The House Next Door.

We have lived in our house for about seven months now and have lived next to a huge abandoned house. The house, according to locals, was abandoned by a Belgium business man right when the genocide began. Currently the house is still unfinished, is falling apart, and has bullet holes all over its exterior. It is some times hard to look at it because it is a sure sign of what life was like during the genocide and most international workers response to the beginning of the war. So many people just picked up and left. In the movie, Shaking Hands with the Devil, you see exactly that. You see many, many white people and upper class Rwandans pushing, shoving, and hurrying to get on the last few planes out of Rwanda. It is so sad to see because people who do not necessarily fit that description also try to get on the planes, but you see militia push them away and deny their right of passage away from the all the fighting and killing. So, this house just reminds me of the genocide. It also reminds me European wealth because it is this large, expensive house amongst more modest houses. When I would tell people about the house they would often ask if anyone lived in it even though it is unfinished. Based on what I know, I would always tell them that people do live there. I often see people going in and out of the unlocked, vacant gate. Also, at times we even see people upstairs during the day. I was told that the homeless and those who need a space to work often reside there during the day. To me this house was a sign of the past like I said, but also just emptiness, death, and abandonment. That was until the other day when I was laying in my bed. As I lay there in silence people began to sing. From where, I had no clue, but it sounded like it was coming from the abandoned house. Then I began to hear drums and the sounds of people dancing. I just layed there thing this may just be a one day event and then quickly drifted off to sleep. Then the following day I came home from town. As I walked up my steps I began to hear the same familiar singing from the day before. It was joy to my ears. It was beautiful and a reminder of life in Rwanda. So, instead of walking into my house and occupying myself with what I should clean up in my house or eat from the pantry, I walked out my gate and in the direction of the abandoned house. The gate was wide open and there were people sitting on top of the fence around the house. They waved at me and welcomed me in. As I walked in people began to smile and sign louder. As I took steps onto the driveway and closer to what was going on children began running over to me and of course yelling Muzungu, Muzungu! As I looked up I saw about thirty Rwandan women of all sizes and ages just signing, dancing, and practicing their traditional Rwandan dance. It almost brought tears to my eyes. Not only was I welcomed into a place that has for so long been a sign of death and abandonment, but I saw one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen in my time in Rwanda. I saw women just being women. Just praising the Lord. Just having fun and loving on each other. It made me proud to be a woman. It also made me proud to be living in Rwanda. It brought hope to me as I looked at how a group of women could take this place and transform it into a place of meeting. It was just so beautiful...