Hotel Rwanda
Watched "Hotel Rwanda" the other night. I loved the way they depicted the harsh reality of the plight of many poor countries today. It spelled out the attitude all too clearly: "You’re not even a nigger…you’re an African." A friend of mine was in that very hotel when events depicted in the movie took place. He was thirteen years old and remembers his family fleeing the streets to the safety of that hotel, drinking the swimming pool water, things like that. I listened to his story today, captivated by the real-life experiences he’d had in Rwanda during this time of genocide.
We’re the same age now, yet I never knew many details about his upbringing until the movie triggered a conversation about his past. Strange how you can not realize what the person beside you has gone through sometimes. We all fight personal battles…we all have a story to tell. But the more I learn every day here in Africa, the more I realize how little I know. I find it amazing that in spite of all my friend went through, he can still smile and go on making music like he does today.
Another friend I spoke with tonight related to me how years ago, she and her husband would fish body-parts from the lake; parts which had floated down from Rwanda during the war. Horrible stuff, yet she recounted it so nonchalantly. I find it amazing that anyone who has been through such troublesome times can emerge from them and still get on with their lives. I suppose they realize that life is a gift. I hope I always remember this.