Category: Founders Corner

Saturday, February one.

Ten o’clock on Saturday morning at Kigali International Airport we discovered there are four flights scheduled for the day. Not exactly O’Hare International. Kenya Airways office was closed. Rwanda Airways was closed. We found someone who looked official but he did not know a Francine. About ten persons and three hours later, we discovered that she did exist but did not work that day. No one knew her schedule…she had a phone…she had no phone…she lived nearby…she lived far away…she had the vehicle…there was no vehicle.

Finally, we got a phone number, called, and a young man answered. “Yes,” he spoke English. “Yes,” he knew Francine. “Yes, this was her home. No,” he did not know the address and could not direct us to it.”

We finally found someone who could take us to her home. It was quite far. She was not there nor was the vehicle. She was an Adventist and attending church. Her sister was there, a beautiful twenty-eight-year-old woman dressed in army fatigues, a 45 stuck in her belt and a scar across her cheek to her chin.

She said, “Follow me!” We roared off in our Toyota Land Cruiser trying to keep up. The Hilux truck was in the front yard of their parents’ home. It would not start. The military lady took charge. She kicked Pete out of the driver’s seat. I drove the cruiser and gave her a push. It started with a cloud of blue and black smoke and stopped dead anytime the foot came off the accelerator. This is after spending $4,500 on an overhaul three days previous. We pushed and coaxed it to a warehouse I knew about and left it. We returned home at four P.M. accomplishing a big zero. Jim from Burundi was back. We had a great talk, laughed and cried about our situation and had a good meal. I felt better.

Sunday, February second.

Restful day catching up. Have I told you my Kiyarwanda name? The family name is always placed first: Havemana Ludoviko.

Monday, February third.

In the morning, I sat in the passenger seat of our 3.5 ton lorry determining which of the two potential drivers I would hire. I selected one and disappointed the other one. Later in the day, I was able to obtain an additional 20,000 hoes, 100 metric tons of fresh bean seed and pay $1,219 for transportation. Some places I had to stop in three times and up to five different shops and venues just to find an item. No one stop shopping here in post genocide Rwanda. Worked on reports and communication until after 10:00 P.M.

His name was Albert. He is from India. His company is called Pace, Inc. As I walked into his hardware store to purchase 12,000 hoes he stopped me. He immediately knelt at his desk, crossed himself, and prayed for about 30 seconds. Then he rose and we continued our discussion. I asked, “Why do you stop and pray like this?” He said, “I do this every time I enter and leave my office at the beginning and end of the day. I cannot do my work without praying.”

It is our attitude at the beginning of a difficult undertaking which more than anything else will determine its outcome.

Tuesday, February fourth.

I am up early working at the computer. I hear something. It is Mama Lillie coming out of a spare room we have in the house. She works late preparing supper, cleaning up, and then is afraid to go home in the dark. She says the soldiers will take her to the bushes. I am surprised who I find often who spends the night in our home after the doors are locked and the outside lights are on…when the power stays on.

I simply refuse to spend one second more of my time in Kigali yet it appears to be necessary to make things happen. Another day spent chasing people No luck in getting the Hilux running. I finally picked up a mechanic and we pulled it to the garage. The chief administrator of the garage is a French woman. I could not understand her.

Dave and pete are doing the upcountry work and doing a great job. Jim arrived back from Kibuye late afternoon.

Saturday, February one.

Ten o’clock on Saturday morning at Kigali International Airport we discovered there are four flights scheduled for the day. Not exactly O’Hare International. Kenya Airways office was closed. Rwanda Airways was closed. We found someone who looked official but he did not know a Francine. About ten persons and three hours later, we discovered that she did exist but did not work that day. No one knew her schedule…she had a phone…she had no phone…she lived nearby…she lived far away…she had the vehicle…there was no vehicle.

Finally, we got a phone number, called, and a young man answered. “Yes,” he spoke English. “Yes,” he knew Francine. “Yes, this was her home. No,” he did not know the address and could not direct us to it.”

We finally found someone who could take us to her home. It was quite far. She was not there nor was the vehicle. She was an Adventist and attending church. Her sister was there, a beautiful twenty-eight-year-old woman dressed in army fatigues, a 45 stuck in her belt and a scar across her cheek to her chin.

She said, “Follow me!” We roared off in our Toyota Land Cruiser trying to keep up. The Hilux truck was in the front yard of their parents’ home. It would not start. The military lady took charge. She kicked Pete out of the driver’s seat. I drove the cruiser and gave her a push. It started with a cloud of blue and black smoke and stopped dead anytime the foot came off the accelerator. This is after spending $4,500 on an overhaul three days previous. We pushed and coaxed it to a warehouse I knew about and left it. We returned home at four P.M. accomplishing a big zero. Jim from Burundi was back. We had a great talk, laughed and cried about our situation and had a good meal. I felt better.

Sunday, February second.

Restful day catching up. Have I told you my Kiyarwanda name? The family name is always placed first: Havemana Ludoviko.

Monday, February third.

In the morning, I sat in the passenger seat of our 3.5 ton lorry determining which of the two potential drivers I would hire. I selected one and disappointed the other one. Later in the day, I was able to obtain an additional 20,000 hoes, 100 metric tons of fresh bean seed and pay $1,219 for transportation. Some places I had to stop in three times and up to five different shops and venues just to find an item. No one stop shopping here in post genocide Rwanda. Worked on reports and communication until after 10:00 P.M.

His name was Albert. He is from India. His company is called Pace, Inc. As I walked into his hardware store to purchase 12,000 hoes he stopped me. He immediately knelt at his desk, crossed himself, and prayed for about 30 seconds. Then he rose and we continued our discussion. I asked, “Why do you stop and pray like this?” He said, “I do this every time I enter and leave my office at the beginning and end of the day. I cannot do my work without praying.”

It is our attitude at the beginning of a difficult undertaking which more than anything else will determine its outcome.

Tuesday, February fourth.

I am up early working at the computer. I hear something. It is Mama Lillie coming out of a spare room we have in the house. She works late preparing supper, cleaning up, and then is afraid to go home in the dark. She says the soldiers will take her to the bushes. I am surprised who I find often who spends the night in our home after the doors are locked and the outside lights are on…when the power stays on.

I simply refuse to spend one second more of my time in Kigali yet it appears to be necessary to make things happen. Another day spent chasing people No luck in getting the Hilux running. I finally picked up a mechanic and we pulled it to the garage. The chief administrator of the garage is a French woman. I could not understand her.

Dave and pete are doing the upcountry work and doing a great job. Jim arrived back from Kibuye late afternoon.

Tuesday, January twenty eighth

Spent the whole day in Kigali running after seed corn, vegetable seed, arranging transportation, getting the phone to work and purchasing a new printing cartridge for 60,000 Rwandan Frances, about $60.00. Here is how the 160 # of vegetable seed purchase went. I had to pay in cash, see the manager, review the stock with two attendees, come back in two hours because they were busy, have three employees load the vehicle, have the cash counted twice by two clerks who then had to again see the manager and receive a typed receipt.

Wednesday, January twenty ninth

Three of the volunteers came back from Kibuye last evening. Upon arriving a couple days ago they discovered all the NGOs had left. What we did not know is that on Friday a Belgium man traveling from kibuye to Kigali, the same road we always travel on, had been shot. He was carrying two RPF soldiers, one who immediately jumped out of the car returning fire. He was hit, dragged back into the car, and they speed back to Kibuye, sounding the alarm. By midday, Saturday, most of the expatriates had taken off.

The guys did the minimal amount of necessary work and came home. I have had those moments before, so I did not blame them. I am glad they felt they could do so. Still, I had some goals which were not going to get done this week. Who says being a missionary is not exciting, thrilling, living on the edge, trusting God kind of living?
Bill and Pete picked up the Toyota Hilux. We spent $4,500 overhauling it. We had the top mechanic from Toyota Garage do the work in his back yard. We would had had to wait a month for parts if left in the garage. He had them. Yes, I know where they came from.

I had the guys visit all the local NGOs and find out what they were doing on security issues. We are as organized and productive as any. We did pick up an idea or two.

This evening we spent time strategizing about security issues. We decided when and where we were going to stay in touch, how to park vehicles in the “Get-away-position,” what to do if confronted by militia in our home or on the road. We all went to bed with one eye open. The guard woke Peter up to ask about an unlocked front door. If he had done that to me, I probably would have had to change the sheets.

Thursday, January thirty

We drive only in daylight hours, not real early, but “never” at night, stay on the main road. We have not heard of any further incidents.

We went to Gishita Commune and saw the transit camp where the returnees register. Many looked pretty bad. Up to one hundred a day are still arriving on foot from 150 miles away. Lutheran World Federation is helping with hoes, blankets, pots, and some food. We meet them in their village with seeds and staying power with Food for Work.

We have 5,500 hoes and 7.5 metric tons of bean seed. We are now ready to do another distribution this week. Ruche cooked and took care of us. She is 23 and looks forty.

Friday, January thirty first

I hired a person to organize all our inventory in the church building/warehouse. Dave and I met with fifteen leaders from each of the nine communes in Kibuye Prefecture. We described our programs and asked for their advice. We will be meeting with them monthly for their input. A good meeting.

The US embassy called a special security meeting for all Americans. The ambassador from Burundi and Rwanda gave presentations plus the military attaché. Lots of talk, not much accomplished.

Pete and Bill, our volunteers, were returning to Nairobi. The plan was to complete some errands in the city and leave the vehicle at the airport for us to pick up later. We got there at dusk. The airport was shut down and there was no vehicle. We thought they might have left it at the ADEPR Guest House or at Ranji’s store. No luck at either location. We went home and I began to wonder how we lost the truck. I phoned Nairobi several times. No answer. Just before going to bed, Bill called from Nairobi saying he had left the vehicle with Francine Iwumana. She worked for Kenya Airways. That was a relief. Now we only had to find her. Our plans for Saturday were altered to do some detective work.

Tuesday, January twenty eighth

Spent the whole day in Kigali running after seed corn, vegetable seed, arranging transportation, getting the phone to work and purchasing a new printing cartridge for 60,000 Rwandan Frances, about $60.00. Here is how the 160 # of vegetable seed purchase went. I had to pay in cash, see the manager, review the stock with two attendees, come back in two hours because they were busy, have three employees load the vehicle, have the cash counted twice by two clerks who then had to again see the manager and receive a typed receipt.

Wednesday, January twenty ninth

Three of the volunteers came back from Kibuye last evening. Upon arriving a couple days ago they discovered all the NGOs had left. What we did not know is that on Friday a Belgium man traveling from kibuye to Kigali, the same road we always travel on, had been shot. He was carrying two RPF soldiers, one who immediately jumped out of the car returning fire. He was hit, dragged back into the car, and they speed back to Kibuye, sounding the alarm. By midday, Saturday, most of the expatriates had taken off.

The guys did the minimal amount of necessary work and came home. I have had those moments before, so I did not blame them. I am glad they felt they could do so. Still, I had some goals which were not going to get done this week. Who says being a missionary is not exciting, thrilling, living on the edge, trusting God kind of living?
Bill and Pete picked up the Toyota Hilux. We spent $4,500 overhauling it. We had the top mechanic from Toyota Garage do the work in his back yard. We would had had to wait a month for parts if left in the garage. He had them. Yes, I know where they came from.

I had the guys visit all the local NGOs and find out what they were doing on security issues. We are as organized and productive as any. We did pick up an idea or two.

This evening we spent time strategizing about security issues. We decided when and where we were going to stay in touch, how to park vehicles in the “Get-away-position,” what to do if confronted by militia in our home or on the road. We all went to bed with one eye open. The guard woke Peter up to ask about an unlocked front door. If he had done that to me, I probably would have had to change the sheets.

Thursday, January thirty

We drive only in daylight hours, not real early, but “never” at night, stay on the main road. We have not heard of any further incidents.

We went to Gishita Commune and saw the transit camp where the returnees register. Many looked pretty bad. Up to one hundred a day are still arriving on foot from 150 miles away. Lutheran World Federation is helping with hoes, blankets, pots, and some food. We meet them in their village with seeds and staying power with Food for Work.

We have 5,500 hoes and 7.5 metric tons of bean seed. We are now ready to do another distribution this week. Ruche cooked and took care of us. She is 23 and looks forty.

Friday, January thirty first

I hired a person to organize all our inventory in the church building/warehouse. Dave and I met with fifteen leaders from each of the nine communes in Kibuye Prefecture. We described our programs and asked for their advice. We will be meeting with them monthly for their input. A good meeting.

The US embassy called a special security meeting for all Americans. The ambassador from Burundi and Rwanda gave presentations plus the military attaché. Lots of talk, not much accomplished.

Pete and Bill, our volunteers, were returning to Nairobi. The plan was to complete some errands in the city and leave the vehicle at the airport for us to pick up later. We got there at dusk. The airport was shut down and there was no vehicle. We thought they might have left it at the ADEPR Guest House or at Ranji’s store. No luck at either location. We went home and I began to wonder how we lost the truck. I phoned Nairobi several times. No answer. Just before going to bed, Bill called from Nairobi saying he had left the vehicle with Francine Iwumana. She worked for Kenya Airways. That was a relief. Now we only had to find her. Our plans for Saturday were altered to do some detective work.

Saturday, January twenty fifth.

This was a day I wanted to stick around home and get a bunch of things done. Not to be. I had to run to Kigali again trying to nail down trucking for 49.6 ton of maize see. The phone is out and not to be repaired until Monday, if then. I am not being pessimistic, just realistic.

Talked to my sweetheart to from the UN offices in Kigali. Your voice is sweet to hear.

Several agencies have pulled out of Ruhengeri and Gisenyi. Rumors are rampant. Last Sunday three Doctors Without Borders staff were killed. The NGO community in that area seem to be targeted. We do not have permanent presence but are active in that area. It made the Canadian and European news big time.

Two volunteers and two staff plus myself are here alone tonight. Tomorrow there should only be Pete and myself.

 

 

Sunday, January twenty sixth.

We went to church but did not understand a word.

Once a week I reconcile my receipts and cash. I was only $40.00 off. After changing $10,000 into Rwandan Francs, spending $8,000 and carry around another $50,000 I don’t think that is too bad. Few agencies are using the bank system yet though many of them are open for business. We did find a company in town that will take USA checks, both personal and business. They want US dollars.

I was invited for lunch with a person who works for Africa Evangelistic Enterprise. I will hire him. He speaks excellent English and will do some translation for us. I asked him what he thought the churches should be saying to the government, country, and its own citizen about the thousands of persons in prison. He said, “The churches can say nothing. They have been compromised. Many of their members were involved in the slaughter. To speak for forgiveness, reconciliation, and tolerance would be seen as further evidence of complicity in the genocide. To speak for justice, means death for hundreds, if not thousands. Most of those in prison came home believing they were innocent. But, their brothers, sisters, parents, cousins, probably were involved and by association, they have been placed in jail. We can say nothing, do nothing but pray.” It is a terrible position for the church to lose its entire prophetic voice.

Monday, January twenty seventh.

Pete and I with a couple of employees made a quick run into Kigali arranging for the pickup and delivery of 50 metric tons of maize. The storekeeper was not around and therefore could not deliver. We left one of our guys and took off for Ramba and Kibilire, two communes in the prefecture of Gisyenyi. This is where many of the former Hutu leaders of the previous government and genocide came from. Obviously, it is also an area where many of the returnees are located. We had a great day. The Kibilira people were very excited and positive. The Ramba commune is on top of the world…literally. The view and road is unbelievable. Extraordinary, Breath taking curves and cliffs on this laterite gravel road. However, the Bourgmeistre at Ramba did not seem to be very cooperative. Perhaps we just surprised him.

Upon our return a letter was waiting from our contact at the United States Agency for International Development/Disaster Assistance Response Team/Office of Foreign Disaster Assistance. They had been trying to contact us since the previous Friday with no success. The phone had been out. Finally, they had called the World Food Program who had contacted our office in Nairobi, seeking to inform us that the two prefectures we just had visited were considered unsafe. They could not tell us what to do but wanted us to know they were not pressuring us to perform. They left a flier indicating what danger existed. I thought there were exaggerating. We will see what the week brings. Other agencies have moved out. We are staying while taking precautions. Bold or foolhardy, we will see. The poor and most vulnerable, are in these areas of unrest.

Saturday, January twenty fifth.

This was a day I wanted to stick around home and get a bunch of things done. Not to be. I had to run to Kigali again trying to nail down trucking for 49.6 ton of maize see. The phone is out and not to be repaired until Monday, if then. I am not being pessimistic, just realistic.

Talked to my sweetheart to from the UN offices in Kigali. Your voice is sweet to hear.

Several agencies have pulled out of Ruhengeri and Gisenyi. Rumors are rampant. Last Sunday three Doctors Without Borders staff were killed. The NGO community in that area seem to be targeted. We do not have permanent presence but are active in that area. It made the Canadian and European news big time.

Two volunteers and two staff plus myself are here alone tonight. Tomorrow there should only be Pete and myself.

 

 

Sunday, January twenty sixth.

We went to church but did not understand a word.

Once a week I reconcile my receipts and cash. I was only $40.00 off. After changing $10,000 into Rwandan Francs, spending $8,000 and carry around another $50,000 I don’t think that is too bad. Few agencies are using the bank system yet though many of them are open for business. We did find a company in town that will take USA checks, both personal and business. They want US dollars.

I was invited for lunch with a person who works for Africa Evangelistic Enterprise. I will hire him. He speaks excellent English and will do some translation for us. I asked him what he thought the churches should be saying to the government, country, and its own citizen about the thousands of persons in prison. He said, “The churches can say nothing. They have been compromised. Many of their members were involved in the slaughter. To speak for forgiveness, reconciliation, and tolerance would be seen as further evidence of complicity in the genocide. To speak for justice, means death for hundreds, if not thousands. Most of those in prison came home believing they were innocent. But, their brothers, sisters, parents, cousins, probably were involved and by association, they have been placed in jail. We can say nothing, do nothing but pray.” It is a terrible position for the church to lose its entire prophetic voice.

Monday, January twenty seventh.

Pete and I with a couple of employees made a quick run into Kigali arranging for the pickup and delivery of 50 metric tons of maize. The storekeeper was not around and therefore could not deliver. We left one of our guys and took off for Ramba and Kibilire, two communes in the prefecture of Gisyenyi. This is where many of the former Hutu leaders of the previous government and genocide came from. Obviously, it is also an area where many of the returnees are located. We had a great day. The Kibilira people were very excited and positive. The Ramba commune is on top of the world…literally. The view and road is unbelievable. Extraordinary, Breath taking curves and cliffs on this laterite gravel road. However, the Bourgmeistre at Ramba did not seem to be very cooperative. Perhaps we just surprised him.

Upon our return a letter was waiting from our contact at the United States Agency for International Development/Disaster Assistance Response Team/Office of Foreign Disaster Assistance. They had been trying to contact us since the previous Friday with no success. The phone had been out. Finally, they had called the World Food Program who had contacted our office in Nairobi, seeking to inform us that the two prefectures we just had visited were considered unsafe. They could not tell us what to do but wanted us to know they were not pressuring us to perform. They left a flier indicating what danger existed. I thought there were exaggerating. We will see what the week brings. Other agencies have moved out. We are staying while taking precautions. Bold or foolhardy, we will see. The poor and most vulnerable, are in these areas of unrest.

Friday, January twenty fourth.

Every day is a challenge. We are working on getting seed. I spent well over $300,000 today buying bean, maize, vegetable, soya bean, and sorghum seed. We are importing 200 ton from Uganda, buying a lot locally, and as much as we can from the area we worked in two years ago. I wrote a three-page report on the results of our past work in the area. It makes for a great story.

Last evening, while checking out one of our agriculture projects, one of the guys told us about a church that has been left as a memorial to the genocide slaughter in the village of Ntarama. We drove there in the afternoon. The militia had used grenades to kill all the occupants of the local church. It had been left exactly as if it had happened yesterday. Most of the skulls had been picked up and placed on a table in an adjoining shelter. There were well over 700. Many of the skulls had been cracked. Next to the door was a club especially prepared for this kind of bruising slaughter. It was horrifying real. Bone and clothes were still visible. Obviously, the flesh was gone but the smell wasn’t. Seeing this made me understand why every local government has converted building made into cells, holding hundreds, standing room only of ,young men and some women awaiting trial and soon judgment.

On the same road was a mass grave with hundreds of wooden crosses. There is no money to make something more permanent. On the crosses were written in crayon the name, birth and death dates. All death dates were April 11, 1994. Behind these crosses were two mass graves. Who knows how many bodies are buried there. I do not believe I will forget this day.

Bad news: I took off early to Kigali, the capital city. The copier/printer had gone out from a lightning storm Friday evening. I also had to check on getting our 50 tons of maize seed up country to distribution points. We tried to purchase 132 pounds of carrot, cabbage, tomato, and onion seed. Sounds like a lot. Not much when it goes to 25,000 families. We struck out on all the above items for lots of reasons. Back to tomorrow.

Good news: Since our phone service was out I hooked into Food for the Hungry phone line. There was a message from my wife and daughter and her family. Pumped me right up. The home team does as much to keep me going as my local team.

We spent the next six hours meeting with leaders of two communes planning to meet the needs of 11,500 new returnees. Each commune will make specific plans for distribution of items so their farms and gardens get planted and they become food sufficient as quickly as possible. Then we learned of dozens of widows who are desperate and have no land, homes, or income. We are working on that one. We will probably do some kind of animal loan program with a food for work project constructing simple homes.

Talk about slow mail. I was cleaning out the glove box of the same vehicle we used two years earlier. In it I found a letter addressed to me from Keith Syler, the man who took over our initial food security program. It was dated June 25, 1995.

Lou, Maraho (Hello in Kiyarwandan)
I hope this finds you well. I enjoyed reading the piece Joy Witte did about your Rwanda experience. You’ll be back here, I am sure of it.
Things are going well and we’re all working hard. Our truck had an accident (A reckless Somali rammed into Faben) in May that left us crippled for days. Other than that, and the normal frustration of working with a large, slow moving organization like World Food Program, things are OK.
Peter of the Red Cross stopped me a few days ago along the road and gave me the enclosed photo to send to you. I’m also sending along a report of what we’ve been up to. Thanks, as always, for the legacy you left us. God Bless! Keith.

The report he enclosed was exciting and so satisfying to see the good things that have come out of that work. Wow! I feel great.

We got home tonight and found the US-AID representative had stopped to see us. He left us a special message from the Consular section of the embassy warning all US citizen not to travel in certain sections of the country. We had just spent six hours in those sections. Local people tell us everything is fine. I want to be realistic and cautious yet bold enough to work in areas which are particularly needy. Most insecure areas are needy. The reason for this warning is that three Spanish aid workers were killed and an American wounded ten days ago. The report went on to say, “the organization which put prices on our heads last year, expanded its threat to include aid workers who are used as shields by the RPA” Oh! I wonder, will healing ever come to this beautiful land? Will I be safe? Should I not work in all those areas? What about my staff? I am not worried but I am concerned. And I thought real estate had its emotional ups and downs. With that thought…Good night.

Friday, January twenty fourth.

Every day is a challenge. We are working on getting seed. I spent well over $300,000 today buying bean, maize, vegetable, soya bean, and sorghum seed. We are importing 200 ton from Uganda, buying a lot locally, and as much as we can from the area we worked in two years ago. I wrote a three-page report on the results of our past work in the area. It makes for a great story.

Last evening, while checking out one of our agriculture projects, one of the guys told us about a church that has been left as a memorial to the genocide slaughter in the village of Ntarama. We drove there in the afternoon. The militia had used grenades to kill all the occupants of the local church. It had been left exactly as if it had happened yesterday. Most of the skulls had been picked up and placed on a table in an adjoining shelter. There were well over 700. Many of the skulls had been cracked. Next to the door was a club especially prepared for this kind of bruising slaughter. It was horrifying real. Bone and clothes were still visible. Obviously, the flesh was gone but the smell wasn’t. Seeing this made me understand why every local government has converted building made into cells, holding hundreds, standing room only of ,young men and some women awaiting trial and soon judgment.

On the same road was a mass grave with hundreds of wooden crosses. There is no money to make something more permanent. On the crosses were written in crayon the name, birth and death dates. All death dates were April 11, 1994. Behind these crosses were two mass graves. Who knows how many bodies are buried there. I do not believe I will forget this day.

Bad news: I took off early to Kigali, the capital city. The copier/printer had gone out from a lightning storm Friday evening. I also had to check on getting our 50 tons of maize seed up country to distribution points. We tried to purchase 132 pounds of carrot, cabbage, tomato, and onion seed. Sounds like a lot. Not much when it goes to 25,000 families. We struck out on all the above items for lots of reasons. Back to tomorrow.

Good news: Since our phone service was out I hooked into Food for the Hungry phone line. There was a message from my wife and daughter and her family. Pumped me right up. The home team does as much to keep me going as my local team.

We spent the next six hours meeting with leaders of two communes planning to meet the needs of 11,500 new returnees. Each commune will make specific plans for distribution of items so their farms and gardens get planted and they become food sufficient as quickly as possible. Then we learned of dozens of widows who are desperate and have no land, homes, or income. We are working on that one. We will probably do some kind of animal loan program with a food for work project constructing simple homes.

Talk about slow mail. I was cleaning out the glove box of the same vehicle we used two years earlier. In it I found a letter addressed to me from Keith Syler, the man who took over our initial food security program. It was dated June 25, 1995.

Lou, Maraho (Hello in Kiyarwandan)
I hope this finds you well. I enjoyed reading the piece Joy Witte did about your Rwanda experience. You’ll be back here, I am sure of it.
Things are going well and we’re all working hard. Our truck had an accident (A reckless Somali rammed into Faben) in May that left us crippled for days. Other than that, and the normal frustration of working with a large, slow moving organization like World Food Program, things are OK.
Peter of the Red Cross stopped me a few days ago along the road and gave me the enclosed photo to send to you. I’m also sending along a report of what we’ve been up to. Thanks, as always, for the legacy you left us. God Bless! Keith.

The report he enclosed was exciting and so satisfying to see the good things that have come out of that work. Wow! I feel great.

We got home tonight and found the US-AID representative had stopped to see us. He left us a special message from the Consular section of the embassy warning all US citizen not to travel in certain sections of the country. We had just spent six hours in those sections. Local people tell us everything is fine. I want to be realistic and cautious yet bold enough to work in areas which are particularly needy. Most insecure areas are needy. The reason for this warning is that three Spanish aid workers were killed and an American wounded ten days ago. The report went on to say, “the organization which put prices on our heads last year, expanded its threat to include aid workers who are used as shields by the RPA” Oh! I wonder, will healing ever come to this beautiful land? Will I be safe? Should I not work in all those areas? What about my staff? I am not worried but I am concerned. And I thought real estate had its emotional ups and downs. With that thought…Good night.

Wednesday, January twentieth second.

We spent the whole day visiting communes and Bourgermeistres (counties and county supervisors or mayors). In Mabanza they want us to organize a food for work project on a 12 km stretch of road. Keith arrived on a new motorcycle for our team. He also brought $50,000 cash in $100 bills.

We had lunch in the village: a loaf of bread, several roasted bananas, shishkabob, and roasted corn with some soft drinks.

I was in Rustiro with Dave (Dauwidi in Kiyarwandize). This commune overlooks Lake Kivu and is at 2,300 meters, a fantastic view and location. The Bougermeistre was a real jerk. Between his office and home are two buildings full of prisoners with hardly enough room to stand let alone sleep. As I walked I hear their voices, return their stares, and feel their pain and hatred. If I had to be responsible and that close to this tension I would probably also be a jerk. He would not look or talk directly to me. Rubero thought he was in some kind of shock. We got home about six P.M. and had another fantastic meal.

Thursday, January twenty third.

More meetings in various communes. We had six people around the supper table tonight. Just to give you an idea, here they are:

Jim Zylstra – American, Divorced, Burundi Director for Dorcus Aid…Dutch based NGO.
Jan – Unmarried, Regional Director for Dorcus Aid.
Dave Van Bergal – Single, Canadian volunteer, age 23, worked in a halfway house.
Pete – Single, 27, Wants to be a farmer, keeps engaged internationally. Worked in Indonesia and Central America.
Bill Buwalda – Canadian, married, lives in Kenya, volunteer, 34, drove truck over for us.
Pete – Canadian, short term volunteer, brother-in-law to Bill.
Myself – American, 51, retired missionary, real estate broker/businessman who feels he does not fit well in this group of young, sharp, “crazy” but wired.

Motivated and fun group.

Wednesday, January twentieth second.

We spent the whole day visiting communes and Bourgermeistres (counties and county supervisors or mayors). In Mabanza they want us to organize a food for work project on a 12 km stretch of road. Keith arrived on a new motorcycle for our team. He also brought $50,000 cash in $100 bills.

We had lunch in the village: a loaf of bread, several roasted bananas, shishkabob, and roasted corn with some soft drinks.

I was in Rustiro with Dave (Dauwidi in Kiyarwandize). This commune overlooks Lake Kivu and is at 2,300 meters, a fantastic view and location. The Bougermeistre was a real jerk. Between his office and home are two buildings full of prisoners with hardly enough room to stand let alone sleep. As I walked I hear their voices, return their stares, and feel their pain and hatred. If I had to be responsible and that close to this tension I would probably also be a jerk. He would not look or talk directly to me. Rubero thought he was in some kind of shock. We got home about six P.M. and had another fantastic meal.

Thursday, January twenty third.

More meetings in various communes. We had six people around the supper table tonight. Just to give you an idea, here they are:

Jim Zylstra – American, Divorced, Burundi Director for Dorcus Aid…Dutch based NGO.
Jan – Unmarried, Regional Director for Dorcus Aid.
Dave Van Bergal – Single, Canadian volunteer, age 23, worked in a halfway house.
Pete – Single, 27, Wants to be a farmer, keeps engaged internationally. Worked in Indonesia and Central America.
Bill Buwalda – Canadian, married, lives in Kenya, volunteer, 34, drove truck over for us.
Pete – Canadian, short term volunteer, brother-in-law to Bill.
Myself – American, 51, retired missionary, real estate broker/businessman who feels he does not fit well in this group of young, sharp, “crazy” but wired.

Motivated and fun group.