Ripped off in Gisenyi

We spent the weekend in Gisenyi, which is the western-most part of the country near the border of the Democratic Republic of the Congo. We went there to visit 4 NAR Youth Clubs to get a feel for what they do, what they need, and to gauge their interest in our Human Rights Curriculum, and it was definitely the inspiration we needed to continue our work. Children here (as in most developing countries I'm sure) are so much more excited to learn than children in the US, and were really eager to get a book to learn about human rights that they could share with their community. The coolest thing that they do is a province-wide soccer tournament and I'm soo excited to go see some of the games in August. They incorporate the prevention of genocide ideology in these soccer games, to make them educational and more cooperative; anything that combines soccer and learning is good in my book.

We thought being Muzungus made us a spectacle in our neighborhood, but it was nothing compared to these rural areas. At the first school, we encountered a little child (not sure if it was a girl or a boy.. we think it was a girl... nevertheless, one of the cutest children ever) who followed us to all our meetings and said she wanted us to take her home with us because she liked how we looked. We then visited with 2 other clubs at one school that is situated adjacent to a UN Refugee camp (from the Democratic Republic of Congo) and we had quite the experience there... I'll let Mike elaborate on that one. When we left we had a crowd of 100 children (no exaggeration) who followed us out and laughed as we tried to speak Kinyarwanda with them. Apparently they don't hear foreign accents too often.

Which brings me to the next difficulty. When we were visiting with these children we wanted to have discussions with them about what they thought of human rights, etc etc. They were at the age where they know both French and a little bit of English, so I would ask them questions in both languages, only to be met with blank stares. The facilitator would then repeat, verbatim, what I had said, and would receive many eager responses. Apparently they had trouble understanding my accent, which made me feel pretty useless. I'm finally able to speak French fairly well, but no one can understand it in my American accent!

When we left the clubs, we took a bus to the center of Gisenyi to find our hotel. Upon getting off, we were engulfed in a group of motorcycle-taxi drivers (common transport around the country) asking us where we were going. Despite our map in the tourist guide, we had nooo clue how to get there and enlisted the help of 2 of the moto drivers after negotiating the price. Our hotel was a Presbyterian-run hostel, so they first drove us to the Presbyterian church, then to the hostel. We got off, checked in, and asked the reception desk for a good restaurant, and he said there was one just off the main road behind the hostel, about 200 meters away. After walking less than 100 meters, to our right, we saw the bus station where we had gotten our motos... Apparently it was RIGHT THERE, and they ripped us off by driving us in a complete circle. We were quite humbled by our first stupid-tourist situation. Now we know better. It had to happen once so that we don't get too comfortable, I guess!