One last breakfast together on the patio at the Milles Collines.

Packed and ready to go.

Last errands about town, exchanging of currencies.

Some of our new friends & colleagues come to the hotel for a last goodbye.

Kiki, the Artistic Director of Festival Arts Azimuts, comes with us to the airport to see us off. 

There is time taken for goodbye here, to honour connections forged.

The film crew is happy with the material shot over these last 15 days, the company is full with experience and stories.  We have been most fortunate to be with a company who were open, allowing the film crew to witness & capture their experiences here.  A fascinating group, full of heart. 

I am excited about our film.

I am excited to share this film with our supporters.

Another 30 hours in transit to make our way home.  We are richer people for this experience.

Wednesday morning at 9 am our bus arrives for the visit to the Millenium Village Project at Nyamata in Bugesera District in the Eastern Province.  Our guide, Florence Kabanyana, is knowledgeable and vivacious. 

This was one of the poorest areas in Rwanda. The International airport will be rebuilt here in the next few years, and as we enter the area we see much development - new sidewalks being built in villages along the highway, new businesses opening.

We cross the wide river which in 1994 was clogged with bodies, drifting all the way to Lake Victoria. Florence remembers in Tanzania being asked by other children why they were being made to eat her people - fish were being caught with parts of bodies in them.  "You are poisoning us with your people!", went the taunts.  People stopped eating fish from the lake during that time.

We are encouraged to ask any (& as many) questions as we wish while we are on the tour, of Florence or of our local guides.  We pick up our local guide, Sylverian, at the offices and after a brief introduction to the MVP initiatives and local goals/progress, we walk down the road to the Memorial.

Ntarama Church.  Our guide, Charles Mugabe, is one of 7 survivors from the 11,000 slaughtered here during the Genocide.  He was one of the 6,500 in the church.  He greets Florence and Sylverian warmly; he and Sylverian walk with arms around one another towards the church.

A gentle giant, Charles quietly recounts his memories of that time.  The people here were held and tortured for days.  Children under five were dashed against the wall in one area, and the walls are still stained.  The tin roof, a diarama to the sky with pinpricks of light from the bullet & shrapnel holes, is stained with brains & blood.  The clothing and personal effects of the dead cover the simple wooden benches which line the church.   The stories of torture and brutality are shocking, and Charles remains calm when a member of the group breaks down.

I ask him how it makes him feel when visitors break down and grieve here in front of him.  He tells us, in translation from Florence, that he is honoured.  He may cry later, sometimes, but not here.  Not now. 

Charles leads us to a crumbling brick part of the wall and shows us the hole where he hid his head, covered in blood, pretending to be already dead.

He leads us to the burial areas, and shows us the caskets containing his family.  Unlike many, he knows where the bodies of his family are.

Gord sits alone near the memorial.  Charles tells him he looks like Jesus.  He is surprised.

_______________

We visit a local farmer who invites us into his home.  We ask him questions about his life, his farm.  It is my first time in one of these homes we have seen dotted along the road - it is cool, with simple pictures on the walls and comfortable furniture. 

He shows us how to harvest Cassava, growing amongst his banana trees.  Sylverian, who wants to one day have his own farm, peels a piece of Cassava and cuts it for us into pieces.  We munch Cassava in the field.  We learn of the new varieties introduced to the area to increase productivity - mangoes which mature in 6 months rather than 3 years. 

When we leave he tells us that before the Genocide, one was not permitted to talk to Umuzungus.  Now his neighbors are envious that he always has guests, visitors formerly forbidden.

________________

We visit a local school.  The teacher-student ratio is approximately 77 students per teacher.  We visit the nursery, where children learn to graft orange trees onto local lemon trees, which are hardier.  "The strength of the lemon supports the fruit of the orange" - Rick Banville in a rather poetic aside.

They take this knowledge home to their families.  They learn to garden in the school plot, which also ensures that they have fresh vegetables every day for lunch.  They learn irrigation methods.  The learn hygene while helping to prepare meals and while cleaning their lunch dishes and classrooms.  

We visit a classroom where the boys have been making bee hives from banana leaves & wood.
The boys are whispering among themselves about Gord.

"They say you look like Jesus", says Florence. 
Gord looks flummoxed and a bit uncomfortable, but he is in the classroom longest, talking to the children.

___________________

We stop by an artisans village and learn to weave baskets, sitting on the ground with the ladies, children all around us.  Ross is surprisingly talented at this - the ladies make much of him.

___________________


We visit the Reconciliation Village.  Everyone is gathered, including the people we have met that day.  Children are dancing in the dirt square when we arrive.  We are directed to a row of comfortable chairs beneath an awning. 

In this village, perpetrators & survivors live side by side, having built together the bricks for their homes.

There is an introduction and history by a local leader, Anastase Barahira. 

Then, Tasiyani Nkundiye gets up to speak - he is a perpetrator who confessed and served 8 years in jail, then returned home to this village.  He speaks of learning to live with those he wronged, in trust and cooperation. 

A survivor speaks next, Cecile Mukagasana.  She speaks of the struggle for forgiveness within herself.  Both speak in quiet, factual tones.  They answer questions simply.  I am amazed at their bravery and commitment to reconciliation. After speaking, they sit closely side-by-side on a bench.

There is more dancing with the children, then we gird ourselves and offer, through Florence, to sing songs from Goodness.  We are surrounded by the villagers, a tight circle of curiosity 6 rows deep.  They respond with surprise and delight,  the women from the Artisans Village reaching out to caress or squeeze an arm with big smiles. 

_____________________

We return to Kigali after exchanging of emails with Florence. It has been a full day already, but there is another Festival function this evening, organized by Jen Capraru of Theatre Isoko.  A gathering of international theatre & film practitioners.  Again, we are surrounded by articulate artists with similar goals & struggles from all round the world.   Avid discussion which ends too soon. 

Home to bed.  To pack.

We leave tomorrow.


Post by Tara

After a day of rest, the film crew is back at "Heaven" today for a full day of interviews with the company.

Planning for the MVP/Reconciliation Village falls into place for tomorrow.

This evening, we host a farewell dinner for the company's fixer/translator, Laurette Kabanyana.  She has become part of this strange road family.  We go to the new Moroccan restaurant, Shokola.  Again, the atmosphere is exotic and peaceful, a walled-in haven of lanterns and couches.  The hookah & excellent espresso finish a fine meal. 

This restaurant, like Khazana, is just down the hill from our hotel.  We see Laurette into a cab, & make our way quietly up the hill to bed.

Thanksgiving in Gisenyi.

The three hour drive is absolutely beautiful.  Vertical farms, fields at a greater than 45 degree angle to the ground, climbing one after another high up on a mountain.  Every bit of arable land is utilized.  Alongside the road are rock faces which remind us of the Canadian shield, the rockies.

View from the bus on the road to Gisenyi

The potholes begin to appear in the road - we have a good driver, but only discover how VERY good until the trip home in the dark later that evening.

We come across a fuel tanker truck tipped half on its side in the ditch, leaning against the hill by the road.  The axle looks broken.  As we pass I look back to see a group of people on the other side of the road, and a rope.  They are going to pull the truck out.  When we come back that evening, it is gone.

Everywhere you see Rwandans walking, some carrying items on their heads, on their shoulders, some pushing large bundles on their bicycles, and all going uphill.  We are heading to the Volcanic region; with active Volcano's around it, and at 4862 feet, Gisenyi sits at a high altitude in Rwanda on the shores of Lake Kivu. 

We are two hours into our journey when the ground changes from red earth to black earth.  Soon, the ground also begins to sparkle.  There is some mineral in the earth which catches the light and makes it dance.  The homes begin to look more prosperous, more tin roofs, 2 sheep and 2 goats in a yard instead of a single goat.  We see crops of tea growing by the side of the road as we near Lake Kivu.

We come around a corner and begin to descend.  Stretching away below us is Lake Kivu, vast and grey-blue.  On a curve of the lake there is a shining city - we ask our driver about it.  It is Goma, in the DRC.
Again, a land of contrasts - one of the poorest regions, devastated by a conflict with more casualties, it is said, than WWII, sparkles from afar like an Emerald City, a place of magic and promise.

We arrive in Gisenyi and pile out of our bus.  We leave the Hotel Serena's manicured grounds & beaches, walk the dusty streets to find the 'Bikini Tam Tam' - beach-side cabana's.  We sit under a cabana, order a beer and toast to a Happy Thanksgiving.  We swim.  We relax. 

Rick takes a photo of a local chappy in front of the Tam Tam

Mother & Puppies sleeping on the beach at Tam Tam

Solitude and the sound of waves at Gisenyi

Ross, Rebecca & Guillaume decide to walk across the border into Goma in the DRC.  The remainder of the group split off and begin climbing towards the market.  As we arrive at the market, one of the Volcano's above us begins to smoke.  In front of it, the Mosque is silhouetted against its darkness.  We enter a dark, covered market and find rows and rows of beautiful cloth.  Belts, pants, t-shirts - all embossed with the name or the face of Barack Obama. 

After the market we find a small establishment run by "Charles" where we can eat & rest.  Lunch is the simplest buffet we have yet had in Rwanda - rice & beans, made that morning.  There are fried smelts which Jeanie & Gord try.  This simple food is enough.  The covered huts, with doorways of bamboo, shelter us from the sun and open through to other areas.  One of our neighbors asks Gord for advice in meeting Canadian girls and they have a long conversation, in French & English.  Charles grows his own lettuce and tomatoes in potato sacks along the walls, and Rick convinces him to make us a salad.  We have not had any fresh lettuce since we've been here.  Charles is enchanted with Jeanie, and she goes with him to help prepare the salad.  It is served with sliced onion, lime, vinegar and salt.  It is delicious.

Meanwhile, Ross & gang are being chased out of Goma by an angry mob.


Ross & gang call us once they return to Rwanda and make their way to the market.  We have found our driver who is also in the market with the bus - a boon, since I am fading and not relishing a walk down to the Serena Hotel.  We take them to the market and an older man, with a Rwandan string instrument which looks like a cross between a zither and a Korean Haegeum, begins to serenade Ross.  The market sellers gather around, they are smiling, giggling, elbowing one another, enjoying this local man and his bold serenade. Ross is smiling ear to ear.

When Ross gives him one American dollar, the crowd is impressed and a great sound of release goes up into the air around Ross - applause, laughter. I slip back through the crowd.  This was an honest busk, a good & savvy busk on the street, but seeing how much a dollar means to this performer and the community, I am uncomfortable.  Uncomfortable with my own privilege.

Eventually, we say goodbye to Charles and his oasis of an establishment.  Pictures are taken.  There is the sense that friends have been made, that Rick Banville (who connected the most with Charles over his lettuce garden) could return and find this sense of community again with these people.   It is a sense of community we have in the Theatre back home, but I wonder how I could ever find this warmth and interest in exchange at first visit to a restaurant on King Street. We pile into the bus and begin the ride home in the rising dusk.

It is a dark, and extremely bumpy ride home.  One cow is almost hit and a shriek goes up from the side of the road.  Several goats almost meet the same fate.  Drivers in Rwanda will pass on the curve on what we would call a double-line stretch of road.  The giant holes in the road are swerved and missed without losing much speed whenever it is possible to do so.  Most of us sleep, but our sound technician, Tyler, rides shotgun beside the driver.

"How is it up there, Tyler?" someone asks at about the 2 hour point into the journey.

He looks back, pauses for effect, and answers, "Terrifying."

We are back late at 9 pm, but we meet the rest of the cast just getting started at a nearby Indian Restaurant which comes highly recommended, "Khazana".  It is our Thanksgiving dinner together & it is worth the wait.Stunning world-class cuisine in a beautiful atmostphere.


What a wonderful Thanksgiving.



Post by Tara

8 am - All meet outside the Milles Collines and pile into our driver Jean Louis's Landcruiser and a separate cab.  Laurette has found us a church which may allow our group to attend the service and film it.  We have to be there by 9 am to meet the Head Pastor, and introduce ourselves in person.  He will then decide if he will grant us permission.  This cannot be done in advance, we may show up and be denied permission to film. The filmmaking team is tense, anxious to get there - I try to control my anxiety.  We will explain from our hearts, and see what happens.

 We have with us the children's books, magazines & clothing which Jeanie & Dawn Calleja collected from generous companies & people in Canada.  Pastor Charles has contacts with orphanages in the area and will distribute these on our behalf.

We arrive at the Bethel Pentecostal church compound to the sounds of children singing and parisioners streaming into the church.  A man tells us that services here last 5 hours.

We meet the Head Pastor and I am most impressed with his considered questions about use & purpose of the filming.  Eventually, we are granted permission to film once we are introduced to the congregation.  We are taken into the church to the service already in progress; it is a deeply raked space looking down onto a main stage with 6 singers with microphones and a full band leading the dancing, singing, full church.  Flags waving.  Dancing in the aisles.  It is joyful and exuberant worship, full harmonies are heard all around us.

After our introduction, John Westheuser springs into action, and Jack Nicholsen cracks out his camera for still shots.  We have each been joined by a young man from the congregation who introduces himself and begins to translate the introduction (which is generous and warm), songs & sermons from Kinyarwandan into English.  It is quiet & generous evangelism - just the word, the word is enough.  There is gentleness in this exchange, an openness and willingness to share this experience with us which I find moving in itself.  It is nothing like the church in which I was raised. 

We stay for over an hour, and when we leave I feel invigorated.  I was feeling wrung out this morning.   

We head off to "Heaven" for a farewell brunch to which we have been invited by Josh & Alissa Ruxin, the proprieters.  We meet their charming daughter & baby girl.  Ross, Rick & I slip away to talk with Josh, who is one of the founders of the UN Millenium Project & Reconciliation Village here.  He recommends it highly, says it will be a highlight of our trip.  We have been thinking of going to Gisenyi on the shores of Lake Kivu (in the Volcanic Northern Provence) for Thanksgiving tomorrow, right across the border from Goma in the DRC.  Josh speaks to the recent stabilization in Goma after years of conflict which has cost 5 million lives - more than the Second World War. 

This number is shocking, shocking too in that I have not read this in the papers or in my research in Canada before this moment.  The world is supposed to be shrinking, and yet this fact is new to me.  How is that possible?  How can I not have been told?  What am I doing wrong?  Why did I not know this number?  Ross is intrigued by the idea of walking across the border from Gisenyi into Goma, and it looks like Gisenyi is now our favorite for a Thanksgiving road trip.

Again I find that in Rwanda, research unfolds on the ground in conversation.  Opportunities to discover Rwanda, which are not visible from home, come into focus when one takes the time to speak to local people, be they ex-pats or Rwandans.  This takes time, but it is always time well spent.

We say farewell to the Ruxins, who have generously allowed us to film interviews in the courtyard of "Heaven" on Tuesday Oct 13th, even though the restaurant is closed.  They have been remarkable hosts to this play and this company, and their work in Rwanda is astounding.  When you go to Kigali, be sure to visit "Heaven".

After brunch, some of our group go to the Artisans market today, and come home with lunchboxes made from Fanta bottle caps, hand-carved push cars for kids, batik work, bowls & serving spoons carved from ebony.

Guillaume finds the smallest spoon I have ever seen, carved from wood, like a miniature teaspoon with a rounder-than-flatter spoon end. When he smacks you on the arm with it lightly, it sounds a bit like a seal barking.

Four possible shoot days remaining.
One needs to be a day off for the crew.
It should be Thanksgiving for certain, which is tomorrow.

I begin planning and permissions for visiting the UN Millenium Village project & Reconciliation village with our camera crew in tow. Josh Ruxin's assistant Benna swiftly connects us with the tour operators, New Dawn Associates.  I speak with Annie at NDA and we begin the process of planning (transport, schedules, fees) & permissions to film while we are at the project. 

We begin to plan a trip for some of us to Gisenyi tomorrow.  We will go to the shores of Lake Kivu and give thanks.  Rick Banville arranges the transport at short notice, like magic.

We are all ready for a day off.



Post by Tara

Interviews in the courtyard of Heaven.  Trees, flora, stonework.

The show goes well again - we are adjusted to the lights and the slippery floor.  Last night, Gord said in the talkback that he found the backdrop of Kigali extremely powerful during his performance.  I make sure to take more looks tonite whenever I am facing upstage, memorize this play in this moment/venue/country/time.

Tonite, rather than a formal talkback, Ross decides to invite the audience to stay and speak to us one-on-one over beers.  We are surrounded by Rwandans responding to the show.  John and Tyler are on the run, everywhere.  One woman, Janine, formerly a Torontonion moved home to Rwanda with her husband, responds to the war criminal's Alzheimers in the play.  Real or imagined, the mystery at the heart of the play is less important to her than the resonance in this choice.  She tells me that they live with perpetrators who deny their part in the Genocide, who say they forget what happened or their part in it.   She tells us her husband's story of healing, which is a powerful story to exchange.  There are ordinary people in this country who overcome great pain every day, each in their own way.  I promise myself to remember this when I return to Toronto, as I live my life.

As Ross puts it in his blog post of the evening's response, I find I cannot find the words which will do justice to the many responses we had in conversation that evening.

I am ever more glad we are making this film.
Grateful for the hard work of our crew.
Grateful for this play & company.


Post by Tara

Today, word trickles down that Ross has become quite ill, some stomach bacteria attack.  He is resting while our technical crew - Rick, Rebecca & Guillaume - work at "Heaven" to rig lights and build cues.  We know that again we will find ourselves in a new world of space and light, with no rehearsal prior.  It is an adventure for everyone, but most stressful for our technicians.  There is no way of knowing how they are doing over there.  The film crew sneaks in some shooting. We wait and trust in the skill of our creative team. Readying ourselves for the evening & our part in the endeavour. 

We have found a local driver with the help of Laurette - Jean Louis.  He promises to come to the play this evening, after driving our film crew all day.  He ends up bringing the crew to their show call, then staying to see the show while his friends show up separately.  He is flexible with us, and it is mostly appreciated as we run from opportunity to opportunity during these days. 

Song rehearsal at the Milles Collines in Jack's room.
We arrive at "Heaven" at 8:50 pm for our show.  There is a row of SUV's parked outside.
A different crowd than in Butare.
Many ex-pats in the house tonight, among Rwandans.

Ross is lying in the dressing room.  He is very ill.  Struggling to make it to the talkback after the show.
There is great strength in this group of artists.  I have watched a couple members of this company perform through illness in Toronto & the strength they have always amazes me. 

The regular dinner guests are slow to vacate, slower than expected, still our show begins, as expected, before 9:30 pm.  The playing area has shrunk even more due to the size of the audience.  Yesterday, it was adjusted to an oval rather than a square, and this oval is even flatter tonite.  Everyone on the Volcano team is making the best of this at every turn - Rick has found an equipment box for us to step down onto as we enter from the raised platform at the side of the restaurant.  He lights the way for us and lends a hand when we enter/exit.  Guillaume and Rebecca are visible, raised at stage left on the platform from which we enter.
We have not yet seen Rebecca's lights, and can only guide ourselves by the spike marks on the floor and the feel of the lights as they come up.  The chairs are new.  The space is new.  The floor is slippery.  Mental note after mental note - adjust, cope, compensate, keep on track.

The lighting is powerful & exposing.  Carol & Kent sit in the front row - it is good to see them there during the show.   I see Ross once during the show, sitting in a chair beside the booth with Guillaume and Rebecca.  I know he is only there when he is in a solid stomach moment, but it is nice to see him there.  Rebecca is not calling the lights but manually moving sliders and CREATING the lights around us as she watches the show, on sight.  Rick holds out his hand, assisting us up onto the level of our dressing room as we exit offstage after Act 1, and you catch glimpses of him throughout the show, a shadowy bodyguard in a driving cap on the fringes of your eyeline.  Guillaume has a rock-solid show, sound cues bang on.

It is difficult to say how the show changed, yet again, that evening.  But it felt as though it sunk deeper into every person on that stage. 

The applause is warm and the audience comes to their feet.

I hear Ross announce the talkback, and yes, he is a great actor that one.  When we arrive on stage he is together, holding it together perhaps but he is doing it. 

We hear from Rwandans, one of whom says that this play helps him to see that it is possible to find a way towards forgiveness or healing, whereas previously he did not think this was possible.  Now, though he is not sure of the way, he thinks he can find one.  (More comments from the talkback are found on Ross's Blog)

Still I wish that we could hear more from Rwandans, for this project and for the film.
We seek again, reach out again, tomorrow.

The walk home to the Milles Collines from Heaven is uphill but only five minutes.
The film team must be beat - a long day for them.
More interviews with cast tomorrow for them.



Post by Tara

In the morning, the film crew tags along as Ross visits the National Commission for the Fight Against Genocide.  Lilliane Matabishi (another "Lili" in the 'Goodness' family!) whom we met on opening night in Butare, has offered to assist with publicity for the show in Kigali, free of charge.  This visit is part of the reaching out that she is doing on our behalf, engaging communities in Kigali who may be interested in seeing our show. 

Jean de Dieu Mucyo, the head of the National Commission for the Fight Against Genocide, will later attend our show on closing night, and although I meet him, I do not hear his feedback on the show afterwards.  I will be left hoping that it is captured in the footage from that evening, or that it will fall onto the collective table as we digest this experience upon our return to Toronto.

Rehearsal at "Heaven" - in the open air, on a covered deck of wide floorboards, the backdrop is Kigali on the hill behind us.  The Technical team & Ross deserve kudos for finding every way possible to make this arrangement in the space work for us.  We will have the lights of Kigali behind us, a full moon above our heads. 

It is quiet in the restaurant during the day, and the light run allows us to blow off steam.  Funny accents, funny walks, funny line-readings are explored.  Ultimately, we know what we have to do at performance time, and these escapes into absurdity provide relief.  Again, I am glad for the privacy of rehearsals, the zest and humour, & the trust of this group of people.

We return to the Milles Collines to prepare for a reception at the American Ambassador's residence.  At the last minute, a double-check on the permissions for our film crew.  We are good to go.   Cast members race to the market for dress shoes or something to wear - this is a big deal.  My jacket arrives back from laundry just as the cabs are readying to leave - I intercept it in the parking lot, rip it off the hangar, & tout la gang pile into two taxis (it is pouring rain by this time) to head into the Kigali evening.

We meet many Rwandan artists - filmmakers, performers, writers - and the host, the Deputy Chief of Mission, Anne Casper, speaks eloquently about the importance of the arts & of this Festival.

We are also hosted by Carol Tambor & Kent Lawson from NYC, who worked to arrange this reception on our behalf in conjunction with the US Embassy.  The Carol Tambor award was passed to 'Goodness' at the 2006 Edinburgh Fringe, and Carol and Kent have become a part of the 'Goodness' family, and helped fund our tour here.  Carol, with her customary grace & eloquence, gives a moving speech about the importance of having dreams, and making them come true. 

I find I am standing straighter than I've ever stood in my life, with pride and emotion, during these speeches.  I am deeply honoured by the company in which we find ourselves. It is a beautiful reception.

We pour into the evening afterwards, running through the rain to our taxis (which Lili & I have called back to the residence), and we all journey to "Heaven" for a celebratory dinner. 

The food is excellent.  The company is superb.
The lights of Kigali twinkle behind us and the moon hangs orange in the sky.
This will be our backdrop tomorrow night.


Post by Tara

We pack our nets & belongings and drag them out into the courtyard for our bus to Kigali.

Some of our new friends from the Festival come to see us off, Gloria Magambo & Pamela Acaye, Kiki.

There is a sense for some that we are leaving a second home - a place of peace & learning/growth?

The film crew weaves among the piles of belongings, standing clusters of goodbyes, small pockets of thoughtfulness or tears.  We pile into the bus sans film crew, and they film our bumpy exit from the hotel into the street, an awkward three point turn with small children from the neighborhood seeming to get underfoot and miraculously escaping the lumbering bus as it lurches and turns.  Film crew piles in and off we go, off to Kigali for Part 2.

It is a three hour drive to Kigali, through this beautiful country.

We arrive in Kigali at the Milles Collines and check into our rooms.  The film crew is off again, following the Volcano Technical crew & Ross to our next venue, "Heaven".  This restaurant will transform into a theatre for our show after regular dinner service ends.

Tomorrow is our tech day at "Heaven", with actors in the afternoon. 

Dinner is found around the corner at Chez Robert, again a buffet but hot and delicious.  There are many buffet options to be found in Rwanda, for lunch or for dinner, from simple (rice & beans) to elaborate (add 2 kinds of meat, plantains, dessert), with Fanta or beer as a chaser.  Chez Robert has a secret back garden, with hidden booths, a fountain, rockery and paths - an enchanting discovery.  The cast will return here again in the next week.

A good dinner makes a long day go down easier.

Post by Tara

Someone will tell me later, in Kigali, that in Africa the days are not 24 hours long.
They are sometimes 36, sometimes 48, but most often they are 72 hours long.
It feels like it now - we are packing so much into every day.

When not acting in the show, we are planning events, planning filming, or filming.  Gord & I are dividing our energies - Logistics are mine, Directing are his & John's.  We try to meet in the middle when things happen. 

We are so fortunate to have Jeannie Calleja with us as Production Assistant.  She handles release forms & logging/notating footage & interviews wherever the crew goes.  She is tireless and so generous with the time we seem to need from her. Release forms in three different languages.  & she always, always, always has a pen when you need one.

Blogging has been difficult - the internet connection is sporadic or slow, and our energies are focussed on getting a good film in the can when we are not being actors in the play.  Access is what we need, and access means planning and permissions and attendance at anything which is happening.  Permissions can take two days, talking to the right people, taking them for a beer afterwards for their time. 

I have spent some time with the head of security at the National University, a wonderful man named Steve Hsinga, & with him I have seen the inside of a local police station, the courthouse, the security offices for the University.  Walking or taking motorcycle taxis in the red dust of Butare's streets.

Laurette helps us find drivers and vehicles, and she & I slowly tick items necessary for the next few days of filming off our list.  We are already planning for Kigali.  Laurette is Volcano's fixer, and we are hiring her when she is not working for Volcano with great thanks to the Theatre company for sharing this resource.  It is esssential to have a fixer in Rwanda. It is essential to have a cell phone and to program in the numbers of as many taxi drivers in town as possible once you arrive. I'm so grateful to this capable young woman - she quietly goes about doing a good job with little fanfare.  She has become a vital part of this theatre family in only a few (long) days.

There is a meeting with the rector of the University, Silas Lwakabamba.  The documentary crew settles in the corner of the conference room to capture the speeches and subtle politicking.  We are invited here so that he might thank us for our presence at the Festival; this meeting is key for the Festival organizers.  Ross speaks eloquently about the interest in this festival in Canada, in National newspapers & on National radio.  We learn that the University was built by Canadians; Rick Banville notes that the equipment in the theatre was from Calgary, a mystery now made clear.  There is hope that this meeting will help keep the Arts Azimuts Festival on the University's agenda for future years.  The rector is gracious and articulate. 

Running producer errands with Laurette, we are caught in an afternoon rainstorm.  Since it is the milder of the two rainy seasons, everyone waits inside for the storm to abide.  Were it the March rainy season, Laurette tells me, it would be raining like this (torrentially) all day with no respite.  No one would be waiting inside for it to abate.  They would simply dress for it, and carry on.  "Like Canadians in winter", I think.

We see a full rainbow on the horizon when we leave the protection of the shop to continue on our way.

This afternoon, the cast attends church choir practice with the film crew.
It is yet again, another profound experience for our group.
Collective song. 
A carrying or sustenance of the soul through music, as in our play, Goodness.


This evening, we attend a performance at the Festival, Colleen Wagner's "The Monument".  The Artistic Director of a new Canadian-Rwandan company, Isoko, Jen Capraru has had this play translated into Kinyarwanda and has toured the production through this country.  It is a simple staging, in the round, with wonderful actors, and I find it compelling even though I do not understand the language. 

The audience is packed with Rwandans who lean forward in their seats, laugh, rub their eyes, and seem totally engaged. We are standing - there are many Rwandans standing with us just to see this play.  An inspiring evening at the theatre, again with a language barrier. 

It is interesting, for a change, to be the minority with the language barrier.  Striving to understand a piece of theatre without language, something which others around us understand totally.  It seems fair, a balancing. 

I see that there are audiences here hungry for theatre.  I feel a deep wish/hope that this Festival can continue here next year.


Post by Tara

Monday evening, Ross is interviewed by Carol Off for "As It Happens" on CBC Radio.

The show was broadcast the next day, Tuesday, Oct 6.

Go to http://www.cbc.ca/mrl3/8752/asithappens/20091006-aih-3.wmv.

Ross's interview begins 5 minutes into the clip.

It is a great interview.

After a day off, which I manage to fill with producing/planning the next few days' events for our crew/film, we head to Murambi (near the village of Gikongoro). Laurette Kabanyana has helped me to find a bus for all 15 of us - a van taxi like the ones we see ferrying people about Butare - for a reasonable rate. 

(She and I are also on the lookout for a driver with a landcruiser for our next day's shooting, but no worries - Laurette seems to have a remarkable network.  She has said she wants to work in PR one day, and she seems like she has the networking ability to support that goal.)

Murambi is a 40 minute climb out of Butare, still in the Southern Province.  The temperature drops as we climb into the hills. 

Murambi was a technical school under construction at the time of the Genocide. Tutsi's were encouraged by their local leaders to come here for their safety & protection.  In truth, they were being assembled for mass scale slaughter. As they entered the compound, their weapons were collected.  There were 40-50,000 people here.  Their food and water supplies were cut off to further weaken them. 

The men stayed outside so that the women and children could have protection from the April rains.  When they were attacked, the men fought their attackers off with stones for a little while, brought to them by brigades of women.  When the army arrived with greater firepower than the Interahamwe, at 3:00 am on April 21st, they were overpowered.  The bodies (some of the adults & children still alive) were pushed into mass graves by caterpillars.

50,000 people.  In this peaceful high place.

After the Genocide, a survivor (Emmanuel Murangira) who escaped, walking to Burundi in 7 days with a bullet in his skull, returned to Murambi as part of an initiative to bury the victims with honour.  The bodies found still intact in the mass graves were limed & preserved, and lie in the empty rooms on wooden pallets.

Emmanuel lost 43 family members at Murambi, including his wife and 5 children.


Our guide, Francois, is articulate and gentle.  He lost his family here.  We make our way slowly through this place, hearing the laughter of children playing in the field outside as we enter each room.

There is great time taken here, by each member of this company, to allow this to enter & affect them in some personal way. There is great respect shown to one another, as each person is given the space to do this.
There is great time taken to look into the surrounding mountain hills and feel the breeze, and try to understand.

It is difficult to see the experience written on each person's face, these people I have come to love so deeply.

Francois asks us to talk about this place with those we are closest to when we return home.  I am grateful that Francois allows our questions, speaks gently about surviving his sadnesses, about his reasons for being here in service.

There is a fine line between good and evil, and yet a deep divide.

The film crew asks for words and I cannot find them.

All I can do is try not to cry or flee but look at every single individual in those rooms and bear them witness.

We sit on the hills in private contemplation. I am thankful that our guide allows us this time. This is the most beautiful place I have ever seen.  This is the greatest horror I have ever seen.

Post by Tara

We return to the theatre for our last show in Butare.  We start late, but have a good audience, more people than the afternoon and quietly attentive.  The audience is mostly male - where are the women? 

The talkback gives me both hope & doubt - more questions from the audience, one from a local police commissioner who seems too young for his position.  He wants to see more work about the larger forces behind a genocide.  It seems to me that this play deals with the individual's responsibility to common humanity. 

Ross handles this question well, explaining that plays can only be so long, so creators are limited as to what they can focus on in any given story, and seems to deeply take in the feedback from this man and again my respect for Ross grows. 

I cannot even begin to imagine how I would answer in Ross's position - I am seized with a moment of despair, wondering if there is some deep misunderstanding of the play happening for our audience, wondering if they are all wondering why we do not deal with the machinery behind Genocide - and if so, does that mean that there is no interest in individual responsibility?  How can that be?  Rwanda's reconciliation programs & Gacaca courts focus on the individual responsibility for one's actions. 

I feel confused in this moment.

The actors are asked by a young man in the audience how we can feel so deeply for this story, these characters.  As my colleagues answer articulately as to how they come to feel/believe/become their characters, I wonder if there is a fascination in the audience as to how people who have not experienced Genocide can portray it.  I hope that this question means that we are believable, that we do justice to their personal history, private as it may be. 

When we go to a memorial, I will hope that I have a chance to ask a survivor how they feel when Westerners visit these sites and break down.  Is it upsetting, or insulting, or confusing...?

Lili Francks has not participated in this talkback, but afterwards, in the dark beside the massive NUR bus, this same young man who asked the question, finds her and hugs her and begins to tell her his story.  This has already happened to Lili after the opening night show - people come to her, they tell her things.  They feel she understands.

 We have been asked many times if Lili is Rwandese.  She hears their words with grace and humility, and allows them the time they need to connect with her, to tell her anything they need to tell.  She is a remarkable woman - as strong and as flexible as a lightning rod. 

John & Tyler have worked a very long day again - the 2nd show started late and after the talkback it is very late indeed.  John is driven to be in the thick of the action, and seems tireless. I wonder when it will hit him, the exhaustion.  I wonder when it will hit the rest of us - we are all running from one event to another, from one task to another, squeezing in personal errands for Halls or cigarettes at the local supermarket,  and the only respite seems to come when we are sitting, waiting for a meal to come to the table.

On Sunday our film crew will follow Jack, Layne & Rick Banville on their early morning walk about town as the local people make their way to work. They will go to church, hear the choir sing, and see what they can find in Butare.

Footnote: Later this week, I will meet a young female police officer who is only 18.  She has 2 children, 4 & 3 years old.  Many people in these positions are younger than their Canadian counterparts.  I haven't yet seen many elderly people on the streets in Butare.  I've seen only two of them, and one is screaming nonsense at a crowd of young men, who are teasing him, trying to box with him.  One man tells me in French that he is mentally ill - "fou".



Post by Tara

We are to show up at the theatre for 1:30 pm call, ready ourselves, and if an audience shows up, we will do a show.  If not, there will be no show until the evening.

Audience trickles in, some actors sit in the space while others sit in the dressing rooms below the stage.  Their laughter floats up through the vents into the empty space.  Eventually we have an audience and we begin, an hour late, at 3:30 pm.  Again, there is no one in the seats on stage left.  Empty rows of orange charirs facing us down.  Full seats in centre and stage right. 

Act One goes like stink and we retreat to the dressing rooms.  I am chewing on GasEx strips like they are fruit roll-ups.  The tension is low-grade, different from last night, but the clarity of the show from last night has been retained.

At intermission, we become aware that there is something happening at the doors of the theatre.  There are people outside demanding to be let into the theatre, something about a soccer game scheduled to be shown in our space.  There is a crowd forming.  We are kept out of it, but we definitely know something big is happening outside when Act Two begins. 

We can hear the sound of a mob outside.  It is terrifying.  We adjust our volume and keep going. 
Half of the audience on stage right has disappeared.  (Later we find out that they have gone up to the security booth to watch the soccer match on the television there - sports wins out over theatre yet again...) 

We do, however, have new audience members in the house.  Small children - two in the front row downstage of us, and one small child sitting on stage left, maybe nine years old, slumped in a chair right beside Layne Coleman.  They are both lit in Rebecca Picherak's gorgeous guerilla lighting.  Both Layne and the child are wearing clothes of roughly the same colour.  Layne will later say that he felt this child was the ghost of his character's younger self.  It is eerily beautiful to see them there together as Act Two begins, and gains power almost to match the strength of the mob outside. 

I realize that the machete scene is coming up, and wonder what this child will think.  I wonder if he understands any of this play.  I wonder if he has ever seen live theatre.  So many questions flit through my mind as Act Two unfurls, borne from the presence of this small child.

We finish the play to brief applause.  The child does not applaud, merely watches silently from his chair.
There is no talkback today, and we flee downstairs to our dressing room.  I think it may be a good idea to clear out asap, because of the mob outside.  Everyone is jangled.  We change and charge upstairs to a crew of Rwandans and Volcano technicians changing over the space rapidly, so that a giant screen can be raised to show the soccer match in between our two shows.  We can hear the audience already in the seats of the auditorium behind the curtain.

We flee to the Ibis Hotel for pasta before our next show this evening.

Post by Tara

Early morning in Butare - Jack & Layne seem to rise with the sun.  They return from exploration walks just as the rest of us crawl out of our mosquito nets and emerge blinking into the sunlit courtyard of the Motel Mont Huye in search of coffee.

Breakfast is coffee and fresh-baked white bread.  A plain omelette costs 400 francs (about 50cents), and goes down well with chunks of fresh avocado purchased from the women we find in town walking along the street with avocados in baskets balanced on their heads (also 50 cents).

The film crew once again, like they did yesterday, leaves for the theatre before all of the actors.  Gord is pulling double-duty, but today we convince him to take the morning off while John and Tyler cover the preparations at the theatre.  He has a big job to do in the show, and it will be a long day.  Our crew is pulling long days - yesterday at the theatre, today again at the theatre.

The actors are called for noon, and most walk to the University.  There is a wide-spreading tree with the most fragrant smell just outside the theatre, and we gather below it for notes from Ross, taken during our last Toronto show.

The film crew follows our every move - these guys are tireless.

After notes, we are taken into the space for a walk-through, and down into the basement to our dressing room.  In the basement, in a large open space, we rehearse sections from the play with Ross, for notes and adjustments. The Technicians continue to focus lights and build cues upstairs.  The lighting board is not recording cues, and until the Belgian technicians return from their lunch break, all is chaos.  They fix it just before as the actors arrive on stage for a run/cue-to-cue. 

We barrel through the play from cue to cue, with unfamiliar chairs, dealing with the metal trap and its uneven edges.  The curtains are closed and the audience is on stage with the actors on three sides.  Ross/Rick/Guillaume carried 70 chairs from the University library to the theatre in the blistering sun of noon-time.  Behind the actors is the high brick wall back of the building.  It feels like a prison. 

At 4:30 pm we begin a run with the festival's artistic director, Odile "Kiki" Gakire Katesein attendance, with Rebecca building cues as we work, and only get through Act One.  The actors are released for dinner, and the tech crew stays building cues.  We decamp tout de suite to the Ibis Hotel for dinner - I offer to order food for Ross & Rick & Rebecca so that when they arrive, their dinner is waiting for them.  We offer to bring samosas for our stage manager Guillaume, who is being a hero and staying at the space to get the job done for tonite.

Wolf down food.  Whip to the theatre.  Some walk, some taxi. Lili Francks, Jack Nicholsen, & I take a taxi, a long white van filled to capacity with people. For 100 francs, we ride among Rwandans to the University gates, and walk up the long driveway to the Auditorium.

We arrive for our 7:30 pm call on the run from the restaurant and do songs in the dressing room. Fights on stage.  We share a bathroom in the dressing room - there is no toilet seat.  I am learning to squat in mid-air and to ignore the fact that everyone else can hear me.  Moods vascillate from stoic to hysterical.  The film crew is with us as we wait in the basement.  I am terrified but the feeling of togetherness is palpable.  Eventually we make our way upstairs to wait in the theatre.

At 8:30 pm there are only 6 people in the house.  We wait.  By 9:10 pm we have about 40 people and we begin.

I remember the intensity of this performance, the clarity of my fellow performers - articulation is bumped up but more than that, there is a sense of the need to communicate.  We do not know if the audience understands - there is scattered & sporadic laughter from some of the Festival attendees, and silence from the rest of the house. 

One whole side leaves at intermission and we come back to empty seats on stage left, a sea of empty seats.  The performers push on, dauntless, clear, keenly focussed on doing their best for these people, here, this night.  Amy Rutherford's partner, Stephane, sits by the door to explain/deny entry (& invite back for tomorrow's show) for latecomers who are still arriving even after the late start.

The talkback afterwards, in costume.  All through the evening I have looked at my colleagues and friends and thought - FELT - only one phrase ripple through my mind, "Oh! Brave!"  As they speak about the importance of what they do, and how they do it, why they do it, I am glad to be in such good (and thoughtful, dedicated) company. 

Volcano's fixer, Laurette Kabanyana, translates into Kinyarwandan, & Guillaume translates into French. There is remarkable feedback from some audience members, silence from others.  Even with the synopsis in Kinyarwandan & French, did they understand? What do they think?

• Hearing from Gloria about how the play helps her to reconcile what happened to her family during the Genocide is a big moment. 
• Pamela Acaye, a poet and documentarian from Uganda, says that she identifies with each character's story, pointing to each of us in turn.  She comes to Amy and says she does not identify with or understand Julia Todd - and this is a conversation she needs to have with herself.  I will never forget this gentle turn of phrase which insists on personal responsibility in the face of the unknown. 
• Lilliane - a fellow performer whom we will also come to know during our time here - speaks of the universality of this story, it is a shared story, a human story.  Genocide. 

I leave wondering if we will hear from Rwandans before we leave as to how the feel about this play, about us.

We need this for the film, and we need it for ourselves as artists.  When will we get it? Will we get it? Is it selfish to ask?  Possibly.

Gloria has procured a massive bus from the University, a gift from the President of Rwanda, and we pile onto it to return to the Hotel to decompress with beer and talks with our new friends from the Festival.  It is already 12:30 am.

I feel inadequate expressing the magnitude of this evening.  It is one of the biggest - beyond all previous experience - days of my life.  It requires beer and music on Rick Banville's porch at the Mont Huye, songs from our new friends and from Jack & Rick & Sammy (a Rwandan musician we will also come to know and love).  It is a magical evening which ends at 4:30 am after we wake our neighbors, who gently ask us to cease and desist.

We discover, late into the evening, that tomorrow we have two shows - a matinee has been added.  There has been little publicity and we don't know if anyone will be there for the matinee.  This group is up for it - what are we here for if not to perform? We will be there - we will see what happens.

Post by Tara

Photos & Coverage coming soon from Jack Nicholsen, who has a powerful connection to this evening's story.

Jack elbowed for room among photographers and two camera crews to capture this experience.
He has much to say, and will post soon.

On Thursday afternoon, after settling into our rooms upon arrival, I walk to the National University with our Production Assistant, the tenacious & thorough Jeannie Calleja, and our fixer/translator Laurette Kabanyana. We are going to the opening ceremonies of the Festival.  Hard to believe we arrived in Kigali last night at 3 am, only just got here by bus, and are running to the next thing already.  The Film crew will be covering the event tonite, after following our technicians through their early work in the space where we will be performing, a space just chosen after touring all available venues, a space hard-won by all organizers involved.  The NUR Auditorium, where we will also see the opening of the Festival this evening.

We are powering downhill on the dusty and rocky verge of the highway, with Laurette periodically grabbing our elbows when we get too close to the edge of the roadway. The taxi vans & motorcycle taxis will sometimes share one lane as they pass you, and Laurette is afraid we will be schmucked on our way. After such a long journey, flexing the legs feels really good. The day is hot and dry and we soak up the heat as we pass Rwandans also walking downhill toward the University.

We meet a man coming towards us and as he passes he smiles at us, speaks a phrase in Kinyarwandan to Laurette, and she laughs – a deep chuckle. We ask Laurette what he said to her.

“What’s your hurry?”

It will take me the whole two weeks to relax (or become exhausted!) before, in the last few days in Kigali, I can finally walk Africa speed.

It feels wonderful.

When we arrive at the National University of Rwanda, Jeannie & I are stopped by the security guard who saunters over, Africa speed. I realize it is very powerful to walk slowly, especially when someone is waiting for you. We must show our passports to gain entry to the University (luckily, we have them). Laurette explains in Kinyarwandan (again, it proves vital to have a fixer/translator at your side) that we are artists for the Festival.

He stares at our passports for a long time, and finally lets us through to the University.

The opening ceremonies await us.

Then we will attend a multi-disciplinarian piece of dance theatre with live music.



 
Post by Tara

We arrive in Butare and our bus bumps down a rutted red-dirt road and into a stone-walled courtyard.

The Motel Mont Huye is a haven, this is immediately clear - there is a hush in the long, narrow courtyard with rooms on either side.  Each room has a small porch screened in by fragrant hedges.  The staff are hanging sheets and towels on the line in the courtyard.

Mosquito nets are hung, then the technical staff bolt into town to find the nearest hardware store for lighting equipment.  They will be building/jury-rigging lights somehow, and they take our fixer Laurette to help.

The rest of us walk up the dirt road and along a bustling main street to the Ibis Hotel for dinner and many bottles of Primus.  We discover that the pasta at the Ibis is the only sure thing on the menu - that and the Primus, of course.

Later, the courtyard is quiet and peaceful, and we begin to know the young girls who staff the hotel's restaurant.  They start work very early, and are still there at 1 am, even if they have a cold.
We are practicing our Kinyarwanda and they are very patient with us. 
Muraho = Hello
Amakuru = How are you?
Ni Meza = I'm fine

Tomorrow we load into the theatre and have our first show in Butare.
For now, we sleep.

Journey by bus to Butare, which hosts the National University of Rwanda, our first stop on the theatre tour.  We wind along the newly paved road between Kigali & Butare.   Many towns have changed names recently, and before our arrival, we were told that Butare was also known as Huye for reasons not entirely clear.  (Once we arrive, we are told that Butare is in Huye province, but is still known as Butare). 

A crash course in the beauty of the Rwandan countryside.  Great roads, crazy drivers. Steady streams of people working fields or transporting their harvests to destinations unknown to us. Children waving and chasing the bus, "Muzungu, Muzungu"! Kinyarwandan for "white person".

We see long lines of prisoners in orange or pink uniforms along the roadways as we drive. Reminders of the past, and the present.

Terraced farms, with banana trees on the incline.  Rice paddies in the valleys.  Lush, green foliage.

We have been told that Rwanda is one of the most beautiful places on earth.  It is one thing to imagine it, another to experience it.  The powerful beauty of this country is unforgettable.

We have been here for only 12 hours.  Jetlagged and opened by the journey, we approach Butare.

Sun going down on Butare.

3:00 am in Kigali after a smooth process through the airport.  All of our luggage has arrived.  "That NEVER happens", says one member of the crew.  We are lucky so far.

We load up our luggage, equipment and humanity into three vehicles and drive the hills and curves of Kigali. It is dark, we've paid our money and we have no idea what is going to happen to us. We check into The Hotel Des Mille Collines to find that our rooms hadn't been paid for. Volcano's Production Manager, the intrepid Rick Banville, puts the actors' rooms on the company card but finds out that the rate is not in American funds (as expected) but Euros. Hmmm.

Up in our rooms sleep surprisingly escapes us so we open up the duty free for a night cap standing on the balcony listening for the threatening buzz of mosquitoes. Looking at the night sky and the moon, we realize collectively that we are below the Equator.  10 people cram into the tiny WC to flush the toilet. Does the water swirl the opposite way than in Canada? Yes, it does.

In the morning, the logistics.  Phones, Currency.  The Volcano Fixer, Laurette Kabanyana, herds the company out of the hotel to the UTC - the new mall located next to the Milles Collines.  An MTN Pay-as-you-go cell phone in Rwanda costs the equivalent of $19 CAD , quite a change from Canadian cell phone costs.  A phone card with 6,000 credits costs 5,000 Rwandan francs, roughly $10 CAD, which gives you about 2,000-3,000 minutes of calling within Rwanda. SMS's are widely used here - they cost half the credits of a call.

The group winds down brick sidewalks to a money changing shop, fondly referred to as the "Hole in the Wall".  There seem to be as many currency exchange shops in Kigali as there are Starbucks in Vancouver. Each member of the group enters the small office behind a locked door and sits down to do business with the owner, but our fixer has taken us to the nearest shop with the best rate of exchange from USD to Rwandan francs.  The personal touch here in financial matters reminds one of banking as it was done 1900-1950 - person to person, over a desk.  (Incidentally, crisp bills of high denomination are more highly valued, and if you have USD issued in 1996 or previous, they will not be accepted). 

There are two framed Million dollar bills above the wicket - one with Obama's face, one with Kagame's face.  Just below the ceiling in the centre back wall, far above every other object on the walls, we see a framed photo of President Paul Kagame.  This is something we will notice in every establishment as we spend time here; the photos is always placed at the highest point of the room, just below the ceiling.

Money and phones in hand, we take breakfast at the hotel (the best coffee we've had in days), and load up our bus for Butare. 

It is one o'clock pm, and the road trip is just beginning.

Tara programs her new phone while Guillaume gets organized for Butare. In the background some of the gang sip coffee at The Bourbon Cafe, Kigali.

Lili with a "few" of our bags to be loaded on the Bus to Butare.

Ross is pretty happy about the name on our "bus". http://volcano.ca

Rick negotiates rooms for our return to The Hotel des Mille Collines.

Really? 15 people, luggage, props and wardrobe. Hmmm.

That's eight. Seven more to go.

Amy. The bus is Rolling. We're on our way.

Post by Jack & Tara

Photos by Jack

The Poster for Goodness at the National University of Rwanda in Butare

Well, we have lived up to that name and more.  It has been a whirlwind trip with extremely spotty internet connection and a wild schedule - hence this sporadic blog.  Shooting, performing, shooting, performing, shooting some more and then drinking many a "grand Primus" has filled our time.  We've has been 'burning the candle on both ends' and have been having a great time. 

We have amazing footage of a country that is filled with contradictions.  The most intense of which is of course the memory of what happened here 15 years ago in comparison to the beauty of the countryside and the forward looking nature of the people.  Memorials dot the countryside.  Prisoners dressed in pink - denoting genocide perpetrators - work in gangs at the side of the road.  And the people are incredibly gentle, funny and proud.  We have been welcomed warmly and there is genuine gratitude for us being here. 

It is odd to perform the play for genocide survivors and we have been hungry for their feedback.  Butare was awesome.  The walk to the university from our motel was a tour through rural Rwandan society.  Aside from angering a mob of local football fans when our performance delayed the watching of the Chelsea match, our audience has been gentle and enthusiastic.  We're all experiencing something new.

Post by Gord Rand

Tara and Guillaume

After almost 24 hours in transit we board our 3rd plane. After a brief stop in Bujumbura it jolts us awake in Kigali almost 4 hours later. We take a bus from the plane to the the Kigali terminal to collect our luggage and find a ride to the hotel. It is 3:00 a.m. in Rwanda.

Layne and Rick. Almost there.

Post and Photos by Jack

During our delay in Toronto, John and Gord discuss the challenges that lay ahead.

Lili in Amsterdam catching some zzz's

30 hours in transit.

Wildly vaccillating moods - silly, maudlin, annoyed - all degenerating into sleep as the journey stretches on and on.

In the Nairobi airport the smokers in the cast/crew find an internet cafe and indulge in a desperate search...
to no avail.

Nairobi Airport, where the local beer costs $2USD

It is 10:30 pm in Nairobi when we walk out onto the tarmac for our final plane to Bujumbura, then Kigali.

This is the first time that many of us have boarded a plane from the tarmac.

We are almost there...