Our second and final day of training the Kigali Security Forces leaders ended with happy faces and lots of pictures. But before it would end, we would get to experience the ceremonial nature of the Rwandan culture.
They started the day again with song and dance. I smile thinking about it. It will seem a silly notion to my friends and family reading this. Singing and dancing as a group before the start of a business conference? But it wasn’t. It was uplifting and awesome.
At 2:30, we wrapped up the training session. In my last training block (there were seven of us sharing the training responsibilities), I told the group that it filled my heart with happiness to be with them. They beamed and clapped. Then I told them that it would make me sad to leave them because I so enjoyed listening to their comments and stories.
I’ve never told a group of people in a formal business setting that they “filled my heart with happiness.” It would seem inappropriate and maybe a bit corny in the States. It just seemed so appropriate here. It matched their open, affectionate nature. And it was an emotional experience for them. They looked deep into their hearts to answer a lot of difficult questions we posed to them, and they shared their stories bravely. One talked about about examining women who had been brutally raped; one left his bride at the alter to fulfill an urgent security issue; and another talked about investigating a crash site riddled with dead bodies.
Once training was complete, there was a ceremony involving the mayor of the district, and he was given much deference. Several people spoke, to include a few of the participants who had prepared a summary of the training for the mayor. The executive secretary (the leader of the group) told us that we were now Rwandans and part of their family, because it was obvious how much we cared for them and the quality of the training. The mayor was given the honor of speaking last and closing the ceremony. But before he did, he made it a point to ask us, the facilitators, to spread the word in America that Rwandans were no longer Hutu and Tutsi, but Rwandans. That they were committed to peace and reconciliation under the humble, caring leadership of President Kagame.
Then we walked outside to take photos. There was a lot of hugging and hand shaking, smiling and posing. One man gave Malcolm a picture of the man’s family. I suppose he wanted Malcolm to remember him. What a lovely people.
They started the day again with song and dance. I smile thinking about it. It will seem a silly notion to my friends and family reading this. Singing and dancing as a group before the start of a business conference? But it wasn’t. It was uplifting and awesome.
At 2:30, we wrapped up the training session. In my last training block (there were seven of us sharing the training responsibilities), I told the group that it filled my heart with happiness to be with them. They beamed and clapped. Then I told them that it would make me sad to leave them because I so enjoyed listening to their comments and stories.
I’ve never told a group of people in a formal business setting that they “filled my heart with happiness.” It would seem inappropriate and maybe a bit corny in the States. It just seemed so appropriate here. It matched their open, affectionate nature. And it was an emotional experience for them. They looked deep into their hearts to answer a lot of difficult questions we posed to them, and they shared their stories bravely. One talked about about examining women who had been brutally raped; one left his bride at the alter to fulfill an urgent security issue; and another talked about investigating a crash site riddled with dead bodies.
Once training was complete, there was a ceremony involving the mayor of the district, and he was given much deference. Several people spoke, to include a few of the participants who had prepared a summary of the training for the mayor. The executive secretary (the leader of the group) told us that we were now Rwandans and part of their family, because it was obvious how much we cared for them and the quality of the training. The mayor was given the honor of speaking last and closing the ceremony. But before he did, he made it a point to ask us, the facilitators, to spread the word in America that Rwandans were no longer Hutu and Tutsi, but Rwandans. That they were committed to peace and reconciliation under the humble, caring leadership of President Kagame.
Then we walked outside to take photos. There was a lot of hugging and hand shaking, smiling and posing. One man gave Malcolm a picture of the man’s family. I suppose he wanted Malcolm to remember him. What a lovely people.