Land of a Thousand Hills-A Journey to Africa
They say that a picture is worth a thousand words so I hope my photos well express the beauty of the land and it’s people.
In a rural village of farmers in Gisenyi, Rwanda, a normally quiet and peaceful setting, there are swarms of soldiers, militia men carrying clubs and guns.
Screams and gunfire can be heard amongst the pools of smoke, there is a sense of horror in the air.
Just a few miles away is Rosamond Carr’s property which if one didn’t know any better could easily be mistaken for the English countryside, with it’s perfectly manicured gardens covered with a blooming oasis of flowers.
In her 80’s, Roz is found graceful and stoic, poised and unruffled gently clasping her string of pearls when Philippe her cook is now threatening to kill her with his machete. A gang of boys called “The interhamwe” (meaning “those who attack together”) egg Philippe on. They tell him to just get the job done. Roz eyes the blood stains on his shirt as she silently acknowledges what he is capable of. Exerpt from Roz’s book Land of a Thousand Hills
That was April of 1994 where in the time span of just one hundred days, close to one million people were brutally slaughtered in Rwanda.
I had just finished reading Philip Gourevitch’s book, “Tomorrow you and your family will be killed” It contained the original story of Paul Rusesabagina, the hotel manager of the Milles Collines Hotel, who with his bravery had saved 1000 people. His story would be told to the world by way of the film Hotel Rwanda.
To me this was only part one of the story with the second half remaining an open question, whatever happened to this country, this nation, and it’s people ten years later.
My curiosity got the better of me, as in November of 2004 I decided to take a trip to Rwanda to see firsthand, the answers to those questions.
As the plane made it’s final approach to Kigali, I fidgeted nervously in my seat. It was part fear and anticipation, as I wondered what to expect in this war ravaged country where only ten years prior, a genocide of massive proportions had taken place.
I didn’t have long to think about it as the pilot jarred me back to the present moment with his announcement that the Kigali airport lights were down and that if they wouldn’t resume within ten minutes we would be rerouted to Antebi.
Ten minutes felt like an eternity but thankfully the lights came back on and my thoughts looked forward to meeting my special 92 year old friend, Rosamond Halsey Carr.
Rosamond was no ordinary woman. After having worked several years as a fashion illustrator in New York City, she fell in love and followed her husband Kenneth Carr, a big game hunter and explorer to Africa. It wasn’t long before she realized that her marriage was doomed but she had decided to remain in Africa for it had captured her heart. A white woman from Orange County New Jersey, she built her life and pyrethrum flower plantation on the foothills of the majestic Virunga mountains.
That fateful spring of 1994, in the face of genocide, two Belgium soldiers frantically knocked upon her door forcing her to evacuate her home and with it, the life that she had so painstakingly built. With nothing but the clothes on her back, she fled to the safety of America, only to return months later to find a country, it’s people and her plantation in utter ruin.
Most devasting was the sight of Rwanda’s littlest victims, the countless orphans who had lost everything.
In a moment of sheer inspiration Roz, having never been able to have children of her own, together with the help of her longtime African partner Sembagare, decided to transform part of her plantation into an orphanage and at the age of 80 went from having no children to just over ninety.
Roz, in her book, “Land of a thousand hills” says about Rwanda, “It’s people are my strength - the children my greatest joy, I think G-d sleeps in Rwanda.”
I think she’s right. The mountains rise out of the mist to cast shadows across the land, and the land with it’s panoramic vistas is stunningly beautiful with it’s quilted landscapes and vivid patchworks of color.
The people, especially the children, are unforgettable. The kids loved having their pictures taken, and what I captured with my lens was a kind of raw beauty. Their eyes revealed a purity of spirit, an honesty of being, free of airs, materialism or personas.
I knew the world really was in fact, “six degrees of separation” when whilst driving along a remote road near Lake Kivu, there in the distance, on the back of a barefoot man, was the jacket of the famed Montreal Canadians hockey team, replete with the big “C” logo blazoned on it’s back!
It’s been many years since I left Rwanda, but Rwanda has not left me. In September of 2006, at the age of 94, Roz passed, but I am forever grateful for the time I spent with her. All the children that she loved and saved are a part of her living legacy.
The Imbabazi orphanage she founded still lives on today.
Photo gallery: Landscapes, Thanksgiving Lunch in Roz’s backyard with the Imbabazi kids photo, Rosamond Halsey Carr, Sembagare driving the Imbabazi truck, the children and people of Rwanda, by ®Bonnie Meisels
