Hotel on the Lake: Gahini Diocese, Rwanda

The 2 hour ride up to Gahini Dioese from Kigali was beautiful. The banana trees, the terraced farms, the mud huts, the green hills...all just beautiful. I sat next to a Rwandan woman who was a judge near Gahini and who was returning from business in Kigali. We got to talking and she kept asking me things like, "So do you pray for other people?" and "So why are you an Anglican". She was quite sharp and seemed curious about Christianity.

The Diocese of Gahani stretches several hundred square kilometers, and includes dozens of small villages and markets. It's a very rural area, and few people even have money to travel to Kigali. The diocesan offices are in the small village of Gahini on a stretch of property that lumbers up the hill out of a large lake. The cathedral, the hospital, several schools and a rehabilitation center, and the diocesan office are all set on top of the hill, while the hotel "The Seeds of Peace Guesthouse" is located right on the shore of the lake with a beautiful view. The bishop there, Bp. Alexis, is a well traveled, smart, talkative, visionary type of man. He escorted me into his modest office for a brief visit when I arrived and set out my itenerary for the next several days: staying with a group of Australians in a newly built house right on the lake, spending time around Gahini, and taking a trip out to Kabaza on Sunday.

The 9 Aussies were mostly older folk in there late fifties and quite a delightful bunch. They came from a small Anglican parish near Melbourne, and were quite happy to answer my questions about Australian history. They were always making little jokes and were very committed to working in the hospital and around the diocese. Most of my time in Gahini was spent with this group.

Saturday I spent the entire day resting. After a wild week of traveling and trying to get back on my feet after loosing my luggage, I desperately needed a rest. I read, chatted with the Aussies, took a nap, and went for a swim in the lake. The food at the guesthouse is fantastic and we had sit down toilets and hot showers. Very comfortable accommodations. The bishop was of the opinion that all white people must staying in Western standard accommodations in Africa.

Then on Sunday I met up with Pastor Sanah and took the bus out to Kabaza parish. Pastor Sanah is a delightful man with an easy laugh, a decent grasp of English, and a warm disposition. We got off the bus and two bicycles were waiting for us. We hopped on and a few minutes later entered a plateau where a good sized mud building with a white cross stood. We went to the back of the building in a roofless mud room where Pastor Sanah changed into his vestments, and then we processed, with the two other catechists, into the church. The church was going bonkers. There were probably around 300 people packed in, all singing and clapping and dancing...and staring at me. I was the first white person to enter their church...ever. And probably the first white person in their village for several years. We sat in the front and listened to a few choirs sing (the churches have multiple choirs here instead of one...politics perhaps...I don't know exactly). I stood and gave a short greeting, which was then followed by more singing. There wasn't anything in the way of liturgy in the church, probably due to illiteracy and lack of resources for prayer books. I then gave a sermon on Romans 6, on the Christian life in Christ: unity, submission, and in grace, which was translated by Pastor Sanah.

We had a nice lunch in Pastor Sanah's house of rice, beef, and soup. I took a short rest, and then we spent the rest of the evening wandering around the village stopping into people's houses to chat. Before leaving every place we went to Pastor Sanah asked me to pray for the family. That was quite a blessing and an honor. We visited the foreman (who was constructing Pastor Sanah's new house), a family who lived in a small mud hut surrounded by banana trees, a group of young people, an old woman who had stomach ulcers, a gentleman who had had his leg cut off in the genocide, and the headmaster of the primary school. Many people wanted to know about what Americans ate and how things were different. I tried to tell them that they were blessed in many ways that American aren't. I told them that even though Americans are rich, we are very lonely and isolated from one another. Our community isn't half of what they have.

I decided to stay the night at Pastor Sanah's house and had a nice little bed (sticks for springs) in the storeroom of his mud brick house. I stared up at the ceiling at the tin roof with all its holes that looked like stars. Funny that the Medievals thought that the stars were pin pricks in the roof of heaven.

I returned back to Gahini Monday morning and spent the afternoon interviewing the bishop and visiting the hospital. After a nice dinner of meatballs, I said goodbye to my Australian friends and went to bed. I got a ride back to Kigali with the bishop, who had to come down for a meeting of the house of bishops, bought some shampoo and my bus ticket to Kampala and then went to an internet cafe.

I'll spend the night at the cathedral tonight and leave for Kampala tomorrow.