Kindness is the language which the deaf can hear and the blind can see. ~Mark Twain

Finally home...but my last week in Rwanda was probably one of my most eventful and certainly the most moving...

Last Wednesday, I was walking home from Gisimba and had a sudden realization as I saw a man who was clearly in need of help: If I was laying on the side of the road, shaking with a wound on my head and foaming from the mouth, I would certainly hope that somebody, anybody, would stop to help me! Walking from Sonatube, there was such a many, laying on the side of the road, clearly injured and shaking. Yet, there was not a single person stopping to help. To be in need of help and having no number to call was very frustrating. I totally take advantage of our 911 system, to just know that help can be on the way when it is needed. I was clueless if there was any system like that in place in Rwanda. After trying to catch the attention of a few passerbys, one man did stop. He spoke only French, but he clearly understood when I said, "This man needs help. Where can I find help?" I walked to the small store I pass every day and asked the woman inside if there was an emergency number to call, that a man down the road needed help. Thank goodness the french speaking man came with me as he began explaining in kinyarwanda to her. As they tried to decide how I could find the police (who are actually posted at certain locations on the side of the road all around town, but just like at home, they are never around when you need them!), I saw the military truck driving by in the background, taking the soldiers to the placements for the evening. I asked them if the military would be able to find the police. They seemed to think so. I went quickly outside and back down the road, past the sick man who was still laying there with no help, but I didn't reach the truck before it was pulling away. I tried to stop a moto driver to ask him if he could bring a policeman to me, but he must have thought I was nuts and surly couldn't understand a thing I was saying. Just at that time, a second military truck was driving by. I followed it immediately to its stop and stood there waiting for the men to get out the back. I quickly asked, "English??" and one raised his hand. I proceeded to tell hiim that there was a man who needed help up the road and that I needed the police. He spoke to his boss real quick, asked another man to come with us, and they followed me to where the sick man was laying. I really could not believe how there was so much hesitation, as if they didn't really know what to do. This was the first moment I got close enough to the guy to see his face. He was clearly conscious at some level, but couldn´t hardly move other than the incontrollable shaking. Just looking into his eyes....I can still see him in my mind...this desperate plea for help....I reached down and just rubbed his arm, telling him we were trying to get him help, though he probably had no idea what I was saying....there is no telling how long this man layed there...the blood on his head drying and the foam or vomit on his face also nearly dried up....the military man reached down like he was checking his pulse and I asked him, is there an emergency number to call for help? he just looked at me. I said again, "we need to get this man to the hospital, what number can we call?" I gave him my phone and told him to call for help. Of course by this time there were many people standing around watching the muzunug with two military police - this surly sparked some curiosity - not the sick man on the street....I looked up and saw an ambulance from another town driving up the road and started waving my hands in the air. I cannot believe I got so lucky to find the help I needed just passing by. The ambulance stopped and a man got out to come look. We had found a piece of paper falling out of his shirt pocket. Upon further reading, we discovered the man had recently been released from a hospital of sorts, prehaps a mental hospital from the way the other men were saying he was not right in his head. I said I didn't care but that he still needed to get to a hospital now. Two men stooped down at his head and feet to lift him. I kenlt down with another man, each of us on either side of his hips, and the four of us lifted and carried him to the ambluance to load him inside. This little act had the crowd quite interested again in what the muzunugu was doing. I was a bit frustrated, to say the least. I am just so thankful that this man was able to get some help. We all thanked each other and soon went on our way. Walking home I was just so angry that no one was stopping to help this guy. I don't know if it is a cultural thing or just looking out for oneself or simply not paying attention to their surroundings, but it was really frustrating to think about at that time. Too much hatred in the world - we must really look out for each other.....but this was not the end of my run-ins with the Rwanda police.....

But more to come later today....