Getting There

There is no direct flight from Nashville to Kigali, the capital of Rwanda. Instead, our flights took us from Nashville, to Detroit, to Amsterdam, to Nairobi, to Bujumbura, to Kigali. This path totaled six flights, almost 10,000 miles, 21 hours in the air and 37 hours of total travel. Yet the first minor miracle we experienced was that every flight and all baggage arrived on time. The flights were generally uneventful, but I did make two observations. First, English is truly the international language. The signs and announcements made in both Amsterdam and Nairobi were predominantly in English, as were the flight attendant announcements on the Kenya Air flights. Second, when we landed in Bujumbura (the capital of Burundi) on our way to Kigali, it was pitch black outside. We landed at about midnight, and there was not a light to be seen. In fact, as the plane hit the runway, I thought we were still above the clouds. Only after we had landed did floodlights come on at the jetway to show that we were at an airport. How could there be no lights to be seen on take-off or landing in a city capital? This was the first sign that we were not at home any more.

We landed in Kigali at 2:30 am, and were met by a greeting party of about 10 people. The greeters included Mary, Ebralie’s sister, along with her daughter Grace. There were also several members of the Kanombe Church, which we would visit the next day, including the pastor, Pastor Julius. They all gave us a very warm welcome and gave each of us a bouquet of flowers. We made the quick trip from the airport to the Presbyterian Church guest house, our residence for our stay in Rwanda. Despite how tired we all were from the trip, my senses were quite alive even on the trip from the airport. There is something about international travel that keeps one’s observations keen and on alert, even at 3 am after 37 hours of travel. And the main thing I observed were the hundreds of people out on the street walking, even at that late hour. We would later learn what a common sight this was.

I was also surprised and a bit alarmed that the police had set up a barricade on the main road leading to and from the airport, pulling over all vehicle traffic. This was an unsettling first experience in the city. Countless people had asked me before the trip if it was safe to go to Rwanda. We all knew something about the massive killings in the country 15 years earlier, and the perception lingered that crime was on ongoing issue. I later learned that the Kigali police man check-points throughout the city at all hours of the day and night. It is all part of a campaign to control crime, and it must be working. Kigali felt every bit as safe as any city I have traveled in. This feeling must have been shared by the people of Kigali, because there were people out walking in amazing numbers everywhere we went. Fortunately the fear of Rwanda as an unsafe, politically unstable country could not be further from the truth.