EXAMS
At South African universities (which they call 'varsity' instead of 'college') all your big papers and tests are graded by an external examiner from outside the university along with your professor. It seems unfair to me, because usually your professor will know what you have not covered in the class and won't mark you down if you don't include that info, but a stranger won't know what has and hasn't been covered.
Anyway, the point is that as I turned in my take-home exam essays yesterday I noticed that Pierre de Vos, a prof from another university who I cited extensively in my essays, was actually my external examiner. Awkward.
MOVIES
Brown Sugar has got to be one of the absolute dopest movies ever. Besides Sanaa Lathan being my favorite actress, that movie has an infinite number of hilarious line and a perfect story. Plus, how can you go wrong with Mos Def?
MUSIC
How come everything Wyclef does is just so good? I'm not exactly down with him being all "I'm from Haiti, so I've automatically got street cred" and all that. But apart from anything about reputation or cockiness, his songs consistently rock...in a hip hop sort of way, of course.
REFUGEES
The church has decided to limit the capacity of the shelter at 81 people. But there are still 10,000 people on the streets in Cape Town alone. The Anglican church leaders for South Africa have decided to follow the government's lead in saying that no more more non-government shelters should be set up, because reintegration should be the strategy now. But reintegration is a goal not a strategy. How are you going to magically reintegrate people back into communities when the whole reason that they had to leave their homes in the first place is because their lives were threatened by their neighbors??? People need homes, jobs, paperwork to return to their home countries, etc. The only way to help them get that is to allow them a safe place to stay at night and during the day to actively offer them tools to get jobs, homes, paperwork etc so that they can reintegrate....or relocate. Shelters are a stepping stone, and cutting them out of the process will not help.
I felt so bad last night because there was a torrential downpour that lasted for hours. It was harder than any rain that Seattle has ever seen. The refugees who are still sleeping on the streets and in the government's tent city must have been miserable. And this morning the refugees who were waiting in line outside Home Affairs so that they could get paperwork were attacked by locals. Knowledge, a man who has been staying at our shelter, along with several other guys were beat up. One was stabbed. And all this right in front of a government building.
What is also scary is the prevalence of the hatred towards the immigrants. My mother volunteers at a low-income school during the week and one of the little boys there, who is usually sweet and well-behaved, was walking around talking about how all the "dirty immigrants need to get out of South Africa." The boy is probably from Khayelitsha or one of the townships close by, and that is probably what everyone around him has been saying. How do you deal with that though? How do you convince people that the immigrants are not taking their jobs, and that they shouldn't hate them? There doesn't seem to be any answers. If I were an immigrant and I couldn't afford to live anywhere but in the townships, I would leave the country. I don't want them to have to do that, because often they are in South Africa because their home country is impoverished, war-torn, or run by an oppressive dictator. But I also don't think that their neighborhoods are going to be safe any time this year. Maybe life under Mugabe in Zimbabwe will be better than risking being murdered in South Africa.
Interestingly, I suddenly don't count as an immigrant any more. My SA citizenship was just confirmed. Of course I'm not the type of immigrant that anyone has animosity to anyway. It's all about the Africans.
"So what's the difference between rap and hip hop? It's simple. It's like saying you love somebody and being in love with somebody. Rap is only a word."
-Brown Sugar
Friday, May 30, 2008
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
Zillah...not as in E-Wa
I have never had an oral exam before today. My christening went fairly well, but the question and answer portion of it went a bit awry at the end when I decided to start a long babbling monologue. C'est la vie. My Human Rights Law prof should have known better than to ask me my views on the US Supreme Court as the last wrap-up question.
Speaking of human rights in action, the church shelter was a lot more full today. Another 40 people arrived last night and over the course of the day, so now there are around 80. My favorites are the family from Burundi. They have two little boys and one baby. One of the boys name is Mustafa and he's pretty feisty, and pretty adorable. The parents can't speak English completely fluently, but the husband did his best to tell me about Burundi's current government, which was interesting. Burundi is like a twin to Rwanda and they have had the same type of power-struggles between Tutsis and Hutus. Right now the president is Hutu. I feel so bad for the family though, because they had to spend two nights sleeping in the bush before they somehow made it to the church (in the city). Now the three children have scabies, but I think they will be getting treatment tomorrow.
Mayor Helen Zillah has shown herself to be somewhat of a crackpot regarding the whole refugee situation. Even though the emergency shelters thrown together by the city are filled to capacity, not nice at all, and turning people away, Mayor Zillah was still quoted saying that the refugees need to leave the informal church shelters because those are needed for events like weddings. Give me a break. It's not even a good wedding season. There are 10,000 refugees sleeping on the streets. Once those are taken care of by the city shelters, only then should the informal ones start closing down.
My Cousin: "Why are you painting your nails black? You're going to look goth."
Me: "Auntie Lynn paints her nails black, and she doesn't look goth."
My Cousin: "Well, then I suppose it is fine because Auntie Lynn is a MILF."
Speaking of human rights in action, the church shelter was a lot more full today. Another 40 people arrived last night and over the course of the day, so now there are around 80. My favorites are the family from Burundi. They have two little boys and one baby. One of the boys name is Mustafa and he's pretty feisty, and pretty adorable. The parents can't speak English completely fluently, but the husband did his best to tell me about Burundi's current government, which was interesting. Burundi is like a twin to Rwanda and they have had the same type of power-struggles between Tutsis and Hutus. Right now the president is Hutu. I feel so bad for the family though, because they had to spend two nights sleeping in the bush before they somehow made it to the church (in the city). Now the three children have scabies, but I think they will be getting treatment tomorrow.
Mayor Helen Zillah has shown herself to be somewhat of a crackpot regarding the whole refugee situation. Even though the emergency shelters thrown together by the city are filled to capacity, not nice at all, and turning people away, Mayor Zillah was still quoted saying that the refugees need to leave the informal church shelters because those are needed for events like weddings. Give me a break. It's not even a good wedding season. There are 10,000 refugees sleeping on the streets. Once those are taken care of by the city shelters, only then should the informal ones start closing down.
My Cousin: "Why are you painting your nails black? You're going to look goth."
Me: "Auntie Lynn paints her nails black, and she doesn't look goth."
My Cousin: "Well, then I suppose it is fine because Auntie Lynn is a MILF."
Monday, May 26, 2008
Butter
South Africans are absolutely crazy about their butter. It goes on EVERYTHING. Having a hot dog? Add some butter. Peanut butter and jelly? Don't forget the butter. Ham sandwich? Butter.
And I am not even talking about spreading a thin layer of butter on things. They are practically cutting slices off of the stick of butter to add on to their sandwiches. My cousin made me a ham and cucumber sandwich awhile ago and the butter was so thick I thought it was cheese. I nearly threw up when it turned out to be LARD. There is really nothing grosser than eating cucumber slathered in gelatinous greasiness.
Still, their cholesterol-heavy obsession is not exactly always so bad. For instance, the hot dog thing. I never would've thought of it, but putting butter on along with ketchup is so yummy because the hot dog melts the butter and it mixes with the ketchup and is fairly divine.
Don't even get me started on the amount of sugar South Africans use in tea and coffee. 4 teaspoons is the absolute minimum. How they are not more obese than Americans is beyond me.
Me reading aloud from a questionaire at a church shelter for displaced immigrants: "Are you missing any family members?"
Refugee from Zimbabwe: "Yes, you know, am so sad and I miss them so much everyday because both my wife and parents are back in Zim."
And I am not even talking about spreading a thin layer of butter on things. They are practically cutting slices off of the stick of butter to add on to their sandwiches. My cousin made me a ham and cucumber sandwich awhile ago and the butter was so thick I thought it was cheese. I nearly threw up when it turned out to be LARD. There is really nothing grosser than eating cucumber slathered in gelatinous greasiness.
Still, their cholesterol-heavy obsession is not exactly always so bad. For instance, the hot dog thing. I never would've thought of it, but putting butter on along with ketchup is so yummy because the hot dog melts the butter and it mixes with the ketchup and is fairly divine.
Don't even get me started on the amount of sugar South Africans use in tea and coffee. 4 teaspoons is the absolute minimum. How they are not more obese than Americans is beyond me.
Me reading aloud from a questionaire at a church shelter for displaced immigrants: "Are you missing any family members?"
Refugee from Zimbabwe: "Yes, you know, am so sad and I miss them so much everyday because both my wife and parents are back in Zim."
Saturday, May 24, 2008
Bring back Nelson Mandela, bring him back home to Soweto, I want to see him walking down the streets of South Africa...TOMORROW.
Okay, well not to Soweto exactly....but "back to the public sphere where he feels able to speak out against all the violence without stepping on the toes of Mbeki and Zuma and all the second generation leaders of the new South Africa" didn't fit nicely into the song.
And now onto things much less important and worldly...
I have another serious issue, and that is that because I am not uber close with any of my UCT friends or on a share-all basis with my cousins, I don't get the advice that I usually depend on to bring order to my life. Maybe that sounds bad, like I can't function on my own and need to depend on others, but I actually think it is very normal, if nothing else. There is always something to be added with a second opinion. And I can get so stubborn about things that I often need the view of an independent outsider (well, someone with my best interests at heart) who can be like, "dear, I actually think that you are being way too hard on your sister because its seems pretty clear that the reason she called you a bitch is because you ignored her for the past two weeks without realizing it" or something of that nature. [totally fabricated example, btdubs]
Anyway, the point is that it has gotten to that point where my own instincts are too muddled and confused for me to follow them. I am too wrapped up in the whole situation to understand why certain things are happening, how much I have contributed to them, and if I am being treated unfairly or not. I know I am a stubbornstubborn person and I always want people to recognize that I am right and, which usually ends up clouding my vision so that when I am actually wrong I don't even realize it. So recently, I have been trying hard to be fair and balanced but I can't tell if I am accidentally pulling a Fox News and putting my own biased twist on events, or if Josh is really being an unforgivable jackass.
Another thing to be said is that I am actually reluctant to write about this, because it is hard to understand without all the background...which I can't adequately give. It's also hard to understand exactly how things are from one story. I live a happy life, really. But if I am motivated to write, its usually going to be regarding something that put my panties in a twist. Pshaw. He really does make me very happy, and though it sounds crazy, I have wanted to be with him since I was ten years old (and vice versa, except that he is a year older, so he was 11) which makes things special in a way, and makes me unwilling to consider ending things.
That being said, just listen to what an ASS he was tonight:
All the familia went to see Indiana Jones tonight, except for his people. But, being the logistics queen that I am I quite nearly had it organized that the portion of the family that lives on his side of town would go pick him up so that he could come with too. Except I suppose I am not such a queen, because the plan bottomed out when the ones who were going to bring him had to leave without him, because he took too long to get home from golf. But instead of just saying, ah well, too bad the people who were going to do me a favor by giving me a ride had to leave before I could get back, he started a major vendetta...something about how it was their duty to wait for him and it was rude of them to leave without him. When they were the ones doing him a favor in the first place.
Then, he gets his friend to drive him all the way to the theater anyway. Nice, I suppose, because he mainly came to see me. But, not really that nice because he and his friend got tickets without even telling me that they were there, and without bothering to try and get seats so that I could sit with them too (theaters in SA assign you specific seats). Then he calls me and says he's at the theater, but he is not willing to even talk to any of the family because he is so mad about what happened. .How he implicated my immediate family in this when all we did was invite him to come is beyond me. We weren't the ones who left without him. Regardless, I once again masterfully worked things out so that I could sit with him in the movie. But after the movie, when the rest of the family congregated around us he stalked off without even saying goodbye to me, just because he wanted to make a point to them. The stupid thing is that he could have still made his twisted, undeserved point by being nice to me and pointedly ignoring the rest of them, but no....as soon as we're out of the theater, he decides to treat me like I am part of the enemy.
And he knows how important goodbyes are to me. Really important. Especially since I won't see him again until next weekend. Goodbyes = closure and warmth and affirmation. I even walked after him with one of my cousins and stopped him to say, "don't I get a goodbye." He just turned away. I hate to be one of thoooose girls and make excuses for him, but part of me wants to. I know he isn't mad at me, and didn't mean for things to get so out of hand. But, at the same time, that was so messed up and represents him prioritizing some stupid fight over treating me well. Still, I want him to be better, and I don't really want him to disappear from my life altogether. I don't know if I should get him to apologize for being a rude prick and make sure he doesn't pull bullshit like that again, or if its a lost cause and I should dump him.
And now onto things much less important and worldly...
I have another serious issue, and that is that because I am not uber close with any of my UCT friends or on a share-all basis with my cousins, I don't get the advice that I usually depend on to bring order to my life. Maybe that sounds bad, like I can't function on my own and need to depend on others, but I actually think it is very normal, if nothing else. There is always something to be added with a second opinion. And I can get so stubborn about things that I often need the view of an independent outsider (well, someone with my best interests at heart) who can be like, "dear, I actually think that you are being way too hard on your sister because its seems pretty clear that the reason she called you a bitch is because you ignored her for the past two weeks without realizing it" or something of that nature. [totally fabricated example, btdubs]
Anyway, the point is that it has gotten to that point where my own instincts are too muddled and confused for me to follow them. I am too wrapped up in the whole situation to understand why certain things are happening, how much I have contributed to them, and if I am being treated unfairly or not. I know I am a stubbornstubborn person and I always want people to recognize that I am right and, which usually ends up clouding my vision so that when I am actually wrong I don't even realize it. So recently, I have been trying hard to be fair and balanced but I can't tell if I am accidentally pulling a Fox News and putting my own biased twist on events, or if Josh is really being an unforgivable jackass.
Another thing to be said is that I am actually reluctant to write about this, because it is hard to understand without all the background...which I can't adequately give. It's also hard to understand exactly how things are from one story. I live a happy life, really. But if I am motivated to write, its usually going to be regarding something that put my panties in a twist. Pshaw. He really does make me very happy, and though it sounds crazy, I have wanted to be with him since I was ten years old (and vice versa, except that he is a year older, so he was 11) which makes things special in a way, and makes me unwilling to consider ending things.
That being said, just listen to what an ASS he was tonight:
All the familia went to see Indiana Jones tonight, except for his people. But, being the logistics queen that I am I quite nearly had it organized that the portion of the family that lives on his side of town would go pick him up so that he could come with too. Except I suppose I am not such a queen, because the plan bottomed out when the ones who were going to bring him had to leave without him, because he took too long to get home from golf. But instead of just saying, ah well, too bad the people who were going to do me a favor by giving me a ride had to leave before I could get back, he started a major vendetta...something about how it was their duty to wait for him and it was rude of them to leave without him. When they were the ones doing him a favor in the first place.
Then, he gets his friend to drive him all the way to the theater anyway. Nice, I suppose, because he mainly came to see me. But, not really that nice because he and his friend got tickets without even telling me that they were there, and without bothering to try and get seats so that I could sit with them too (theaters in SA assign you specific seats). Then he calls me and says he's at the theater, but he is not willing to even talk to any of the family because he is so mad about what happened. .How he implicated my immediate family in this when all we did was invite him to come is beyond me. We weren't the ones who left without him. Regardless, I once again masterfully worked things out so that I could sit with him in the movie. But after the movie, when the rest of the family congregated around us he stalked off without even saying goodbye to me, just because he wanted to make a point to them. The stupid thing is that he could have still made his twisted, undeserved point by being nice to me and pointedly ignoring the rest of them, but no....as soon as we're out of the theater, he decides to treat me like I am part of the enemy.
And he knows how important goodbyes are to me. Really important. Especially since I won't see him again until next weekend. Goodbyes = closure and warmth and affirmation. I even walked after him with one of my cousins and stopped him to say, "don't I get a goodbye." He just turned away. I hate to be one of thoooose girls and make excuses for him, but part of me wants to. I know he isn't mad at me, and didn't mean for things to get so out of hand. But, at the same time, that was so messed up and represents him prioritizing some stupid fight over treating me well. Still, I want him to be better, and I don't really want him to disappear from my life altogether. I don't know if I should get him to apologize for being a rude prick and make sure he doesn't pull bullshit like that again, or if its a lost cause and I should dump him.
Friday, May 23, 2008
Nkosi Sikelel' iAfrika
People are going ape shit. I have never been so frustrated with poor people. I am usually on the side of the revolution...the fight against the oppressor. But who exactly had the ass-hat idea that foreigners, who are generally fairly impoverished themselves are the new oppressors. It disgusts me to see the people running out of tiny ruined shops with their arms full of loot because their faces are so consistently euphoric. And the people whose shops they have ruined are hardly rich enough to bounce back without years and years of work and luck. Luck that they won't have in this climate of spreading xenophobia.
The violence is also very localized. It's in the townships and poor areas. I didn't even know about it for almost a week after it started because of my pampered Rondebosch existence (plus, since its exams now, I didn't even have time to open the paper or turn on the news). It's fairly amazing how it spread from Jo-burg to Durban to Cape Town. I understand that people who are already simmering with resentment can see that in Jo-burg they identified a certain enemy and struck against it and then have the bright idea to do the same. But seriously, I think its suspicious. I am almost convinced that there is a "third front" that the news has been talking about. Some group or person who is orchestrating the violence.
Fuck, though. Intra-ghetto revolutions aren't going to get anybody anywhere. It doesn't even make sense. I am so not condoning larger violence, but if you want to really get somewhere you have to find a bigger fish to fry than the Somali down the road who had the good fortune to start a small tuck shop.
What is with people today? They are now so separated from "the struggle" (against apartheid) that they have the gall to compare their ludicrous riots to the old ANC-type uprisings. Open a fucking book or consult a fucking elder. Don't shoot your neighbor and call it a righteous revolt.
The violence is also very localized. It's in the townships and poor areas. I didn't even know about it for almost a week after it started because of my pampered Rondebosch existence (plus, since its exams now, I didn't even have time to open the paper or turn on the news). It's fairly amazing how it spread from Jo-burg to Durban to Cape Town. I understand that people who are already simmering with resentment can see that in Jo-burg they identified a certain enemy and struck against it and then have the bright idea to do the same. But seriously, I think its suspicious. I am almost convinced that there is a "third front" that the news has been talking about. Some group or person who is orchestrating the violence.
Fuck, though. Intra-ghetto revolutions aren't going to get anybody anywhere. It doesn't even make sense. I am so not condoning larger violence, but if you want to really get somewhere you have to find a bigger fish to fry than the Somali down the road who had the good fortune to start a small tuck shop.
What is with people today? They are now so separated from "the struggle" (against apartheid) that they have the gall to compare their ludicrous riots to the old ANC-type uprisings. Open a fucking book or consult a fucking elder. Don't shoot your neighbor and call it a righteous revolt.
Thursday, May 22, 2008
Kindergarten teachers change the world.
Oh and guess who saved herself from a cold because she took Airborne and drank tea all day? Me. I tell you, that shit works. I was so stuffed up on Wednesday that my head felt like an air bubble and I used half a toilet paper roll blowing my nose, but after my rooibos+Airborne flip cup regimen I woke up today without even the hint of a cold.
Psych 101+Rwanda
Today.
I woke up to beautiful sun and warm weather only to not set one foot outside all day long. Don't you just love those days? I know I do. Snap. Especially when I haven't even had a chance to shower. In three days. I am not even kidding. The semester system is brutal like middle school gym. You know...boring at first. A lot of time spent sitting on your butt on the floor listening to lectures. And all of a sudden one day you have to dash off and run a mile as quick as you can. Or in this case, all of a sudden all of your term papers are due and you have to write three in a row.
On top of all this, I have a serious problem that may in fact demand psychiatric help. I am overly empathetic in the extreme. Case in point: When I was watching the Manchester v. Chelsea game last night I just about died when the Chelsea captain missed his goal in the shoot out. He just completely choked because he slipped on the grass. And it cost them the game. I nearly cried. I bet he felt horrible....but the thing is, I'm not even necessarily a Chelsea fan. I like Arsenal. Why do I waste all this emotion on soccer stars who I had never even heard of before. I am freaking writing a 30 pg paper on the Rwandan genocide and these children whose mothers and fathers decided to kill them in 1994....does that make me cry? No. I type away like nobody's business. But privileged soccer stars living cushy existences who miss their penalty shots=waterworks.
Somebody should probably study me.
Or put me in therapy like I said.
I was actually in therapy once, after Olive died. It was interesting, really. Right out of the movies. There was a lot of nodding and "how did that make you feel?" and "hmmm"ing on her part. She never said anything else. It was so silent, and awkward with her just staring at me over her glasses that I would just babble on and on and on. Which, in retrospect was probably the point. Expensive babbling though. Serves my parents right for demanding that I see a shrink rather than actually discussing my "issues" with me themselves. It's funny actually, because I didn't really have issues. I just hated being in Baltimore because I didn't know anyone there. And since my best friend had just died, I felt that I deserved to yell at my parents for taking me away from the PNW and everything familiar. The only issue I have with the whole death thing is that I don't have serious issues at all. I miss her of course, but I don't think about her often. I think it is a mild form of denial, where what I don't think about can't hurt me and so I don't think about it.But I have no idea....maybe I would know if my therapist had ever said anything besides "hmmm." It's really very easy. And I honestly don't have any real build up of whatever that you always hear about with people who are repressing things.
Weird.
Anyway, did you know that the current Rwandan government is absolutely ludicrous? I had no idea. Just think about it. The Hutu majority makes up over 85% of the population. In 1994 they committed a genocide in response to various things, but primarily because they became convinced that the Tutsi-RPF who had just invaded were going to take back power and oppress them once again. So now, the genocide has been ended, but the Tutsi-RPF once again has all the political power in the country. And they have banned all other political parties. They also had the bright idea to punish every single person (Hutus) who participated in the genocide, even if they only damaged property. But they refuse to hold accountable the Tutsi RPF members and supporters that massacred Hutus both in 1994, in the refugee camps in 1995 and in Zaire in 1996. So what is the moral of the story here? That the Tutsi minority captured total power and now are going to institute a crack addict form of victors justice, and risk inciting the vast majority of the country back to violence. The worst part is that the entire world has ignored the fact that the RPF government has a human rights record nearly as bad as Mugabe's in Zimbabwe. They don't call the RPF Africa's Israel for nothing.
I woke up to beautiful sun and warm weather only to not set one foot outside all day long. Don't you just love those days? I know I do. Snap. Especially when I haven't even had a chance to shower. In three days. I am not even kidding. The semester system is brutal like middle school gym. You know...boring at first. A lot of time spent sitting on your butt on the floor listening to lectures. And all of a sudden one day you have to dash off and run a mile as quick as you can. Or in this case, all of a sudden all of your term papers are due and you have to write three in a row.
On top of all this, I have a serious problem that may in fact demand psychiatric help. I am overly empathetic in the extreme. Case in point: When I was watching the Manchester v. Chelsea game last night I just about died when the Chelsea captain missed his goal in the shoot out. He just completely choked because he slipped on the grass. And it cost them the game. I nearly cried. I bet he felt horrible....but the thing is, I'm not even necessarily a Chelsea fan. I like Arsenal. Why do I waste all this emotion on soccer stars who I had never even heard of before. I am freaking writing a 30 pg paper on the Rwandan genocide and these children whose mothers and fathers decided to kill them in 1994....does that make me cry? No. I type away like nobody's business. But privileged soccer stars living cushy existences who miss their penalty shots=waterworks.
Somebody should probably study me.
Or put me in therapy like I said.
I was actually in therapy once, after Olive died. It was interesting, really. Right out of the movies. There was a lot of nodding and "how did that make you feel?" and "hmmm"ing on her part. She never said anything else. It was so silent, and awkward with her just staring at me over her glasses that I would just babble on and on and on. Which, in retrospect was probably the point. Expensive babbling though. Serves my parents right for demanding that I see a shrink rather than actually discussing my "issues" with me themselves. It's funny actually, because I didn't really have issues. I just hated being in Baltimore because I didn't know anyone there. And since my best friend had just died, I felt that I deserved to yell at my parents for taking me away from the PNW and everything familiar. The only issue I have with the whole death thing is that I don't have serious issues at all. I miss her of course, but I don't think about her often. I think it is a mild form of denial, where what I don't think about can't hurt me and so I don't think about it.But I have no idea....maybe I would know if my therapist had ever said anything besides "hmmm." It's really very easy. And I honestly don't have any real build up of whatever that you always hear about with people who are repressing things.
Weird.
Anyway, did you know that the current Rwandan government is absolutely ludicrous? I had no idea. Just think about it. The Hutu majority makes up over 85% of the population. In 1994 they committed a genocide in response to various things, but primarily because they became convinced that the Tutsi-RPF who had just invaded were going to take back power and oppress them once again. So now, the genocide has been ended, but the Tutsi-RPF once again has all the political power in the country. And they have banned all other political parties. They also had the bright idea to punish every single person (Hutus) who participated in the genocide, even if they only damaged property. But they refuse to hold accountable the Tutsi RPF members and supporters that massacred Hutus both in 1994, in the refugee camps in 1995 and in Zaire in 1996. So what is the moral of the story here? That the Tutsi minority captured total power and now are going to institute a crack addict form of victors justice, and risk inciting the vast majority of the country back to violence. The worst part is that the entire world has ignored the fact that the RPF government has a human rights record nearly as bad as Mugabe's in Zimbabwe. They don't call the RPF Africa's Israel for nothing.
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