I don't sleep in Rwanda. I lie in a dark pregnant silence, my neck sore and throbbing from the long journey to "a hill away from Congo". The first quake felt like a huge boulder had rolled down the hill and hit the wall behind my bed. I curled into a ball under my sheets--knees to chest and eyes wide. This was not my first earthquake, but fear confused me nonetheless. Is it safer outside? Should I stand in the bathroom doorway? Is this the place I die in? What the hell is the name of this place!? The second quake rocked my bed like a child's cradle. There was no sound but a steady creaking. I uncurled my body on the bed and breathed deeply to concentrate. My eyes were fixed through the wall as I thought hard. Two more quakes. I still hadn't moved. And finally it came to me with a flush of relief so strong I actually yelled "YES" with excitement--if I die here, at least I will remember I died in a town called Huye. Petite Earthquake , Rwanda 2015
I don't sleep in Rwanda. I lie in a dark pregnant silence, my neck sore and throbbing from the long journey to "a hill away from Congo". The first quake felt like a huge boulder had rolled down the hill and hit the wall behind my bed. I curled into a ball under my sheets--knees to chest and eyes wide. This was not my first earthquake, but fear confused me nonetheless. Is it safer outside? Should I stand in the bathroom doorway? Is this the place I die in? What the hell is the name of this place!? The second quake rocked my bed like a child's cradle. There was no sound but a steady creaking. I uncurled my body on the bed and breathed deeply to concentrate. My eyes were fixed through the wall as I thought hard. Two more quakes. I still hadn't moved. And finally it came to me with a flush of relief so strong I actually yelled "YES" with excitement--if I die here, at least I will remember I died in a town called Huye. 
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)