I hesitated having some as I remembered:
- I remembered what I have read about the genocide and what I am currently reading now in Dallaire
- I remembered the history, the pictures, the very graphic video clips that I saw at the museum
- I remembered what I was doing in May 1994 – I was struggling with the joys and challenges of being a new mother, including breast feeding. I remembered because one of the survivors described seeing a baby, just a couple of months old, feeding itself on its mother’s breast. She, the mother, was already dead.
I chose something else, not the fruit salad.
Hadn't meant to write this as I am still 'processing' but the strawberries really shook me up this morning. Just that splash of colour.
I hope that those who read this won’t misunderstand my reflections on being here. I guess this is my way of dealing with what happened then now. My own way of understanding - though I am not sure if I can or ever will.
I also think I need to say that my reflections are in no way influenced by the 'moods' or 'feelings' encountered while here. In fact