Comité Internationale du Croix Rouge

Rwandan children

I neglected to feature the part of the Red Cross museum that was the most moving for me in my previous post. Near the end of the museum, after the historical background in displays and media presentations, they have a number of rooms that illustrate an important contemporary aspect of the Red Cross. For example, one room dimly lit room has the precise dimensions of a prison cell where 18 prisoners where held for months. It's probably slightly smaller than my kitchen. I doubt more than 3 people could ever lie down at once. Now try to figure out how much time that leaves for each to sleep laying down.... Another raises awareness about the horrendous effects of abandoned landmines by exhibiting a number of prothsetic legs for children. Not the most cheery stuff, by any means.

And so I wandered into the next one, entitled "Restoring Family Links" The black and white footage from WWII of an inconsolable Chinese toddler crying, which I had seen at a previous presentation, already put me in a rather subdued mood. Facing the horrid realities of man's inhumanity against man is never an easy thing to do. But a recognition of things as they are is a prerequisite to effectuating any positive change. And aside from that rather vague and obstinately optimistic statement, I am convinced that to see the suffering of others and feel deeply for them somehow makes me a much kinder, thoughtful person.

The only appropriate and immediate reaction for me is to affirm

An explanation of the IRC's effort to reunite families.

Isn't this kid cute?!

Some of the younger ones....

These children are so young that they get to sit in a volunteer's lap. I wonder how I would feel if I were one of those volunteers....

8 more children separated from their families. I love the one in top right corner.

"joy"

A mother and daughter finally together again.

A father reunited with his son. I almost feel like it is sacrilege for me to exploit such a sacred and intensely personal moment. But I feel compelled to share the joy of homecoming, since that is indeed what the Red Cross was able to accomplish through this program.

How many people do you think you saved?

I think it's something between 60,000 and 70,000 people. Ten thousand people were taken care of in our hospital. Hundreds if not thousands of orphans were saved by us or because of our initiative. ...We had a makeshift hospital also in [a town] close to Gitarama, and there were altogether 35,000 people there.... We knew that they took wounded people out of the hospital and killed them. I think hundreds of them were killed, but still it's 35,000, less some hundreds....

In [Gisuma] close to Cyangugu, they took all the Tutsis, brought them to the football stadium and started to kill them. We entered Cyangugu from Zaire with a lot of difficulties; it took us four or five days to be able to cross the border and talk to the local authorities. Most of the killings had already been done, but 9,000 people survived. ...In the north in the region under RPF control, 20,000 displaced persons went back, and they were fed by us. ...I don't know, [in total] I think 60,000 or 70,000.

That you think you've saved?
Yeah. I don't know if this means something, 60,000 or 70,000, after half a million [were killed]. ...But [there were] tens of thousands of people that would have been killed without our presence there, and this helps....

Can you talk about how your experience in Rwanda has affected you?
There's something which definitely has changed in my perception of things. I'm not affected any more by horrors. Horrors are meaningless, nonsense. But beautiful things are miracles.... When you see, just very simple, children playing happily, it's wonderful.... "A thing of beauty is a joy forever." Keats wrote that.... Beauty gives sense to everything....

And even in the horror, you found beauty saving people, or seeing other people help you save people.

Yes, this is our job, to find beauty, create beauty in the very core of horror.
I don't participate anymore in family reunions. Because of war, sometimes you have children separated from their fathers or husband and wife or whatever and sometimes people meet again. We have been able, after the genocide, to reunite thousands of children with their families. And this is to create beauty within the horror.... [But] I cannot go [anymore]. It's too beautiful.


Once you met somebody at a conference in Britain who said that you had saved their life. Do you want to talk about that?

I met this lady in Great Britain in 2001. I didn't recognize her but she recognized me. ...It was emotionally so strong for her and for me to meet again that after two seconds, we started to cry. But it was a cry of happiness of pure happiness. … But it's not very healthy. We should not experience these kind of things. It's just too strong. I will never in my life go back to Rwanda. Not at all because this would remind me of awful things. I don't want to meet again with people we have saved, because it's too strong. It's unbearable. It's too beautiful.

In 1998 a colleague of mine who was just coming back from Rwanda told me, "Philippe, you should know something. I spent six or eight months there, and I've been amazed by the quantity of children whose first name is Gaillard. 'Gaillard Habyarimana,' or whatever." Okay, thank you very much, thank you. [But] I don't want to see these children. It's not necessary.

...When we came back from Rwanda, my wife and I had been married for seven years. We had deliberately had no children. It was so evident for her, for me, that after this experience we both wanted to create life. And it is so beautiful. [My children] will know it, they will discover it, [but] I would never explain to my son that he was a product of a genocide. That's not easy to explain.

Pasted from

My visit to the Red Cross Museum

After my US and East Asia class with Dr. Xiang on Friday morning, I wandered in the general direction of where signs indicated the UN should be. I first saw the World Intellectual Property Organization from afar and mistook it for the UN offices since it was flying the UN flag. I think it is somehow affiliated with the UN, in any case.

I finally did find the UN headquarters in Geneva, but was turned away at the first gate I approached, and later found I could only take a guided tour of the gardens, for 12 CHF. Hmph! I think my ability to freely visit and photograph their gardens has got to be guaranteed somewhere in the universal declaration of the rights of man! (If you want to help me build my case, see Article 24 and Article 27, section 1, for starters.)

The International Committee of the Red Cross headquarters (their website in english ou bien en français) was just across from the UN garden, so I went to their free museum instead.

The red cross and red crescent at the entrance. Prof. Djalili, my Middle East and Central Asian Geopolitics professor, explained in class that the crescent is NOT to Islam what the cross is to Christianity. I imagine it was just the best idea someone came up with at the time when confronted with the dubious nature of the cross for a neutral organization trying to operate among Muslims.

"Everyone is responsible for everyone else, before anything else." --Dostoevsky

A statue commemorating Henry Dunant, recognized as the founder of the Red Cross, as he writes a book about the horrors he witnessed at the battle of Solferino (1859) and calls for a treaty/organization to care for the wounded. The quotation on the wall is from an important passage in his book. Those two words, "les blessés", means "the wounded". For more about him and the creation of the red cross, go here.

Henry Dunant was awarded many medals for his efforts, including the first Nobel Peace Prize.

Autumn Colors

I took a hike up the Saleve on a Friday afternoon and could see my town below. You can barely make out the Geneva skyline in the distance.

To better appreciate my fascination with autumn colors, you have to understand that we have no such explosion of color in Louisiana. Everything just simply goes brown, without the fanfare of flashy colors before falling.

Here's the photo of the red/orange leaf in the grass that I featured previously.

And another of a doorway on the grounds near my school.

A house decked out in Autumn colours, just down the road from my apartment.

A close-up of the red ivy you've seen elsewhere.

Another leaf along the stone wall enclosing an apple orchard, just a ways down from the one featured above.

Here's two colorful trees and some ivy I found just below St. Pierre cathedral.

A sunflower at the restaurant next to my house, with the church steeple behind.

About a week ago, with a rare absence of cloud cover, I was able to see the French Alps in the distance. Here's one more, with the ubiquitous "jet d'eau" in the foreground.

Trip to Bern and Zollikofen

The Aare river meanders through beautiful Bern

View from the bridge of the far bank of the Aare.

Here's a close-up of the church as seen above. Note the Alps in the background.

The temple in Zollikofen.

Trees in the forest behind the temple in Zollikofen (just outside of Bern).

Cathedral St. Pierre

Looking out over Geneva from the bell towers of St. Pierre

About a week earlier, I got this shot of St. Pierre's from the left bank.

Cute kids on their way up to the cathedral.

Looking to the south along the tower turret.

Lac Leman and the jet d'eau.

Close up of the jet d'eau from St. Pierre.

Looking through the walkway arches on the northern tower.

The lighthouse and a sailboat on Lac Leman.

A beautiful tree just below the cathedral.

The flags on one of the main bridges across the Rhone show Genevois pride in their city, country, and the UN.

"Suffer the children to come unto me, for of such is the kingdom of heaven." Stained glass in the chapelle of St. Pierre.

The motto of the Reformers: "Post Tenebras Lux" or, in english: After Darkness, Light.

After my tour, I took this one of the church towers where I had taken a number of the previous pictures.

My address and town

Once upon a time, I lived at
29 Place de l'eglise
1255 Veyrier Switzerland.

{I currently live at 132 rue de Lausanne, 1202 Geneva}

Here you see "l'eglise" or the church that is just across from my place. The bell tower sounds every half hour, without exception, as far as I can tell. I bet that will be nice for study-a-thons to come, so I'll know when to take a break instead of plugging along in neutral gear for hours on end....

The Hotel de Ville (City Hall) is also just down from the church and opposite of it, you have this house.

My "chouette" apartment/tower

Exterior view of my apartment. I enter through the greenhouse. The top window in the center is my study.

The view from my study. You can see "Le Saleve" (the mountain) on the right. Just a bit further up and to the left is my bus stop.



On the bottom floor is my kitchen, complete with mini-oven, fridge, the TV Stephanie lent to me, and my meager stash of food. You can see the first staircase that leads up to my bathroom.

On the 3rd floor is my study.

Now you see the last climb of each day, up to the loft and my bed.

And finally, my loft bedroom with two triangular skylights that help wake me up in the morning.

A Sunday walk

Sunday after church, I enjoyed a brisk walk, the latter part of it in a light rain. In trying to find my way, I asked an older man who was also out for a walk and he kindly led me along the path for 5 or so minutes to get me to the next intersection and make sure I went the right way (Heaven's me! These people are nice!). We spoke of sports we both enjoy, and he laughed and told me to make sure I take advantage of my youth while it's still around. He used to run but has limited himself to walks since he hurt his knee. He commended my efforts as a triathlete and told me of a club I could join.

As we passed the rolling vineyards with their beautiful houses atop the overlooking hills , he spoke of a strong agricultural tradition; an attachment to the earth that persists even today. Why on earth else would anyone keep a farm going when the land (prime property 20 minutes from Geneva) could be sold or built on for many times the meager profit on their harvest of grapes?! Well, I for one am glad that the owners of that land have obstinately held to their farm. I can't be sure, but I like to think it has something to do with an affinity and appreciation for beauty and simplicity. I don't think John Muir was very far from a truth when he said "My father considered a walk in the mountains the equivalent of church-going".

And so it was appropriate that after a rainy retour, the sun finally broke through, and, in cathedral rays, illuminated the mountains just above my quaint home.

From Autumn to Winter

Although not quite on par with the spectacular colors that I got to see on the alpine loop in Utah at the beginning of October, Geneva nonetheless has colorful autumn leaves.

This bright red vine and house caught my eye on a walk downtown.

But winter is certainly on its way. Although the temperatures haven't yet dropped to freezing here in town, the first snows in the Jura mountains have remained. Each morning I hear them calling out to me to come ski.

Swiss Money

Nope, Switzerland is not in the European Union, so we don't have Euros, we have Swiss Francs (Sfr or CHF for short). I think they're pretty cool, so it has been hard for me to part with most of them so quickly. On a happier day I had this many Swiss Franc bills. This is what I got for $1009 USD, at a very reasonable exchange rate.

Here's what a handful of Swiss change looks like.

Geneva's Landmark (er, WATERmark?)

The famous "jet d'eau" which shoots out 500L of water per second at 200km/hr. It is around 140m high (459ft).

A stroll along Geneva's lakefront

After finding my school, and, more importantly, the computer lab with internet access at the library of my school, I took a leisurely stroll along through the gardens that border the lake.

On my way to the lighthouse that overlooks the port of Geneva and offers a great view of the jet d'eau.

The jet d'eau and I.

Here's a close-up of the control station for the jet d'eau.

The jet d'eau with an arc-en-ciel (rainbow).

Looking out from the first bridge across the Rhone to the lighthouse with a sailboat passing by.

My school

The entrance to my school. Just up the road is the World Trade Organization. We use part of their basement for our library and computer lab.

Villa Barton, the home of the Graduate Institute for International Studies. It doesn't seem too big to accomodate 1000+ students, does it? Well, even with classrooms in other buildings, I get the impression that space is pretty limited for our popular little school. But that is fine with me, if the alternative would be to mow over some gardens and throw up an atrocious 60's architectural style (the ugliest decade ever, Frank Lloyd Wright notwithstanding) building, as it so happened at LSU once upon a time.

And just down from my school is Lake Geneva, where I saw this Duck a-swimming. Maybe it is serene scenes such as these that drew the other people I saw out from their stuffy offices in the WTO. Then again, maybe they had nowhere else to eat lunch.

Arriving in Geneva

I mentioned in my first email Davide Alessi, the Swiss guy who looked after me on the flight over.

David is actually a pilot by profession and pointed out a number of things to me as we flew over France. Among them was this river, perhaps the Rhone, which we saw as we made our final approach to Geneva.


The clouded Juras on our approach to Geneva

After months of communication by email, I finally got to meet my superb host counselor, Stephanie Rupp.