It is my last night in Kigali. I’m in a bar. Before I ask a man sitting next to me if he is Hutu or Tutsi, before he is too drunk, he asks questions about me, about my life in Vancouver.
“What work do you do?” he asks.
I tell him, “I am a writer and musician.”
Jojo, 21, Student/Waitress
“It is cold there in Canada?”
“Most of Canada, but in Vancouver it rains more than it snows.”
“You are married?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“It’s not as customary as it is here to be married.”
“You have been through war there.”
“No.”
“Never?”
“Never.”
Later, the karate chopping begins. The blows to my head and neck are light, meant not to injure but to demonstrate the preferred method of killing Tutsis, by machete. I am both annoyed that he is so persistent and saddened that he is in pain.
Either way, I need him to stop. I block one of his downward chops, then take his hand in mine and hold it. This makes me uncomfortable but it is all I can think to do in the moment.
“I’m sorry.” I tell him. “My family and I have not been through what you have. I hope we never will.” We sit for a moment holding hands. I hang my head, shake it. “I don’t understand,” I admit. “Forgive me.”
The man nods, lets go of my hand, gets up, and leaves the bar. 
Read Abbie Mood’s interview with entrepreneur, Alissa Ruxin, who, in Kigali, opened Heaven Rwanda: A Restaurant with a (Social) Mission.