Rwandese Flowers_ 1 to 6

for sale. They exposed several items at ground level on extended towels, and thus, I noticed that
hygiene was not substantial. At any rate, however, I was there to know the place and not to carry out
a sanitary inspection. Rose bargained with the sellers to get the prices down, arguing loudly in a
strange Kinyarwanda, and because of this, I did not understand a lick of their speaking. Anyway, she
appeared to be a tough buyer, since I had never seen anyone take so long to buy five kilos of
potatoes. When she finally got the product at the lowest cost possible, and we were again on the
boundary of the fair, a tumult with its stress and panic came toward us from inside the market. Two
Hutus shouted in pursuit of a Pygmy, who jumped into the arms of Tharcisse, coming to us, trying to
escape. The chasers approached, drew him aside and started beating the luckless chap with intensity
while people around did not matter at all, and even Rose stood impassive, checking if every potato
were in a purse that the Twa tipped over. The little man took a rude thrashing and he would not
survive for long that way. Immediately, the scene reminded me of the unfortunate girl who was
suffering in a hospital bed as a victim of a wicked coward from the kind of those troglodytes in front
of me. Taken by these emotions, my heart burned and I took the potatoes from Rose's bag to hurl
them against the nearest evildoer, who was punishing the Twa. As a bad result, one of the Hutus
came, raised his open hand and smote me on the forehead, and I ended up on the floor about three
meters away, falling on an old, wooden tent that toppled over producing a loud crash of breaking
clay pots. The Hutu thought he had knocked me out and made a slip, just when I furiously jumped
on his back, hitting him from behind with a high kick to his head, making him collapse right away.
Rose was astonished without knowing what to do, seeing her job and project of life circling the drain
while something tragic approached me in that mess. Although she cried out my name, I got right into
the thick of a widespread brawl. Intruders joined the dispute supporting one side over the other or
both at the same time, and all of a sudden, the riot turned into a settling of accounts between Hutus
and Tutsis, getting more violent as pieces of stalls were flying everywhere. People were using sticks,
stones and all sorts of blunt objects as weapons, and it was already possible to see some drops of
blood splattered on the floor. Tharcisse Mugabe stood in front of me holding a terrifying wooden bat
with a sharp nail at the tip, threatening whoever tried to attack me. The other Twa fought madly and
hurt other men with up to double his size. Rose, on the other hand, screamed, begging me to get out
of the mess, but she could not appease me. I would not easily leave that fight, since my self-control
was gone. I have always been an impulsive girl, and my parents since my teenage years had given up
on controlling my restless mood. Moreover, I had been an athlete when I was younger, training and
competing in athletic events. I practiced martial arts for medical advice, discharging my adrenaline
continuously high, and I liked adventure sports, such as mountaineering and parachuting. In short, I
was a tough girl who was accustomed to withstanding hits in wrestling tournaments for the US
Olympic Team, and thus, I did not get out of the middle of the action. Even if I did not defeat a
young man, at least, I could hurt him for real. Then, I kicked people all the way, taking and landing
punches, elbows, and knee jabs. They could not injure another Pygmy and came out just fine because
although I did not see the man who did the dirty work of raping the indigent Twa, at least, those
ones I would get. Easily, I saw the image of the girl's attacker in each malevolent creature who tried
to hurt the Pygmy in front of me. Only later, when the dust settled, and the blood cooled, I reasoned
that I ran a serious risk.
The Hutu gendarmes showed up and vigorously held back the brutes and things quieted
down. Various merchants had losses, since smart looters took the chance to plunder the fair,
dragging the products for sale on open ground as they could. Sensible people called the gendarmerie
to appease us, and when the police officers came to break up the fight, they did not understand why
an American doctor was involved in the incident. Since the guards feared to hold me under arrest
without authorization, they radioed the base of operations, and as instructed, surrendered all those
who participated in the event. The troopers put us on knees, with our hands on the head, detaining
nine people at gunpoint. On her side, Rose stayed out of the tumult without the courage to strike a
single blow. Yet she did not leave me alone. Curious Rwandans were watching the scene, and when
reporters of the Television Libre des Milles Collines or Radio Mille Collines arrived, the site became more
agitated. Despite this jaunty name, it was not a television network, but a radio station. They started