The Wake

Hacking flesh, a dense and labored sound. A machete is raised into the air. Silhouetted in the light, the blade is coated with blood, hair and tiny pieces of flesh baked on from hours in the hot African sun. As it comes whipping down there is a shrill cry. The blade penetrates perhaps below the shoulder, wedging itself so deep that it requires a quick jerk to release it. Rarely does the machete do the job on the first blow. Again the knife is raised and lowered, but this time it hits bone, like nails along a chalkboard. It is almost finished. One more strike to the back of the head and the girl is gone. Was she six, seven, or maybe nine? It is hard to tell in her severed state. What was her crime to deserve such a death? Theft, murder? No, she was a Tutsi and died at the hands of the Hutu rebels during the 1994 uprising in Rwanda. She had no crime. She was a nameless victim like nearly one million others who died during the genocide.

”Hotel Rwanda” is an emotional knot that tightens throughout the film. The setting is Kigali, Rwanda, a place of peace but extreme racial tension. “Hutu Power!” goes the chant. Paul Rusesabagina (Don Cheadle), manager of an expensive resort hotel in the city, does not let politics get in the way of his business. A Hutu, Paul is married to Titiana (Sophie Okonedo), a Tutsi and has two children. Paul and his family and friends are not concerned with the Tutsi and Hutu history, but there are those around them who are.

The tensions between the Tutsis and the Hutus go back to colonial times when Belgium ruled the country. The Belgians favored the Tutsis because of their lighter skin and smaller noses, the film says. But when the Belgians left the country they gave the power to the Hutus. This is where the central conflict and genocide began.

Throughout the course of the film tensions rise to extreme violence and refugees flee to Paul’s hotel. Foreigners, all white, get visas and are escorted by the U.N. to an airfield. As the bus pulls away Paul stands with the African refugees in the hard rain in front of the hotel, staring at the departing tourists who take pictures. It is clear that Paul must protect his family, which has grown to nearly 1,200.

The rest of the film focuses on the Paul’s responsibilities: keeping everyone safe and fed, the constant struggle between keeping his immediate family alive, and his greater obligation to his friends and guests. Paul is a talented dealmaker, and manages to save those in the hotel again and again.

The notion of family and what it is, is prevalent in the film. Paul cares for a family 300 times the size of his own. He simply does not allow them to die or fend for themselves. Through amazing strength he leads them through the hell around them.

Racism is also thrust to the forefront of the film. Black and white, Hutu and Tutsi. The color of one’s skin and the nearly unnoticed genocide of one million are closely linked. The United States, the United Nations, and all of Europe fail miserably at stopping the killings. It’s not that the killings were not heinous enough, but no one gave a damn about the victims. The white tourists were out and safe and suddenly anything else became “just too dangerous.”

At the end, the knot comes undone, an emotional dam breaking. Relief, sadness, anger, confusion, joy are all worked into the tears. Breathe. Genocide. Say the word aloud so those around hear it. Know it. Understand it even when others are not willing to say it. That little girl is dead, her body gone. She was a victim of genocide. Never let her be forgotten.

Conrad Wilson is the contributing editor for The Wake and welcomes comments at .