why rwanda?

I began to be intrigued when a team of totally normal people that I know announced that they'd be going on a discovery trip in the summer of 08 to Rwanda in order to figure out if our church could be involved in assisting the church in Rwanda. To find out more about Rwandans and read amazing stories of survival, check out this link.
I wasn't one of those brave people, but I wanted to pray for them, because prayer is work anyone can do, any time, anywhere, and it is one way God gets things done (according to 11 Corinthians 1:11). One way I have found to keep a specific prayer in the front of my mind is to wear a reminder of it on my wrist. God told His community in the Old Testament to use this trick to keep His law front and center (see it in Deuteronomy 6:8). The bracelet I made to wear while my friends were in Rwanda was very primitive and had their initials. Six people: six letters, separated by purple and silver beads. At different points during the day, if my eyes fell on the bracelet, I'd just pray for who ever's initial was facing up at me. God used these prayers to grab my heart for what he is doing in Rwanda. He is funny like that.
When the second Peace team went this past February, I had been reading about the genocide in 1994, and beginning to understand the history of this amazing country. Where it is, what it's like, and how the ones who survived - did that. Left to Tell, by Immacule Ilibagiza was the first book I read about the actual events of April 1994. What has continually assaulted my mind every time I learn more about the genocide is that it happened during my adult life as I was raising babies and watching the OJ trial on TV - and I never even noticed.
So, why Rwanda? This is a quote from the amazing book I'm reading now, We Wish To Inform You That Tomorrow You Will Be Killed With Your Families, by Philip Gourevitch. During a conversation this New York Times journalist had with a Rwandan, this is how he described his life: "The Rwandans live in the hills. The people are living separately together. So there is responsibility. I cry, you cry. You cry, I cry. We all come running, and the one that stays quiet, the one that stays home, must explain. Is he in league with the criminals? Is he a coward? And what would he expect when he cries? This is simple. This is normal. This is community."
That, in a nutshell, is why.