This was an interview done conudcted by sending a number of questions to Carl Wilkens. Below are the questions and his answers.

Question 1: On the first day of the genocide, what were you thinking, feeling; how did it affect those around you?

Carl Wilkens: Well, the first thing is we didn't know it was a genocide, which a lot of people just simply assume as we look at history. We knew there were terrible things happening, but we didn't know how terrible they were going to get. You would be referring to the first day, probably would be April 7, when our neighbors were being killed around us. We heard those sounds, we heard the gunfire, of course, the night before. And so, we're thinking, obviously, first thing, for our kids safety but then for our neighbors. I was talking on the radio to different points around the country, and started getting information from orphanage in the east, hospital in the west, university in the north-west about the killing that was happening there. So we were shocked at how widespread it was, and how fast it was moving. And, in terms of affecting, you know, those around us... well immediately with our home we had two young people who'd been working for us and their ID cards said Tutsi, and so they were definitely at risk right from the get-go. And then of course, our neighbors, you know, as I mentioned earlier, we heard this screaming and shouting, and I think probably one of the most significant things that happened the night of the of the first day of the genocide, without a doubt, was our neighbors coming out of the security of their homes when the militia came to our gate unbeknownst and they were intent to come in, loot our house at minimum, who knew what they would do, worst case scenario, to my wife and our children, but our neighbors came and stood and they were armed, not with weapons, they didn't have guns, but our neighbors came and stood between our home and the militias... and the only thing they were armed with were stories, simple stories about how our kids played with their kids -- little acts of kindness were just huge during that time - and so the response of my neighbors is just incredible. And, you know, I think that's largely due to our kids building a relationship. For the four years we lived there already, they were building this relationship with our neighbors. And relationship is the wildcard in genocide, relationship is really what I keep coming back to again and again.

Question 2:Why did you decide to stay?

Carl Wilkens: First off, that was the decision that both my wife and I made together; it wasn't a decision that I made and tried to convince her of. And one of the key things that was driving us, were the two people that were in our home; one was a young lady, the two people whose ID cards said Tutsi. One young lady had worked in our home for three years, was very close to us, very wonderful, gentle person, good with the kids, and the relationship we had with her...we couldn't imagine leaving her just to be slaughtered. [We] didn't know if we could keep her alive or not, but we knew that we had to try. And another huge factor here is we came to Africa with a sense of mission, a calling, a purpose and if there was ever a time where we could help, now was definitely a time...so had my wife not been with me on this decision, had we not been together on this, I don't know what the decision would've been. We didn't know how long it was going to be either. Fortunately, also, my dad was in country, and so Dad was able to drive the family out; Theresa could be with the kids helping them feel safe and secure in the back of this little camper I had built on the back of our pickup truck. And so, there were several factors that made it possible, but I'm sure the key factor was this relationship with this young lady and this young man, who were caught at our home when the killing began, and this sense that we really could, hoping that we really could, make a difference.

Question 3: Can you describe some of what you experienced there?

Carl Wilkens: Yea...boy, let's see. The first three weeks I couldn't get out of my hose. The only ones on the streets were those who were doing the killing. And, finally, after three weeks, the government said anyone that has a legitimate reason to be out should come to headquarters and get a laissez-passer, permission to move around the city, and that's when I went and met the Colonel, another incredibly important relationship I was able to form during this time. Colonel, who was in charge of the city, his name was Renzaho, and he's been tried since in Tansania, rusho crimes, genocide, war crimes, but he put me in touch with several orphanages that needed her. I said, "Colonel, I'm in the country, the BBC's reporting that all the aid organizations have left except the Red Cross, I want you to know I'm still here with Adra, don't have much, but I wanna do what I can." And so that's when my work started with three different orphanages: two he put me in touch with, one Gasimbo orphanage in Yami Rambo that started out with eighty orphans, I think, before the genocide, and soon grew to over three hundred orphans during the course of the genocide. And then there was Marc Vader, a Frenchman who stayed-didn't evacuate like the other foreigners-in just a regular home with, I dunno, twelve or fifteen orphan kids somehow connected to AIDS, HIV positive or something, and I did my best to bring food, water, medicine to these groups of orphans. The third one was just down the road from my house, just three houses down, another home with thirty little ones who were five and under there; and so I would spend much of my time trying to locate a vehicle to haul water with, or containers to haul water with, or places to get water, those who had looted and to find powdered milk or other food to take to the orphans and of course moving through the city was very time consuming, just barrier after barrier, threats and anger and violence...And so that's kinda a summary of what some of the things were like during that time.

Question 4: What happened to you, being the only American there?

Carl Wilkens: I don't know that being the only American there was a significant thing for me. There were times at the beginning of the genocide I thought being an American was kind of advantageous-I actually ripped an American flag out of my daughter's history book and taped it on the back window, and then later on, it looked like it was disadvantageous, and so I ripped the flag out of the window, the little paper picture. But, you know, I don't really think being the only American, I mean, definitely being a foreigner stuck out and sometimes I think that was advantageous; there was still a certain amount of respect, I think, extended towards me, as was the custom in Rwanda, treating foreigners with so much respect. But then at times, too, I really stood out and I was threatened and there were, you know, threats about being taken hostage and kidnapped and, you know. So, kinda, definitely mixed, mixed bag there.

Question 5: What was it like to work with Adra?

Carl Wilkens: I thoroughly enjoyed working with Adra. Very rewarding work, you know, we were building schools and operating health centers, just very practical things. When the war started, we were working within the camps, and one of the little projects was making kinda like clay ring cooking stoves in the camps; if the people would dig up, find, locate where the good kind of clay was and they'd dig it up and make a little clay ring around the their three stones that they sat their pot on, and convert it into, like a little cooking stove, then we'd supply them with the cooking kit, or we'd bring a load of bamboo into the camp, and the people would strip them down and make privacy mats for the Doctors Without Borders Clinic outpost, or for latrines or things like that. So working with Adra was really rewarding work, I thoroughly enjoyed it.

Question 6: Did you know that the U.N. was pulling most of its forces out? If so, what was you reaction?

Carl Wilkens: Yea, I did. They, in fact, one of the officers, a colonel from Belgium, came to my house; he had probably refused to leave a couple times already, I'm sure he found a more diplomatic a way to that to refuse. But, yea, I was aware. He also came by to evacuate me, there were several attempts. And I really appreciated the U.N.'s...the men on the ground, their spirit, their courage-it was incredible. It was a huge tragedy when they pulled out. There was a sense of, without a doubt, everybody leaving and wondering what would happen. And I talked with MamaPapaZero, the humanitarian branch of the U.N., several times a week during the genocide. And I was really grateful for that small group that stayed on, what they were able to do.

Question 7: When you arrived back in Rwanda in '95, how did it feel to be back?

Carl Wilkens: You know, when I try to think back to those days, I can't...I didn't do much writing after the genocide or talking about that time after the genocide, so the memories are really hazy. I mean, it was very good to be back, obviously. Seeing some of the rebuilding that was happening, but it's like we dove right back in...it was definitely a beehive of activity. I know before I left, all the foreigners were coming in, the troops and everything, so when I got back it was...it was, still, of course, abuzz with activity, but I was really glad to be back. Actually, when I went back, I was working more directly with the Adventist Church, as their field secretary, and the church leadership had been devastated, and so I was helping fill that vacuum at the time, when I came back. And I was wonderful with the family, and the kids that evacuation wasn't the last chapter for them, but we were able to spend another year and a half there in Rwanda, in the rebuilding process.

Question 8: Looking back, how do you feel the experience changed you?

Carl Wilkens: You know, that's so many different ways. I think one of the biggest things, though, is this emphasis on relationships. I was very much kinda what they called a brick-and-mortar guy, building, I was all about building, and seeing things done with your own hands. During the genocide, I saw how relationships were so key. The things you built were destroyed, but the relationships, although they didn't always hold, they were definitely something that had potential for lasting, and making a difference. And so, I think, I look at life through more a lot more of a relational pair of glasses now. I often cite this saying, it used to be, "Seeing is believing." Now I'm more inclined to say, "I see what I believe."And so, that's why, I think its really important, and I'm constantly examining my beliefs on different things, and as different experiences come and challenge those beliefs, finding a safe person, a safe community to discuss your beliefs with about so many different things is just huge. Taking the time to do that is just huge.

Question 9: After the Holocaust, everyone was saying "Never again."And yet, still, genocides happen, and most just watch, do nothing. What do you think is the reason for that?

Carl Wilkens: You know, a lot of times, people simply say people don't care. I...I don't agree with that. I believe that people care. I think there are two reasons we don't often see that care, though, in times like this. One is our cares are hugely diverted by many other things and we stop and we think and we're like, "Wow, the urgent really has robbed the important."So being able to identify what's diverting our care and our attention and out compassion and our passion. And the other thing, two, is for the people to be informed, and not just simply given the news but they need to hear personal stories of others who have been through this. To be informed, just simply told the facts, to say the numbers, that's not really informing, it's stories that help us to connect people and it's those stories that we so desperately need to be able to understand what happened, and what we can do to stop it.

Question 10: Why did you make World Outside My Shoes?

Carl Wilkens: My wife and I formed World Outside My Shoes, just for the purpose of telling the stories. It's starting, of course, with us telling our stories about what happened and hoping that as people hear the stories and see the pictures, learn about those who were there, those who resisted genocide, some of those who we lost, as they learn some of those stories, that they will then be encouraged, inspired to act. You know, this...the telling of stories is one of the most important, most powerful tools, most powerful weapons we have. A gun never ends a fight, a war never really ends...any kind of conflict. I mean, temporarily, you'll see, but there are these long standing hatreds, pains and loss and grief we have to deal with, and stories are one of the most powerful ways I think we can deal with that. So, hopefully, in the future, World Outside My Shoes will grow to include other people's stories and the sharing of those stories to really do...to really...uh... that can really, hopefully, bring an end to all of those tragedies and not only internationally, hopefully those stories will affect the way we see people in our own neighbor hood, around our own location, and help us re-examine the way we view the "other."Who is the "other" you know? And this exclusive thinking that tries to get the other out so that I can have things my way. And to make this trip from me to we. You know, it's a great book, some young fellas up there I n Canada have written Me to We. To really understand that that journey starts right here at home. But it doesn't mean that we have to wait till we got it straight at home before we can make a difference overseas. I think we can do those things simultaneously. So thanks for your project and the opportunity to share and look forward to our paths cross again another time.