War and what comes after | Clemantine Wamariya

譯者: Lilian Chiu 審譯者: Yanyan Hong

Words matter.

字詞是很重要的。

They can heal

它們能治癒，

and they can kill ...

它們也能殺戮……

yet, they have a limit.

然而，它們也有極限。

When I was in eighth grade,

我讀八年級的時候，

my teacher gave me a vocabulary sheet

我的老師給我一張字彙表，

with the word "genocide."

上面有「種族滅絕」這個詞。

I hated it.

我很恨它。

The word genocide is clinical ...

種族滅絕這個詞是無情的……

overgeneral ...

過度概推的……

bloodless ...

殘酷冷血的……

dehumanizing.

毫無人性化可言的。

No word

沒有字詞

can describe

能夠描述

what this does to a nation.

它對一個國家做了什麼。

You need to know,

你們要知道，

in this kind of war,

在這種戰爭中，

husbands kills wives,

丈夫會殺死妻子，

wives kill husbands,

妻子會殺死丈夫，

neighbors and friends kill each other.

鄰居和朋友殺害彼此。

Someone

某個

in power

有權的人

says,

說：

"Those over there ...

「那邊的那些人……

they don't belong.

他們不屬於這裡。

They're not human."

他們不是人。」

And people believe it.

而大家就相信了。

I don't want words

我不想要用任何詞

to describe this kind of behavior.

來描述這種行為。

I want words to stop it.

我想要用字詞來阻止它的發生。

But where are the words to stop this?

但能用來阻止它的語言在哪裡？

And how do we find the words?

我們要如何找到那些字詞？

But I believe, truly, we have to keep trying.

但我真心相信， 我們得要持續嘗試。

I was born in Kigali, Rwanda.

我出生於盧安達的基加利。

I felt loved by my entire family

我感受到我全家人的愛，

and my neighbors.

及我鄰居對我的愛。

I was constantly being teased by everybody,

我常常被每個人戲弄，

especially my two older siblings.

特別是兩位比我年長的手足。

When I lost my front tooth,

當我的門牙掉下來時，

my brother looked at me and said,

我哥哥看著我，說：

"Oh, it has happened to you, too?

「喔，你也遇到這狀況了？

It will never grow back."

它永遠不會長回來。」

(Laughter)

（笑聲）

I enjoyed playing everywhere,

我很享受到處玩耍，

especially my mother's garden and my neighbor's.

特別是去我媽媽的花園 和鄰居的花園裡玩。

I loved my kindergarten.

我很愛我的幼稚園。

We sang songs,

我們會唱歌，

we played everywhere

我們到處玩耍，

and ate lunch.

吃午餐。

I had a childhood

我擁有的童年，

that I would wish for anyone.

是我希望大家都能擁有的。

But when I was six,

但當我六歲時，

the adults in my family began to speak in whispers

我家中的成人們開始竊竊私語，

and shushed me any time that I asked a question.

當我問問題時就叫我安靜。

One night,

有天晚上，

my mom and dad came.

我媽媽和爸爸來了。

They had this strange look when they woke us.

他們叫醒我們時，表情很奇怪。

They sent my older sister Claire and I to our grandparent's,

他們把我姐姐克萊兒和我 送到我們的祖父母家，

hoping whatever was happening would blow away.

希望不論發生什麼事都會煙消雲散。

Soon we had to escape from there, too.

很快我們也得逃離那裡。

We hid,

我們躲藏，

we crawled,

我們匍匐，

we sometimes ran.

有時我們快跑。

Sometimes I heard laughter

有時，我聽見笑聲，

and then screaming and crying

接著是尖叫聲和哭聲，

and then noise that I had never heard.

接著是我從來沒有聽過的噪音。

You see,

是這樣的，

I did not know

我當時不知道

what those noises were.

那些噪音是什麼。

They were neither human --

它們不是人類的聲音──

and also at the same time, they were human.

但同時，它們又是人類的聲音。

I saw people who were not breathing.

我看到沒有呼吸的人，

I thought they were asleep.

我以為他們在沉睡。

I still didn't understand what death was,

我當時並不了解死亡是什麼，

or killing in itself.

或者殺戮是什麼。

When we would stop to rest for a little bit

當我們停下來休息一下，

or search for food,

或是尋找食物時，

I would close my eyes,

我會閉上我的眼睛，

hoping when I opened them,

希望當我睜開眼睛時，

I would be awake.

我會醒來。

I had no idea which direction was home.

我不知道哪個方向才是家。

Days were for hiding

白天要躲藏，

and night for walking.

晚上才能行走。

You go from a person who's away from home

你會從一個遠離家的人，

to a person with no home.

變成一個沒有家的人。

The place that is supposed to want you

應該要接納你的那個地方，

has pushed you out,

把你趕出來，

and no one takes you in.

沒有人肯收留你。

You are unwanted

沒有人

by anyone.

想要你。

You are a refugee.

你是個難民。

From age six to 12,

從六歲到十二歲，

I lived in seven different countries,

我住過七個不同的國家，

moving from one refugee camp to another,

從一個難民營搬到另一個，

hoping we would be wanted.

希望會有人要我們。

My older sister Claire,

我姐姐克萊兒，

she became a young mother ...

她成了年輕的母親……

and a master at getting things done.

以及是個能把各種事物都搞定的大師。

When I was 12,

我十二歲時，

I came to America with Claire and her family on refugee status.

我和克萊兒及她的家人 以難民的身份來到美國。

And that's only the beginning,

那只是開端，

because even though I was 12 years old,

因為，即使我當時十二歲，

sometimes I felt like three years old

有時我感覺自己才三歲，

and sometimes 50 years old.

有時卻是五十歲。

My past receded,

我的過去變淡了，

grew jumbled,

變混亂了，

distorted.

變扭曲了。

Everything was too much

一切都難以承受，

and nothing.

卻又微不足道。

Time seemed like pages torn out of a book

時間就像是從書上撕下來的頁面，

and scattered everywhere.

散在各處。

This still happens to me standing right here.

就連我現在站在這裡， 都還有這種感覺。

After I got to America,

在我到了美國之後，

Claire and I did not talk about our past.

克萊兒和我避而不談我們的過去。

In 2006,

2006 年，

after 12 years

我與我的家人

being separated away from my family,

分離了十二年，

and then seven years knowing that they were dead

知道他們已經死亡了七年，

and them thinking that we were dead,

他們也以為我死了，

we reunited ...

終於，我們重聚了……

in the most dramatic, American way possible.

以最戲劇性的美式方法重聚了。

Live,

電視

on television --

實況轉播──

(Laughter)

（笑聲）

on "The Oprah Show."

在《歐普拉秀》上。

(Laughter)

（笑聲）

(Applause)

（掌聲）

I told you, I told you.

我說過了，我說過了。

(Laughter)

（笑聲）

But after the show,

但在節目之後，

as I spent time with my mom and dad

當我花時間和我爸媽、

and my little sister

妹妹，還有

and my two new siblings that I never met,

兩個我沒見過的手足相處，

I felt anger.

我感到憤怒。

I felt every deep pain in me.

我感到內在所有深刻的痛苦。

And I know that there is absolutely nothing,

我知道絕對沒有可能，

nothing,

沒有可能，

that could restore the time we lost with each other

可以彌補我們本來 應該給彼此的時間，

and the relationship we could've had.

以及本來可以擁有的關係。

Soon, my parents moved to the United States,

沒多久，我父母搬到美國，

but like Claire,

但就像克萊兒，

they don't talk about our past.

他們也不談我們的過去。

They live in never-ending present.

他們活在永無止境的現在。

Not asking too many questions,

不問太多問題，

not allowing themselves to feel --

不允許他們自己去感受──

moving in small steps.

以小步伐移動。

None of us, of course, can make sense of what happened to us.

當然，我們都無法將 發生在我們身上的事真正化解。

Though my family is alive --

雖然我的家人還活著──

yes, we were broken,

是的，我們是破碎的，

and yes, we are numb

是的，我們是麻木的，

and we were silenced by our own experience.

而且我們因為所經歷的事而沈默。

It's not just my family.

不只有我的家人如此。

Rwanda is not the only country

並不只有在盧安達

where people have turned on each other

大家才會攻擊彼此，

and murdered each other.

謀殺彼此。

The entire human race,

所有人類，

in many ways,

在許多層面上，

is like my family.

就和我的家人一樣。

Not dead;

沒有死；

yes, broken, numb and silenced by the violence of the world

是的，因為世界的暴力 而破碎、麻木，及沉默。

that has taken over.

那暴力佔據了一切。

You see,

你們知道嗎，

the chaos of the violence continues inside

暴力的混亂持續著，

in the words we use

就在我們使用的字詞中，

and the stories we create every single day.

以及我們每天創造的故事中。

But also on the labels that we impose on ourselves

但也在我們貼在彼此身上的

and each other.

標籤裏。

Once we call someone "other,"

一旦我們稱某人是「其他人」、

"less than,"

「處於劣勢」、

"one of them"

「他們的一員」，

or "better than,"

或「處於優勢」，

believe me ...

相信我……

under the right condition,

在合適的條件下，

it's a short path to more destruction.

它就是通往更多毀滅的捷徑。

More chaos

更多的混亂，

and more noise

和更多的喧囂

that we will not understand.

就這樣無法理解地發生了。

Words will never be enough

字詞永遠不足以

to quantify and qualify the many magnitudes

量化、質化許多程度重大

of human-caused destruction.

人類所造成的毀滅。

In order for us

為了讓我們能夠

to stop the violence that goes on in the world,

阻止世界上不斷發生的暴力，

I hope --

我希望──

at least I beg you --

至少我懇求各位──

to pause.

暫停下來。

Let's ask ourselves:

讓我們問問自己：

Who are we without words?

沒有了字詞，我們是誰？

Who are we without labels?

沒有了標籤，我們是誰？

Who are we in our breath?

在我們呼吸裏，我們是誰？

Who are we in our heartbeat?

在我們心跳時，我們又是誰？

(Applause)

（掌聲）