A garden in the Virunga hills

Over 10 years ago, when we lived in Rwanda the first time, Rosamond (or Roz) Carr was by far the most prominent American resident in the country. She had arrived there with her British adventurer husband in 1949 and was the last remaining foreign plantation owner.

Roz Carr and her farm, then and now.

Born in 1912 to a wealthy (until the 1929 stock market crash) New Jersey family, she had grown up with “boarding schools, country clubs, and debutante balls”  and was working as a fashion illustrator in Manhattan when she married the much older Kenneth Carr in 1942.  By the end of the decade, their relationship (and their finances) were faltering, and they decided to try farming in the Belgian colonies of Congo and Rwanda in the foothills of the Virunga Mountains.

They first managed a pyrethrum plantation in the eastern Congo. Then, in 1955, her marriage over, Roz bought a 270-acre plantation of her own in Rwanda, called Mugongo. Within view of the Karisimbi, Mikeno, and Nyiragongo volcanoes, she began to create an extensive formal English-style garden.  In 1957, when the price of pyrethrum dropped, she started supplementing her income by selling cut flowers to hotels on Lake Kivu.

The house at Mugongo, covered in creeping fig.

Roz was a woman of great elegance, charm, and determination.  In the 1950s, she enjoyed the social highlife of the region’s Belgian planters, but when colonialism ended and they (and Kenneth) went home, she resolved to remain with the farm, the garden, and the lifestyle she’d created.  She often lived on the edge of  bankruptcy, but always considered Rwanda the right place to be.

In 1967, she began a long friendship with the mountain gorilla researcher, Dian Fossey, who often used Mugongo as a refuge from the hardships of living on the volcanoes.

In 1986, Vanity Fair editor Alex Shoumatoff wrote a long article about Fossey’s murder.  In it, he  described Roz as “glamorous” (she was 74).   Shoumatoff recounted his visit to Mugongo, with its garden  “in spectacular bloom” and the cottage  “cozy . . . with a fireplace, rugs, pillows, a pet gray parrot on a stand, lots of books, old New Yorkers on the table.”  By that time, the market for pyrethrum was so poor that almost all of the plantation had been converted into a flower farm supplying hotels, businesses, and embassies in Kigali.

Roz enjoyed some mild celebrity while advising the makers of the 1988 film Gorillas in the Mist.  She was played by Julie Harris, and her garden played itself.

In the movie, Dian Fossey was as portrayed coming through this gate and meeting Roz for the first time. In reality, they had met twice before.

By the age of 82, she’d had a long eventful life, firmly rooted to a piece of land and a country. Then, in April 1994, it all turned upside down and she had to start again.

The violence of the genocide forced her out of Mugongo and back to the U.S.   Horrified by the killings on her farm, she initially thought that she would never go back to Rwanda. But in August, she received word that her old farm manager had survived. She managed to get on to a U.N. cargo plane and returned home to find everything in ruins.  Seeing the many lost and orphaned children,  she turned the farm into an orphanage for 40 children by the end of the year.  She called  it  Imbabazi, which means “a place where you will receive all the love and care a mother would give.”

One of her few regrets in life had been that she had never had children, but in her autobiography, she wrote,  “I can only surmise that God didn’t feel I was ready to have children until I was 82 years old. Then he sent me forty all at once.”

Imbabazi has cared for more than 400 children since then.

When I would occasionally meet Roz in Kigali in 2000 and 2001, she was always beautifully coiffed and dressed and never looking her 88 years.  With her niece, Ann Howard Halsey, she had written her autobiography, Land of a Thousand Hills, in 1999, and it had expanded her already wide circle of friends and supporters.  When violent insurgencies in 1997 pushed her and the children off the farm, the Heineken-Bralirwa brewery housed them in Gisenyi.  Checks from abroad always came just in time.  Flowers from the garden continued to be sold in Kigali (they are still delivered around town today).

In 2002, she formed the Imbabazi Foundation with an international board of directors to oversee the orphanage’s operations and to insure its continuity.  In 2005,  Roz and the children finally returned to Mugongo.  She died there in 2006, at the age of 94.  She was buried in the garden, and her children planted out the ground around her grave.

Today, about 90 children remain at Imbabazi.  Most are preteens and teenagers, and the Foundation is preparing them for meaningful, independent lives through education and vocational training.  A few have gone to college.

Imbabazi will accept no more children and is considering ways that it can work for the community in the future.  It has a working farm on the property, which produces milk, meat, and vegetables for the children.  It is considering using the house and garden for tourism.  If you go there today, you can tour the garden and take tea (a donation of $20 per person is suggested).

Roz loved watching Intore dancers on this lawn every Sunday, but during the genocide eight people were killed in the garden.

Friday before last, I finally got to see Roz’s celebrated garden.  It is as beautiful as it was always described to me, not only for the long English-style flower borders, but more particularly for the deep planting beds off the formal lawn on the side of the house.  Temperate climate perennials and annuals mix with orchids, calla lilies, tree ferns, and other tropicals.  A number of paths, most paved in lava rock, wind through the thick flora and out to the old fields and the views of the volcanoes.

I have put all my photos into the gallery below.  Click on any thumbnail to scroll through all the enlarged pictures.

You can see an interesting  2004 video interview with Roz  here.   You can also make a (U.S.) tax-deductible donation to Partners in Conservation and indicate that the money should go to Imbabazi.  It is the only privately run group home for children in Rwanda and depends entirely on donations.  See the Imbabazi Foundation website for more information.

ADDENDUM: You can see the garden in May 2014 here.

The sago palms

On Friday, Diana of Elephant’s Eye commented on the age of my cycad. (The plant has a reputation as a slow grower.)

That made me remember some beautiful, rather ancient sago palms that I photographed at Tudor Place in Georgetown this summer. The sago palm is a cycad — Cycas revoluta — native to southern Japan.


Why weren’t our 19th century ancestors thoughtful enough to put away a few sago cycads in the greenhouse for us?

The original Tudor Place sago palm arrived in North America in 1775 on the famous Boston Tea Party ship. There were three sagos on board, and the largest one went to Mount Vernon. Another went to Pratt’s Nursery in Philadelphia, which is where Martha and Thomas Peter purchased it in 1813.

The Tudor Place blog says that the original sago palm is located near the door to the Visitors Center, although I only saw the specimens labeled as its descendants.

The Mount Vernon sago died in 1934. In 1941, a cutting was taken from the Tudor Place plant and given to Mount Vernon, where it grows today.

If you want to start your own little sago palm heirlooms in pots, please be aware that all parts of the plant are extremely toxic to children and pets. Guard it accordingly.

. . . all that predates history survives it.
the sago palm or the bird of paradise flower,
trees that are flowers that are birds.

. . . this high garden
protects the city that protects it.

Alvaro Garcia, “Public Garden” from Para lo que no existe, 1999

Traditional village homes

As a follow up to Monday’s post on the Rwandan palaces, here are two photos of ordinary villagers’ homes from about 1950. I believe they are of the same village north of Lake Kivu near the Congo-Rwanda border.

View of the volcano Nyirangongo in the 1950s, from Guide touristique du voyageur, 1958 edition. (collection Gilbert Delapierre).
Village at the foot of Nyiragongo, about 1950 (collection Pierre Gallez, carte postale).

Photos via flickr here.

Enclosures of the kings

Thanks so much to WordPress.com for including this post on its “Freshly Pressed” page this week! 

Yesterday, we visited the Rukali Palace Museum in the town of Nyanza, a couple of hours south of Kigali.

The opening of the enclosure around the house of the keeper of the king’s milk.

The museum grounds hold a reconstruction of the palace of Mwami (King) Musinga Yuhi V (a few miles from its original location), as well as the actual Western-style palace built for his successor, Mwami Rudahigwa Mutara III, in 1932.

The reconstructed palace is currently undergoing a 5-year refurbishment.

Musinga lived in a palace like this from 1899 until his death in 1931.

An old photograph of the actual court of Mwami Musinga.

Traditional building and weaving techniques were used to make the structures of grass, reed, and bamboo. The work is very fine.

House of the keeper of the king’s milk.
The entrance to the house of the keeper of the king’s beer.
The inside partition is woven in such a way that an inhabitant could see out, but someone outside could not see in.
The ceiling.

A cow pen is part of the reconstruction. Cows were very important in Rwandan royal culture, and each of the king’s cows had a personal poem that was chanted or sung to call it out. They might also be decorated like this one.

A Rwandan cow wearing decoration at the reconstructed palace. Her keeper is chanting her own poem.
The pretty little calves are sleek as seals.

The modern palace (used from 1932 to 1959) is decorated inside and out in geometric motifs. Unfortunately, visitors are not allowed to take pictures inside.

The actual palace of Mwami Rudahigwa Mutara III, who lived here from 1932 until his death in 1959.
The front porch.
Inside, the home contains some original furniture, as well as historical photographs and maps.
Queen Rosalie and the king in the 1950s. The widowed queen was murdered in the 1994 genocide.

The courtyard garden is planted in hedges laid out in patterns like those traditionally used in baskets, mats, and room partitions.

The courtyard garden behind the more modern palace.
Room partitions of the reconstructed palace with traditional geometric patterns.

More about traditional Rwandan homes here.

Victory gardens

I have been looking at vintage garden photos from the online catalog of the Library of Congress. These two — of 1943 victory gardens in northwest and southeast Washington, D.C. — are really charming.

This couple is heading home from their plot with their sailor whites still looking clean and sharp.

“Washington, D.C. Victory garden in the Northwest section,” 1943, by Louise Rosskam. Via Library of Congress Prints and Photographs Division (all photos here).

Below, Mrs. Carr seems to be present for moral support only, or perhaps she will take the next shift with the shovel.

“Washington, D.C. Leslie Edward Carr of the British Purchasing Commission with his wife at their victory garden on Fairlawn Ave., Southeast,” June 1943, by Joseph A. Horne. 

Louise Rosskam, who took the first photo above, was “one of the elusive pioneers of what has been called the golden age of documentary photography.” She took a number of pictures of the same group of northwest D.C. victory gardens in the spring of 1943. (Click on any of the photos to enlarge.)

I believe this is the couple in the first photo above.
Apartment buildings in the background.
Another couple working. I love her high-waisted, wide-leg white pants.
This lady also looks great in black gloves and snood and sunglasses.
The individual plots were outlined with field rocks.
Another gardener heading home by the same fence opening.
Buying victory garden supplies.

All the photos above (except that of the Carrs) are by Louise Rosskam, via the Prints and Photographs Division of the Library of Congress.

I believe these garden plots were in the neighborhood of Glover Park, where we have a house. According to the Glover Park Citizens Association, it established the first World War II victory garden in the city, at 42nd and Tunlaw Road. It still exists today as a community garden. (Alternatively, they may be of the Tilden victory gardens at Connecticut Avenue and Tilden Street, which Rosskam also photographed.)

This is a link to a short film made in the forties about how to prepare, plant, and harvest a 1/4 acre victory garden. It features a rural northern Maryland family and is an interesting look at home gardening advice and practices of the time.