Wednesday night I traded in my bed bug ridden foam mattress for a spring form king size wonderful piece of heaven!
Tuesday was Christine’s birthday and she has a friend who is a former employee of Serena Hotels in Tanzania. Serena is the “Mmmm, where do you summer?” type of hotel that UN staffers and multinational business stay and rich expats workout. Think Fairmont moves from the Rockies to the savannah. Now, the Milles Collines is the hotel to be at if you’re in Kigali. I still haven’t been there for a drink around the pool. I should. It is Hotel Rwanda, after all. But it’s been under construction for a while now and….Christine doesn’t have a friend who works here. So, her friend offered her a room for her birthday and since Tuesday didn’t work out, we travelled and stayed Wednesday. What a way to spend mid-week! She grabbed the bus in her village. There was another muzungu on the bus – Kai from Switzerland – who was coming from Tanzania. He thought he was alone from the border and then, in his words, “the bus stopped and a muzungu got on and I thought ‘what the f**k? We’re in the middle of nowhere!’ ” I joined them in Kibungo (which is less in the middle of nowhere and more in the middle of somewhere very, very happening) and we had a good chat on the way up.
When we arrived were treated to pineapple/tree tomatoes juice upon arrival. Took the glass elevator to the fourth floor and just as Charlie must have felt at Willie Wonka’s factory, we walked in silent amazement. Save for the Oompa Loompas and chocolate rivers, I may as well have won the golden ticket. Got up to the room and inspected every corner of it. Yup, the water is hot…and runs clear. Yup, the toilet flushes, every time. The box on the dresser shows a picture and makes noises when you press the power button. The lights turn on and don’t flicker. Sitting on the bed, my sandal fell off and I. Put. My. Bare. Foot. On. The. Carpet. OH MY GOD!! That was the most luxurious feeling. Okay….no time to waste. We have exactly 18 hours here. That’s it. Make it count.
Into our swimsuits and complementary bathrobes. Down to the pool. By Rwandan standards it’s a cold day and it looks like it’s about to rain but we don’t care. We jump in and splash around for a good thirty minutes. Then into the “hot” tub, which wasn’t working but it was warm and again….we didn’t care. We then walked back to the lounge chairs and…get this…our feet stayed clean!! Actually, I think our feet were clean the entire time we were there. After a tea we went into the sauna, and then steam room, and then sauna, and then steam room…..Finally we decided to head up and get ready for dinner. We decided we were not leaving the hotel until they damn well up and kicked us out!
We put mud masks on our faces that I’d been saving since my parents sent them a month ago. I’m so glad I’d saved it for then. I was glad, that is, until the knock on the door. We stared at each other….mud masks and all. We didn’t answer. We sat there. Then the person started to come in. Okay….so I answered the door (Christine hid behind!) and a woman was there saying “Would you like a turn down?” I politely declined for two reasons. 1) She probably thought we were crazy muzungus with REALLY white skin and 2) I don’t know what a turn down is. Turn down the sheets? Maybe? Thanks but I have two working arms. I could probably manage. We got dressed and Kai – who had to stay at crappy St. Paul’s ha ha ha – joined us. Food was so great….meat in veggies sort of like Mongolie Grill style. Dessert. I HAD THREE DIFFERENT DESSERTS. Ha ha!!!!!! After dinner we crawled into the most comfortable bed in the world. Okay, that was after I figured out how to actually get the pillows out of the maze of sheets. Now I’m thinking that a “turn down” would have been useful. The woman is probably laughing to herself this very moment as she’s helping another equally able bodied person on the 3rd floor. Sometime around 3am , I woke up warm and wanted to throw off the sheets and realized that they were too tightly tucked into the bed frame. Cursing, I thought I’d trade the glorious carpet for a bloody “turn down.”
Morning came too soon. That bed was too comfortable. I was liking this! Down for a buffet breakfast and, truthfully, that did me in. I looked at all the food. I stared at the fruit. Literally stared. And what did I do? Grabbed a banana and a slice of pineapple. This, friends, I the ONLY fruit I can get in Kibungo and this was my first choice. It was safe. I knew this. What were these other things? The fruit table wasn’t so bad but then I hit up the breads table. There were 18 different types of muffins, 12 breads and a few types of croissant. What? The pit in my stomach grew and grew. I didn’t know what to do. Where was the brick shaped, bread-looking loaf from “Good Loaf” in Kayonza? Not here? Okay. A piece of raisin bread will do, but I’m not happy about it. In all seriousness, this was the first bout of reverse culture shock I’d experienced since being here and it’s only been three months. Still, I avoided the bread table for the rest of the morning.
Finally checked out at 10:59 (and not a minute sooner) and back to reality:
- to the doctor to get anti-itch something to deal with my 100 bites on my legs and feet
- to Nakumatt to get spray to kill anything smaller than a thumb nail
- To the bus park to buy a ticket on a flea ridden mini-van to Kibungo
- Kenny and Dolly playing half way to Kibungo
- Wind in my hair, until the rain started and the driver kept his window half way down. Then it was rain in my hair, on my shirt, on my bag….
- Man sitting behind me poking into my back
- Get to my house: wash sheets, put out blanket and mattress in the sun, spray bed, Julie arrives, she helps (in fact, even thought it’s not here day to work, insists that I just sit and watch! No…)
- Cook a Sidekicks from Aunt Peggy on the kerosene stove – Homestyle Macaroni and Cheese. Add tomatoes and tuna for protein. Give some to my guard. Practice my Kinyarwanda with him. I point to the tomatoes and say “inyanya.” He replies “Yego.” (yes) I point to the pasta because I don’t know the word for it. “Kinyarwanda?” I say. Waiting for a word that inevitably begins with “u” or “i”, he responds “Ah! Macaroni!”
Of course he does. What else would it be called?
Pictures to follow soon....
Notice my lack of effort put into this blog lately. Is it that nothing’s happening? No, not really. Life is just going on as usual. Where did I leave you? I believe it was Wednesday with the fixing of the stove. What has happened since? Well, this was intended to be short but as we know, I ramble. Pictures coming soon. My battery died during the weekend.....
Thursday December 3, 2009
Still in disbelief that it is December, I made my way to Kabare 1 School where Suzanne works. VSO had dropped off a huge pile of rice sacks. WE use these to make visuals for schools – staff rooms and classrooms. They are more durable in the weather and much more cost efficient than paper. I watched part of Jason’s workshop and was really impressed. We are both trying to stress to teachers that it is more important to teach at the students level than race ahead in the curriculum, finish, but with no real learning having occurred. I think he’s getting through to these teachers and it’s wonderful. I head back home with the bundle under my arm, plop them down and head back to the office for some work.
Friday December 4
I wake up more or less early and try to be ready to get the 8am bus to Kigali. No such luck. My coffee was just too good. So I wander down a half hour later, buy a ticket for the 8:45am bus and then pop in to get some water and samosas from Consolee for the journey. The bus is not full and I pop in my headphones listen to my “Great Canadian Music” playlist as I watch the scenery pass by me. At Kabarondo I look out to see if I can see the volcanoes toward the DRC. Jason had sent me a message saying he just passed and they were visible. But by the time I get there it’s just mist and haze. I arrive in Kigali and get off near the Tanzanian Embassy. I walk down, pick up my passport that has my Tanzanian visa. Walk back up the hill and ago into VSO. I need to sort out an under expenditure for my workshops, get reimbursed and meet with the country director. Nothing gets accomplished very fast there, generally, and today there is an employer workshop to boot. But I’m out in just under 2 hours so I can’t complain. I head in to Bourbon where I can use the internet for free while I eat lunch. I spend the 2 ½ hours there booking for our trip to Zanzibar. Not that I wanted to spend that long but the server forgot to put in my order. I’m disappointed because everything on the island appears to be booked for New Year’s so we’ll be in Stone Town longer than we had wanted. Oh well. I head to St. Paul’s to check in and then – after a short rest and an episode of How I Met Your Mother – head back to UTC to meet Ulysses for dinner. Ulysses is a Canadian that I met one day taking a taxi in town. He’s doing his masters in Sweden in International Health at the moment and is here for another month. We decide to take motos to a place that is his suggestion. It’s called the Car Wash. It used to be an actual car wash and began serving food while people waited. It’s pretty local and what it lacks in muzungus it makes up for in piles of goat meat. I’m beginning to prefer the taste of goat over beef anyway. We have a great meal and talk over a few beers until we realize that it’s getting cold. We turn in late and plan on meeting tomorrow for Christine’s birthday
Saturday December 5
Back to Bourbon (I have a hard time staying away) to enjoy good coffee for the morning. Check my email and then head up to Amani Guesthouse where Karen and Christine and I will stay for the night. Diane, who works there and has become our friend, has given us the apartment for the cost of a double room. I check in and wish her a happy birthday. She’ll meet us for dinner too. I relax for a while before heading back downtown to buy a gift and party hats. I do head to Blue’s Café where I’ll meet Christine for lunch and run into other volunteers. Isn’t it always the way? After lunch, Christine and I pop into Dmitri and Ariane’s house for a short visit with their kids. We’ll see Dmitri and Ariane that night as he and Christine share the same birthday. It’ll be a hat-trick of birthdays, in a way – Christine, Dmitri and Diane. Head back to Amani to shower in the warm water! and get ready to go out. I even put on new earings from my mom and …. make up!! We go to a place called New Cactus and there are about 13 of us in total. Only 5 VSO volunteers and the rest are made up of Ulysses, Dmitri and Ariane, and Diane and her family. It’s nice to mix with people who don’t know the ins and outs of VSO. Julie, who is a volunteer, made it after a trip back home for a successful job interview. We had a great meal complete with Tiramisu birthday cakes and candles. Of course, we had to explain the notion of blowing out the candles to Diane, who forgot it was her birthday until we invited her out for Christine’s! After dinner we out for a few drinks and I headed back to the guesthouse with Diane feeling happy for a great meal and great friends!
Sunday December 6
Woke up after a great sleep and sat with a cold mocha special, reading my book, until the others woke up. I headed down early to meet Sarah for lunch. She had just been to Rulindo for another birthday party but was traumatized by the number of spiders there. I remember Ana (from Rulindo) telling me this a while ago and I sympathized telling Sarah that I kill spiders all the time. To this she responded that she’s reluctant to kill spiders for fear of coming back as one in her next life. I said I thought this would be great because you could torment people. She explained that it would be too difficult to manage all those legs and eyes and that 2 legs and 2 eyes are bad enough. It would be exhausting to manage eight! I laughed and told her to write a blog….Sitting in Simba before my bus was utterly delightful because I decided to not bother with shopping or internet to keep my stress level down. My one thing to do that day was lunch with Sarah – and didn’t she feel special for being my one things? – and I caught the bus with Christine at 2pm. Home by four to organize, each yogurt and bread for dinner and settle in to my own bed.
Monday December 7, 2009
In the office I’m less than productive because the internet is working (I think I’m an addict) and so I check the news, email a few people about a mobile library idea that I have, look for songs and games for ESL learners but generally don’t do the things I need to do. So, I head home to work. Along the way I am invited to a card game with the motorcycle mechanics (no bikes to fix I guess). They are playing with an old faded deck that depicts Leo and Kate in Titanic. They are playing in Kinyarwanda and give me a hand to play. I think I’ve got the rules figured out….and just when I think this, I realize I have no idea how to play. I’m just putting cards down and the funny thing is, I’m winning. I don’t know how but they find it hilarious and encourage me to stay. I need to get home, I try and explain, to do some work. Which I do and am so productive! I have music on my laptop (not quite blaring as I don’t have speakers for it) but listen to a CD Aimey sent me and I feel like I’m listening to Vibe. I type up a Curriculum document for my workshops next week, a Global Partnerships “How To” guide for teachers and create rice sacks for the workshop. Before I know it, it’s 4:30 and I’ve manage to get most done what I needed to. I decide, while it’s light out, to organize the big armoire in the living room and don’t even start cooking dinner until it’s dark.
Yes, these are pictures of recent things going on. I’m lazy. I don’t feel like writing a lot. I thought I’d taken pictures of everything but realize that so much goes no here that I neglect to write about. I did not, for example, take pictures of my body that is covered in bed bug bites from the hotel that we “splurged” on. I have not taken pictures of my infected eye. I did not take pictures of the 50 million plantains that Christine’s domestic bought in lieu of a variety. I forgot to take pictures of my actual training. I didn’t take pictures of a burn on my arm from my keronsene stove that looks a little like tape worm and so I’m watching it carefully. I have to say that the reason I’m not up for writing is because of what happened last night.
After a long, tiring but successful workshop in Rukira we arrived in Kibungo and one hour to get to the back, dump our stuff at my house and catch a bus. We barely made it but of course, it was made better by Consolee’s smiling face at the Alimentation. We hopped on the bus, stopped at Nyakarambi to check on Dorothy’s house and as the sun was setting hopped on motos and sped down the valley toward Tanzania. It was absolutely beautiful (see about). We arrived in Christine’s village while the sun was just tucking behind the hills and the sky was getting dark, save for the almost full moon. As we got of the motos and negotiated times for them to pick us up tomorrow (which they never did) a crowd gathered around – as they usually do – to see the muzungus. Mothers with babies, children and toddlers always gather. The children have large grins and are too shy to say anything. They are just itching to shake your hand. When I’m in the mood (I usually am) I’ll bed down and say “miriwe” (good afternoon) or “muraho” (hello) and shake the little ones’ hands. Last night a little toddler held out her hand with a big grin and I gave it a little shake and a big smile. She was thrilled and turned to run away immediately after. This always happens! But this time, as the little baby (she might have been two) was running away, across the street, a motorcycle came out of nowhere. It hit her and she fell forward and rolled on the ground. Immediately, everything stopped. Everyone rushed towards her. She was screaming. Mothers (not sure which was the child’s real mother) began to try and inspect her head. I held a light and got water to rinse the cut but I felt utterly useless. I couldn’t help by feel totally responsible. Deep down, I know I’m not but still….I know the motorcycle should not have been going this fast in the village during dusk, but still…. The adults around seemed not too concerned because the child was barely bleeding, but still…..I think the worse part of the whole incident is that as much as I’m bothered by it, I think I took it in stride like I have everything in Rwanda. I didn’t really react a tonne. This is what I’ve been thinking about the most. Now, a day later, I am thinking about it much more than I did at the actual moment. Am I becoming desensitized to life here? What would my reaction have been in Canada? Thinking about it this much means I’m not totally desensitized to how hard life is here. So that’s that. I’m not really up for writing much.
