Saying goodbye in Kibungo

And so the farewells begin….

Aimey and I arrived back in Kibungo last Wednesday and isn’t it funny how a place that was once so foreign, so new and so scary, can feel at home so quickly. Even Aimey felt that as we were admiring the new Banque Populaire sign, or the Tigo building painted purple or…holy smack!...is that a brand new petrol station that looks like it belongs in Canada? But Kibungo has been my home for the last year and I love this little town.

We arrived and noticed that every tree along the road in Ngoma District had been painted white and, as we later found out, this was to honour President Kagame when he came for a visit last week. As you know there was a General Election last week and Mr. Kagame secured 93% of the vote. (The election, by the way, gave us mzungus a constant source of amusement given that in Rwanda the sound “l” and “r” are often interchangeable and so the “big election” of 2010 usually left us roaring with laughter…..) Of course, because this blog continues to be non-partisan, I won’t comment on the election itself and suggest you go BBC, the Globe and Mail, or the like for more in-depth analysis of Kagames successful bid at the presidency. Patrick was at the bus park when we arrived and greeted us with a huge smile, as always. When we arrived at my house were greeted by one of the best parts about living here – no electricity. Argh! But we went to the market and a few hours later it came back on. (Since then the power has been dodgy and the water has been on and off – mostly off – every day. Oh the joys!)

Friday I turned around and had an exit interview with VSO and luck would have it, met Jeremy who was returning from the UK and had a taxi ready to take us back to the big K. It was good to see him, all refreshed and ready for another few months. Of course, a welcome to Kibungo would not have been complete without Beer and Brochette at Moderne that night and Jason, who returned from his holidays also, joined us too. So, there we were. The Eastern Peeps enjoying the last meal at one of my favourite watering holes.

Saturday I spent packing and organizing. What to bring? What to give? What to leave for the new volunteers who will occupy the house in September. I’ve taken art off my walls, and the wall of family and friend pictures is also down. Slowly, the house that has felt like home, is becoming just another house. I’m seeing it, again, through the eyes that I did when I arrived. As someone who moved around A LOT as a kid, it’s a family feeling. One that bring trepidation and excitement. Saturday night I had a bit of a farewell at, you guessed it, St. Joseph’s. The standbys were there: Jeremy and Jason, as well as Suzanne (the very first Kibungoan I met and the person who has helped me survive living here), Anna and Rebecca (two other mzungus who live down the road), Fabien (my big boss), Geoffry (an old friend of Epi and Tina’s who is maybe the nicest and least pushy 24 year old in this town), some guy who came with Fabien but I don’t know his name, Rehma (who I met through Christine) and, of course Consollee (who came with a gift of banana leave flip flops which I’d been thinking about buying myself since arriving). We had drinks of Fanta and beer, bananas, potatoes, chips and brochette and sat around dicephering Kinyarwanda (Why do “old” and “crazy” sound so similar?) and walked home dropping people off at their homes along the way. I may say that I could live the rest of my life without seeing another banana or brochette but in truth, I’ll miss those nights and these people.

So, now I pack up and we head to Kigali tomorrow. As things hit me, I’m sure I’ll write a last entry sort of think about what it’s like to be VSO volunteer, what Rwanda has been like as a home and how I’ve felt about the whole process. As Aimey said, on our last evening walk through Kibungo, I spent so long thinking about coming and there was such a build up about coming to Africa. And now it’s over. For now, at least. And I will write a debrief about everything but until then, I think I’ll just enjoy another cup of Rwandan coffee as I listen to the sounds of a Sunday morning in Kibungo.

Consolee and I

Jeremy explaining his theory of excellent female head teachers in presence of two of the best: Suzanne and Mediatrice

At St. Joseph's

The two Kibungo Anna's. We didn't get to spend a lot of time together but Anna was always up for a drink or a game of Jenga!

The gang's all here: from Jason (muzungu in the middle) clockwise: Jason, Rehma, some guy, Fabien Geoffry, me, Suzanne, Jeremy and Consolee. Patrick, Jean Paul and Elie weren't able to make it.

Team Kibungo!

Banana sandals

This afternoon we went for a last visit to see Patrick and his family and what-do-ya-know...Patrick's name isn't even Patrick! What the??? I somehow got from him that that's the name of his area and the name he uses for work. His name is Dominique! Seriously! Patrick doesn't even show up on his ID card. But he's Patrick to me and always will be. We enjoyed a, you guessed it, Fanta (okay, I had water but you know how it is) and he proudly showed us his television, DVD player and newly installed electricity that he says he was able to buy because of the work he did with me. So, am never one to give money to people - EVER - but me being here has helped him. In honesty, though, he earned it..... muddy roads, rain storms, police, pot holes, locked motorcycle helmets and goats. He definitely earned it.

Even Patrick got into the election spirit

One last good bye.

Photos: Coming back to Kibungo

Coming back to Kibungo after travelling felt a bit like home. Here are a few highlights....

So, after having returned from dusty, dirty busses in East Africa and having said my farewell to Julie, we realized that we were short on clean clothes. So, I thought I'd give my hand at doing something I haven't had to do since arriving here (if you don't count the time I had bed bugs....). I washed my clothes, Rwandan Style! I must say, I think I did a good job by have a new appreciation for Julie and my washing machine at home!

Painted trees that welcomed Paul Kagame a few days earlier

Across the street and just before the "rond point" (round-about) that leads to Kibungo town

The new gas station officially opened while we were away

Arriving home to no electricity but, like it always does, it came back on just in time for the sun to go down!

East Africa and coming home to Rwanda

As Anna and Aimey’s African Adventure draws to a close, and Anna’s Suitcase begins to pack up all her worldly treasures, I thought I give a summary of the last few days bumping along the roads of East Africa. We left off and I was lamenting the loss of Aimey’s camera and about 300 great pictures. We left Mombasa at night, catching the legendary Nairobi-Mombasa train. We secured our berth and made our way to the dining car for dinner. The food was great, the cockroach joining us, not so much. Met a nice Irish guy and an arrogant Canadian-born, Kenyan-raised, British-educated man who was travelling to Nairobi to meet with a lawyer to take care of business. Sketchy. We were lulled to sleep by the clickity-clack of the rail cars as they travelled through Kenya and I was securely tucked into the upper bunk with what looks like a seatbelt/crib for my safety.

We arrived in Nairobi (which is nicknamed Nairobbery) without being mugged and so thought that, given the law of averages, we would have nothing stolen. We were right! Nairobi, though our visit was short, was a pleasant treat of capitalism and bustle. We spent the afternoon taking local (and very slow) busses out to the suburb of Karen to visit the Kazuri Jewelry factory. I first fell inlove with Kazuri in the Nairobi airport and have been dreaming about it ever since. I suppose I could have just bought something in an overpriced shop in the city, but there’s something about going out to where the sweat is poured into these little, beautiful clay beads. Kazuri was founded in the seventies by a British woman as a company to employ – and give health care – to single mothers. There are over 300 employees now and they make the most beautiful jewelry. We had a lovely tour and then spent too much time humming and haaaing over what to buy, and for whom, in their shop. In the end, I came away with a few beautiful pieces that you will all envy when I get home! That night we met Alan, a former VSO volunteer and fellow blogger, as well as a random girl that Aimey met in a coffee shop and we headed out to Haandi for Indian food. My mouth still waters when I think of the meal.

So from Nairobi to Kampala we splurged an extra $10 to take the “royal class” coach for a short 13 hour (or so) journey. Plush seats and even a breakfast of eggs and samosas! Of course, we were not even out of the city when we were stopped by a horrific traffic accident that had us waiting for over an hour just to pass a semi-trailer and the wreckage of what one could assume was once a taxi. Hours and hours later – after passing countless tea plantations – we crossed the Ugandan border and were shortly thereafter dropped off at an intersection leading to Jinga, the place from which we were going to raft down the Nile River. We knew that the taxi ride to the hotel would be about 15,000 from Jinja but had no idea how to actually get to the town of Jinja itself. Hmm…. Thankfully a handful of competitive boda-boda (motorcycle) drivers approached us and, unlike Rwanda, had no helmets. Given that it was night, given that it was the highway, given that we had a big packs, we opted to not take the risk and tried – unsuccessfully – to get a taxi. Thankfully, one of the boda-boda drivers, who did not take our lack of patronage personally, offered to call us one but that taxi seemed to be taking forever. Eventually, another car pulled up and Aimey asked if he was a taxi and would he take us into town. He was there to pick up a friend but offered us a lift while he was waiting. As it turned out, he wasn’t a taxi driver but just a random, and Aimey and I found ourselves hitchhiking by accident once again. Michael, who is also a teacher, offered to find us a proper taxi when we got to Jinja and even negotiated a good rate for us. Of course, to negotiate this rate he told us to stay in the car so the driver didn’t see that it was two mzungus – a sure way to have to pay more! Eventually we made it out to the Backpackers Campsite, were given a safari tent full of spiders to sleep in (no nets) and enjoy a beer, a meal and a card game. We were also treated to a video of that day’s rafting trip, and if I wasn’t nervous before about rafting down a Class 5 river, I was now! Praying that our boat wouldn’t flip the next day, and praying that the spiders were also sleeping and not wanting to crawl all over my face in the middle of the night, I drifted off to sleep with the sound of the Nile River just below.

So…rafting the Nile? Imagine the MindBender Rollercoaster at West Ed. Now imagine a washing machine. Now imagine that you are on the rollercoaster INSIDE a FREAKING washing machine. That’s sort of what it feels like to be on the Nile. But with Jamie our guide – who ‘btw’ was AWESOME – we made it through most rapids in one piece. Of course, I felt like a bit of an All Star after our first rapid when all of our gang were tossed outside of the boat except me and Jamie. “Bring it on Nile,” I said all tough-like.

Until the second rapid.

That’s when our boat hit a wave and flipped ass over tea kettle, landing on some of us, including Jamie. However…we all made it back in the boat and managed to get through the rest of the rapids relatively unscathed. It was the most fun that I’ve had being tossed around in raging white water. Thanks Jamie!

After Jinja we chilled and shopped for souvenirs in Kampala. Crazy, hectic, congested Kampala. Security was everywhere and we were searched going into our hotel, a restaurant and the post office. Since the bombings, I guess they aren’t taking chances. Fair enough. Things were good and fun and after getting our bus ticket to Kigali, hopped on a boda-boda which are fun and slow and crowed (three on a bike…really?). Of course, pulling up to our hotel the truck that was backing up didn’t see us….or in reality, did see us but refused to stop. Aimey bailed off the back of the bike before getting hit and the driver and I banged furiously on the door of the truck to get his attention – something I’ve been dying to do since arriving! For our last meal we managed to hit up a great little restaurant for dinner AND get a boda-boda driver that spoke Kinyarwanda! I felt at home!!!

Finally….after three great weeks and so many wonderful experiences, we were on a bus bound for Kigali. Crossing the border did feel like home and it was refreshing to drive on the right, hear Kinyarwanda, see no garbage and no houses painted advertising corporations. Of course, the tell tale signs we were coming to Rwanda were listening to Kenny Rogers on the bus and having our packs searched at the border for plastic bags. We arrived at the bus park and were thrilled when, after we declined a taxi, the driver actually listened and walked away!! No hassle in Rwanda. I love it here. I felt at home. Now it’s time to pack up and enjoy a last Rwandan inzoga – which, incidentally, means “beer” in Kinyarwanda but “dead animal” in Swahili. Go figure.

Rafting the Nile and Kampala

Rafting with Nile River Explorers was fantastic. So much fun and, thankfully, no crocodiles.

Our campsite

Okay. No problem. Face your challenges head on.

Being agitated like a pair of jeans in a washing machine. Notice Jamie with blue helmet? Aimey is just to her right about to hit the water.

Oh crap. Where did Aimey go?

Two survivors! Whoo hoo!

Jamie and I on a rescue mission. Aimey was on the other side just coming up from under the raft.

So, things were all well and good and the team recovered nicely until rapid number two and....well....you get the picture:

Believe it or not, this was taken after being tossed around the Nile, during a lunch break on the river. (Notice dude in the middle: was hungover and spent the trip forgetting to paddle insync or hitting Aimey with his paddle.)

Enjoying a beer on the Nile

And over in Kampala...we stayed at a great hotel called Aponye.

This was the street our hotel was on. Amazing that a boda-boda could fit through, let alone a car.

Photos: Mombasa to Nairobi

A few pictures from Mombasa and the journey to Nairobi

Mombasa wall

Potato chips fresh from the kettle

Platform at Mombasa train station

Waiting for the train and being entertained by a busker

Breakfast in the dining car

And in Nairobi...

Kazuri's mission statement

Moulds for coffee cups

Before they are fired

What? We can buy Kazuri in Canada?? Where?!?! Tell me more!

The end result

So much choice. So little time.

Oh, but I chose.

What's a gazillion minus about 322?

So I was all "we have so many pictures" in my last entry. I think I said that I had about a gazillion or so. That'll learn me..... Oh....and why is Snoopy drowning his sorrows in a glass CabSav?

We arrived in Mombasa happy that we'd outwitted the scam artists in Arusha (No, we will not pay an extra 10,000 for our bags on the bus...no, it's not the law....no, nor will give out 1,000 for tea....). We were thankful when Aimey left her purse at the restaurant it was still there and the taxi drivers in Mombasa were charging fair prices. We were thrilled when some women on the street treated us to masala mangos. We were extra thankful when - unknown to us - Aimey's camera dropped out of her pocket, onto the floor of the bus, picked up by some men who promptly got off the bus but who were noticed by some women on the bus, shouted at (in Swahili so we didn't know what was happening) and then our camera was brought back to us. Aimey swiftly put the camera away in my pack and five minutes later we were getting out at our stop we were thankful for some men to help us out of the matatu (think minivan with 18 people crammed in) with our bags. I'm so used to trusting helpful people here (can't spend my time here suspicious of everyone) that when they were helping, I thought they were just helping.

And then we realized later that night that the camera was gone. Argh.....

Of course we racked our brains but realized that they got about 300 photos and a few videos of the A-Team Travel adventure pilot show that we're shooting..... The good safari photos and us making the top of Kili on on my camera but Aimey's log of Snoopy in Africa is gone. So, SnoopDog had a big glass of red wine while we were sitting on the beach in Tiwi, Kenya over the last few days and he's feeling much better about the whole thing. Sadly, I'm still a bit annoyed that 11months here and I have lost so much as a pound, let alone a camera. It's tainted my view a bit. But just a bit. For every scammer or theif there are 100 honest and caring people that just want to help. I just need to remind myself of that every now and then.

So...to the beach!!! We spent one night in Diani before making our way to a piece of paradise on the Indian Ocean. Margaret and Joseph run the Twiga lodge and after a bumpy taxi ride down the dirt road to get there (the road is known for muggings and we weren't chancing it) we arrived to white sands and palm trees! We're back in Mombasa a little burnt and a little hungover (why do screw top wine bottles have to be so easy to open?) but relaxed and not about to let a missing camera get in the way of a great trip. But seriously, buddy, what are you going to do with a bunch of pictures of Snoopy at Kilimanjaro, Snoopy with the hipps, Snoopy drinking a Primus? Honestly.....

Still in Mombasa at Fort Jesus.

Pick up soccer game in front.

Aimey tries coconut juice for the first time

Now my turn...the girls here recommended the masala mango and for a mango-hater like me (what is up with the aftertaste?), these were pretty good. Even better because when I went to pay the women had already paid for me - what a treat!

After a dismal night at Diani Classic Guest house (NOT recommended) we caught a bus to Tiwi where Margaret was awaiting our arrival. We'd book the budget double room (no sea view, no breakfast, no hot water and, by the looks of it, no new coat of paint since the early 60s) and quickly changed to the superiour room for a wad more cash but look at the view! Well worth it!

Seriously...this was a piece of paradise and only a handful of tourists to speak of.

After getting over his hang over and depression, Snoopy went for a dip in the ocean.

Twiga Lodge has a bar and restaurant but we decided to bring our own wine. Food was good, atmostphere, great. Would recommend to anyone.