Dedicated to Pam & in memory of Janice

Realised I have not written another blog post since 22^nd August – this must show how busy I’ve been. So busy that I can’t remember what I’ve done – either that or old ageis catching-up with me. In Rwandan terms, I am, sadly, an old man or “Muzehe” as they sometimes refer to me – this is, apparently, a respectful term for an old person.

I have to admit it is quite hard to keep up a blog. I did say to a very good friend of mine, Pam, that I worried that people would find it all rather boring but she very kindly responded saying “your blog is NOT boring at all. It makes incredible reading, you are living such an alien life to what we all know.” So Pam, this blog post in specially dedicated to you.

The Old Man or "Muzehe"

So, what have I been doing? As I’ve said before, and apologies for repeating myself, my days and weeks here are very varied and recently I found myself at the ‘official’ opening of the Diocese Clinic and the next day on Nkombo Island giving out 30 goats!

Recently the Clinic, just one of the projects here including the guest house, a farm and schools run by the Diocese, went into partnership with the Government of Rwanda and is now a Health Centre able to provide a wide range of medical services to the community here.  Sadly, it comes with an agreement that the Diocese must build a maternity unit by the end of the year and have 20 trained staff in place before the government provide any funding which will not be until next summer so some financially, challenging months ahead!

The opening couldn’t be an opening without the customary speeches, followed by the customary Fantas – here, you cannot have speeches without Fantas or Fantas without speeches. Rwandans do love their speeches and also their introductions, so everyone has to be introduced, stand up and wave to everyone and maybe say something. Then the speeches, all in Kinyarwandan with someone translating bits into English for me, and they are often long and many – I think we had three hours of speeches before the Fantas appeared. I can’t help but compare it to what we do in the UK where we would say “right, we only have 30 minutes so let’s keep it short”. Unfortunately, the Rwandans don’t do short – apologies to my Rwandan friends who may read this as I am giving observations, not criticisms!

Speeches over, Fantas drunk & now the photos

The following day, in complete contrast to the formality of the clinic opening, I found myself on Nkombo Island - I’ve discovered if you Google ‘Nkombo Island’ my blog comes up about fifth in the list. Nkombo is the second largest island on Lake Kivu, with a population as at August 2013 of 17,000 although I suspect, at the rate they have babies here, the population has doubled since then. 80% of the islanders depend on fishing and the government have focused a lot of attention on this impoverished island with electricity, plans to connect a water pipeline and a domestic and public hygiene campaign.

My purpose of going was to give out goats. Through a donation, given to me by some students in Germany (thanks to Veronika and friends) the Diocese bought 30 female goats, to give to 30 people at a cost of around £30.00 per goat – not sure if there is any significance in the number of 30’s. Each person receives training to look after the goat that provides manure for their plot of land, where they cultivate and grow crops and foods and the idea is that the first female goat produced is given back to the Diocese to give to another person/family. The idea is to encourage them to take responsibility for their goat so others will benefit and also they develop a sense of giving rather than taking. With more goats that are produced (a goat can produce twice in a year and can give birth to two kids), they can then sell to get income so maybe they can get around £100.00 per year for as long as the goat can produce.

Emmanuel, PGH Manager, came with me and he kindly donated some money to buy a male goat, who we are going to call Emmanuel, and I am sure he will have a great time getting to know the female goats. So, Nkombo Island could be over-run by hundreds of goats in the next few years!

Dancing in celebration of  getting a goat

When we arrived, we met all the recipients in the church where we had introductions, singing, dancing and speeches (yes, those again but only short ones!). Then the goats arrived - bought in Kamembe and then taken, by foot, 11kms to where they were put on a boat and taken across to Nkombo – sadly, I missed seeing this as would have been great fun to see them get all the goats on and off a boat not to mention getting the life-jackets on them!

The goats are coming!

Taken to the back of the church, each goat had a number stuck onto its back with some paper and tape. Rounding them up took some time and then the recipients come, also with numbers, to claim their goat. Photographs, more singing and then the goats were taken home – hopefully, not to be eaten!

"Come in goat number 4 - your time is up!"

It was great to see something like this in action. The goats and their owners will be monitored to see how they are getting on and I will look in on them from time to time as I visit Nkombo.

Everyone paired up with their goat

"Why are the goats getting all the attention?"

I couldn’t be a Muzungu without talking about the weather.  We should now be well and truly into the heavy rain season now but we having days of very hot and sunny weather followed by storms and heavy rains in the evening.  Some wonderful sunsets as yet another sunset picture below shows. Fortunately, crops seem to be growing and after the rains people are busy on the land and the dusty brown landscape of the dry season is turning back into the lush and green vegetation that makes Rwanda look so beautiful.

My lush & green garden after a night of heavy rains

One of those wonderful Cyangugu sunsets

Life at the guesthouse continues to have its challenges. Whilst I love working with the staff they do, at times, test my patience and after a four day break, last week, in Kigali I was only back five minutes and to hear from Emmanuel what had been going on to find one of my heads coming on! Actually, I often think I must have two heads by the way people here in Kamembe still look at me as if I have come from outer space – I would have thought, by now, they know what a Muzungu looks like.  It felt strangely good to be in Kigali and getting no one staring at me.

So, Christmas just around the corner and whilst there is no sight and sound of it here until Christmas Eve I guess back home the cards are in the shop and the countdown has begun.  I am looking forward to coming home for Christmas for a couple of weeks although it is going to be strange to feel that coldness that you just don’t get here – I rarely have to wear a pullover so the thought of coming back and wearing heavy jackets, gloves and scarves will be quite a novelty.

Then its back in the New Year for what could be my last four months.  My two-year ‘mission’ comes to an end in May, as I keep saying to Bishop Nathan and my thoughts are turning to what happens after that.

I’m looking forward to having some friends from Southover Church in November and from Blakeney Church in January as well as other friends and visitors. We are all still mourning the loss of Janice Balfour who came here to teach earlier this year, had to return to the UK after about a week as she was ill to find out she had cancer and very sadly died shortly afterwards. Janice had been to Rwanda a couple of times, had lived in Kigali back in the 80’s and was a wonderful, kind, caring person and she is greatly missed.

Lovely Janice - Rwanda 2011

People here, also sadly, have to deal with losses of friends and family. They die without warning, often with no sign of illness or knowing what the cause was and then, often, the day later they are buried.  Remarkably, Maria who I been visiting and who is dying from AIDS is still alive – her life is no more than lying all day in bed but she always greets me with a wonderful smile and keeps in contact with the outside world through her mobile phone.  So often, the way the Rwandans use their phones here drive me mad – constant ringing and answering in middle of conversations, in meetings and not to mention shouting on them all the way on the bus to/from Kigali (sorry my Rwandan friends but this is a criticism not an observation!) but I can see, for Maria, what a blessing her phone is.  She knows everything that is going on at the guesthouse (more than I do) and she blesses me greatly when I go to see her and puts all my problems and challenges into perspective.

The mother with the sick baby that was, finally, diagnosed with water on the brain continues to care for him at home but is getting support from the church and I hope to go and visit her soon.

Recently, I had to say a good-bye to Isaie my house-helper who has gone to join a Tearfund community service programme for two months. He will be part of small team of one other Rwandan young man and four girls from the UK (he is very happy!) and is working in Muhanga, a large town about an hour from Kigali.  Isaie is really a ‘boy from the village’ so I hope this two-month experience, that I encouraged him to apply for, will help him grow in confidence and open up opportunities for other things he can do with his life rather than wash my socks! (Isaie, if you are reading this I know you do much more than this and you are greatly appreciated and missed).

Isaie saying goodbye to his Mum, brother and niece

But saying a ‘goodbye’ to Isaie, I am saying ‘hello’ to a Rwandan family of five, from Kigali, who are coming to live with me. It was going to be only three – Jonas (who is working at the guesthouse), his wife Marguerite and their two year old daughter Gaele but then I found out that Clementine, his wife’s sister, also has to come as she looks after Gaele and then, shortly after, I discovered that Marguerite is having a baby any time now.  And, if Isaie decides to come back, which I suspect he will, then there will be seven of us – fortunately, the house is big enough and I have the house next door, where I used to live or the guesthouse to escape to, if the new baby screams the house down.  I am looking forward to it, really I am!

So, my life in Rwanda continues. Exhausting, yes?  Challenging, yes? Life changing, yes? Enriching, yes?

My Rwandan holiday – Part Two

Gisenyi's sandy beach

As I said at the end of Part One, I was looking forward to a different type of ‘resort’ experience in Gisenyi and I was not to be disappointed. The town of Gisenyi is famous for its sandy beach, colonial history, closeness to the DRC and also to the Virunga National Park with its range of volcanoes famous for the mountain gorillas.

Being in Gisenyi felt like being by the sea – you couldn’t see the opposite side of the lake and there were even waves. A long road with palm trees and old colonial houses runs along the beach and leads to one of two border crossings – Gisenyi has seen some troubles over the years most recently with fighting by M23 rebels in Goma but today there is a sense of peace and calm.  It does have feel of a faded past with some of the old colonial houses having seen better days but like many other places in Rwanda there are new hotels and other buildings going up – I felt it a shame they couldn’t repair and preserve some of the older buildings as it would allow Gisenyi to have something quite unique.

A reminder of Gisenyi's colonial past

I stayed outside Gisenyi in Kigufi at a small Catholic retreat called St Benoit. Beautiful location, right on the lake with lovely gardens, trees, birdlife, flowers and best of all no Wi-Fi or internet access! I was entertained one morning by the sight of the elderly gardener cutting the grass not by a slasher (long bladed tool) used by most people here but by an electric lawn mower – there were a few anxious moments when the electric cable got very close to the blades.  I think he was probably quite happy with his slasher.

St. Benoit's gardens right on the lake

Cutting the grass with the new fangled contraption!

It was a 20-minute ride by moto to/from Gisenyi, along the lake and across a broken bridge that stopped any car getting to Kigufi unless they took a 45-minute detour. Each time I went over the bridge, on the moto, I wondered whether it would give way – my driver, who I used every day, was called Muzungu Jonathan (you couldn’t have made it up) and as it happens all the time here I now have a new friend.

Muzungu Jonathan and Jonathan Muzungu

I was invited by someone I knew, who lives in Gisenyi, to go on Sunday to his church the Zion Temple - I knew I would be in for a long (3 hours) and lively service.  The preacher who had been invited from the DRC, preached for around an hour in French and the leader of the church translated into Kinyarwandan and my friend tried to translate for me into English – not easy!  As are many of the preachers here, he got very animated and excited as did the church leader who I think felt he had not only to translate but do all the actions as well – very entertaining and made up for the fact that I couldn’t really understand the sermon.

The highlight of my stay was to visit “Imbabazi” a bus and moto ride towards the Volcanoes National Park and a noticeable drop in temperature as we climbed quite quickly from Gisenyi. “Imbabazi” was an orphanage, a pyrethrum farm and gardens created by an American lady called Rosamund Carr who spent much of her life in the DRC and Rwanda until she died in 2006.  She created a wonderful English garden in the middle of Africa and she was also known for her friendship with Dian Fossey – her character and her gardens featured in the film ‘Gorillas in the Mist’.

An English country garden in the middle of Africa

For a couple of hours I felt I was back home in England walking around manicured lawns and flowers of all descriptions.  Ros Carr discovered that due to the climate and the fertile volcanic soil, flowers from all over Europe did very well and she also developed a business selling flowers to many of the hotels in Gisenyi and Kigali. I was accompanied on my tour by three very friendly dogs and at times a very playful cat but I was reminded that I was not really in England by the sight of Rwandans walking along the lane by the gardens.

Two of my three four-legged guides

I bought and read her book “A Land of a Thousand Hills” and I certainly recommend it as a really interesting story not only about her life but also the history of the DRC and Rwanda through peaceful and turbulent times.

The figure in the background was a reminder I was in Rwanda

Then it was back on the bus to Kigali for an overnight stay before the six hour drive back to Kamembe made interesting, as these journeys always are, by a German missionary who decided to preach to the bus as we drove through the Nyungwe Forest much to the amusement of the Rwandans who couldn’t understand a word (maybe not a bad thing) and five Italian girls who were going trekking to the forest. These are never quiet journeys as the radio is blaring out music, people are talking very loudly on their phones or listening to music and the usual loud conversions or shouting as we narrowly avoid a truck coming very fast around the corner in the other direction. I have discovered that having a good books provides some distraction as sleep is out of the question.

So now it's back to work and taking my first day easy by writing this post.

My Rwandan holiday – Part One

Kibuye on Lake Kivu

The beauty of Rwanda still amazes me. For such a small country, the landscape is diverse and so very beautiful and this week I’ve discovered the ‘resort’ of Kibuye on Lake Kivu about half-way between Kamembe in the south and Gisenyi in the north where I head to tomorrow.

Some while back, I decided I needed to take a holiday and did the typical muzungu thing and planned and booked my time off.  I felt I needed to escape, clear my head and try and have some R&R – the last few months have been very busy and I’ve not managed a proper day off in the last three weeks.

Since being in Rwanda, I’ve wanted to explore the resorts of Lake Kivu and on Tuesday I took the boat service that operates a couple of times a week to Kibuye and Ginsenyi. To Kibuye it is a journey time of six hours by boat - slightly longer than taking the bus but on a road that for most part is unmade and impassable in the wet season, which we are now approaching.  I thought I’d spoil myself and book a VIP ticket for around £5.00 rather than a standard ticket for £3.50 but boarding the boat I failed to see anything that resembled a VIP section so just paid for a standard ticket and bought a plastic mug of hot, sweet tea and a doughnut including buying some for the two young boys sitting next to me.

The boat to Kibuye

It was a bit disconcerting to board, after first walking up a few planks of wood, to discover all the passengers (surprisingly for Rwanda it was full at 6.30am even though it wasn’t scheduled to leave at 7am) sitting inside wearing their life-jackets – I decided to use mine as a back-rest as the seats were very hard.  After six hours and a few stops on the way, we finally arrived in Kibuye where they checked our passports/identity cards as we disembarked (at the last moment I decided to bring my passport) although no checks were made when we boarded in Kamembe.

Arrived at Kibuye

Although I try and avoid taking motos, I decided these were the easiest and cheapest form of transport and the young driver who asked me if I wanted a lift knew where the guesthouse was. Kibuye has a one-way system so a rather long ride took place to the guesthouse, which, as I later discovered, was just a short walk up the hill from where the boat docked.  I’d booked a small guesthouse run by the Catholic church – main difference from the ones run by the Anglican Church, such as Peace Guest House, is they serve alcohol.  

View of one of the inlets and guesthouse on top of hill on left

Located on a hilltop it offers wonderful panoramic views over various inlets of Lake Kivu and my bedroom, on the top floor, has windows on two sides so as I sit here and type this I’m looking over the lake and the beautiful hills in the distance.  This morning, after a night of heavy rain, I was able to see two of the volcanoes in the north.

Early morning in Kibuye with two volcanoes in the distance

The location of the guesthouse and the friendliness of the staff make up for the fact that:

a) For two days we have had no water (they say “it’s the dry season and water often is a problem” and I say “but we had two hours of very heavy rain last night”) so it arrives in a jerry can and is left outside the door – cold and so heavy that it is almost impossible to lift

b) They are doing building work, just behind my room starting at 7am in the morning

c) Everything from the doors, curtains and bed make a noise so impossible to do anything in the room quietly

d) There are huge Rwandan crows that make a racket on the tin roof and squawk their beaks off

e) I had to wait last night for an hour and a half for some fish brochettes (wanted beef but no delivery of meat) and chips for supper

Despite these minor irritations, Kibuye is very peaceful and beautiful.  More sophisticated (if that’s the right word to use) than Kamembe, it is a popular resort for people living in Kigali and the nearest to get to by road from the city.  There are some lovely, new hotels overlooking the lake and life seems to go at a gentler pace than the frenetic pace of Kamembe.

One of the 'new' hotels in Kibuye

During the genocide, 90% of Tutsi lost their life in Kibuye– the largest amount of anywhere in Rwanda. The area is dotted with genocide memorials and near to the guesthouse, the church was the scene of a large massacre and now a rather macabre memorial has been erected there with what looks like a shop window of skulls looking out.

One of the many genocide memorials

A rather disturbing memorial

Today, I went out on a boat trip taking in many of the islands dotted around including one called ‘Napoleon’s Island’ as it is shaped like his hat.  Stopping there, John the young boatman decided we had to climb to the top and made a rapid ascent meeting on the way a number of cows and disturbing a large bat colony – John asked if I wanted to go and have a closer use but somewhere at the back of my mind I thought about bats and Ebola (there is a connection) so decided to give it a miss.  

Out on the lake

Disturbing the bat colony

As we carried on climbing, the peace was disturbed by John listening to loud music on his phone – I don’t think Rwandans do quiet as they seem oblivious to noise around them whether it is the radio, ghetto blasters or shouting on their mobile phones.  The climb to the top was worth it as we had a wonderful 360-degree panorama of Kibuye, the lake and surrounding islands as well as the new methane plant extracting methane from the lake (which is full of it) and turning it into electricity. I understand that despite the very high level of methane it is safe as long as the water pressure is greater than the methane pressure, which, at the moment, it is.

John celebrating our climb to the top of Napoleon's hat!

Tomorrow, it’s back on the boat for a shorter three-hour trip to Gisenyi in the north of Lake Kivu and on the border with Goma in the DRC.  I understand a different type of ‘resort’ to Kibuye so looking forward to the experience.

News & views

Last week I moved into the house next door – my new ‘home’ for the rest of the time I am here in this part of Rwanda.  I still have this amazing view over Lake Kivu to the DRC and a garden with avocados, bananas, papaya and even sugar cane.

My bedroom in new house 

The experience of moving into this house has been quite interesting and it feels it has taken me a long time to get in.  After the initial work that needed doing, I had to get furniture made from a local co-operative workshop and have taken delivery of some good, solid pieces – not all quite to the dimensions I wanted but it’s all well made and now looking to use the workshop to make new furniture for the guest house.  I went to Kigali a few weeks back to get a fridge, a gas hob (two burners but with self-ignition – I was very impressed as it saves me having to use these dreadful, tiny wax matches that are impossible to strike), a toaster, kettle and a sandwich maker.  Curtains were made by a local tailor, from brightly coloured African fabric called ‘Ibitenge’ (actually, made in China!) but have now been sent back for alterations as too short and made to wrong dimensions.  This was partly due to the curtain poles being placed higher above the window than I wanted.  But this is what it’s all about being here – nothing is really quite straightforward and even trying to buy some cup hooks in order to hang my mosquito net proved an impossible task!

Furniture delivery on a back of lorry stopping just in time!

At least it didn't come flat packed

Buying mattresses, sheets, towels and the negotiations that go with it is quite an experience but beaten by the sight of a man putting all of the items (including a double and single mattress) on the back of his bicycle and then pushing it up to the house, up a very steep hill and all for £2.00. Thankfully, they were all there waiting for me by the time I made it home.

The house is a bit back-to-front with the sitting room at the back overlooking a wall and bedrooms at front but a lovely view of the lake to wake up to. The terrace, for cost reasons, has been added to the side of the house, rather than the front and the Bishop said “only a muzungu would add a terrace on the side of the house”. I didn’t like to say that I never see Rwandans sitting in their terraces as they are always indoors, behind net curtains shutting our all the glorious views!

View from the terrace of 'new' house

With me, into the house, has come Isaiah a young chap of 21 to work as my house-keeper to clean, wash and iron clothes, do the garden, shop and cook.  Leaving his Mum, brother and family, he has come from a remote, rural village to work for a strange muzungu in a muzungu house with strange things such as toasters and sandwich makers!  The house is large enough for him to have his own room with a shower/wc and for each of us to have our own space and privacy.  It is quite strange to have ‘staff’ and to stop myself from washing up or ironing a shirt and all those things that I have just done for so many years. He speaks some English but is here to help me learn more Kinyarwandan and to be honest it is nice to have someone in the house.  I’m learning that Rwandans love their beans (they call them the African meat) and Isaiah seems quite happy cooking his rice and beans (sometimes taking two hours each evening) but he has discovered the delights of toasted sandwiches and French toast with honey.  This is not the limit of my cooking skills I hasten to add.

My new member of  'staff" - Isaiah

Isaiah comes recommended through a couple I know as it can be a challenge when you have people live in your homes and I have heard stories of working mothers who employ young girls to look after their babies, who go home to discover they have gone taking possessions from the home but, thankfully, not the babies.

It’s been quite a while since I’ve updated my blog, as I’ve just been busy with work, the house, buying a flat in Eastbourne (just exchanged contracts and pretty amazed I have done this 4,000 miles away although a little nervous when I did an on-line transfer, of quite a large amount of money, from my UK account to the solicitor thinking it would be intercepted and end up in the DRC!), and looking after lots visitors  so apologies for a rather long (and I hope not boring) post.

Sadly, we’ve had more thefts a couple of weeks ago.  Woke up in the middle of the night, on hearing voices out in the garden, to see the guard and other guards walking around with torches. I guessed there had been a problem with intruders but decided not to investigate and in the morning I discovered that most of my washing, left on the line to dry overnight by Modeste the guard, was no longer there.  Four good shirts, a pair of trousers and some bed-sheets had all gone – annoying really as they were clothes that I had liked and had formed my ‘working’ wardrobe here.  A cost inconvenience too and the hassle of replacing them as will probably mean a trip to Kigali at some point.

Apparently, the thieves had done a ‘sweep’ of houses on Mont Cyangugu where I live. They broke a window in the Bishop’s house, in his eldest son’s bedroom where he was asleep, shining a torch in his face.  Whilst windows have bars on here, they are breaking windows so they can reach in and take things so a reminder that I mustn’t have things too near the window or leave the keys in the lock which I am in the habit of doing.

A review of security is now needed particularly as I live behind high walls (with glass on top), big gates, nightlights and security guards who, sadly, are asleep most of the night and thefts are still taking place.  Another good reason for having Isaiah here.

Night disturbances seem to a bit of a theme at the moment. I had discovered, some months back, that the wife of Andre, my night guard, was having a baby – their seventh child.  The government are trying to encourage families to have fewer children as they cannot afford school fees and medical insurance as well as clothes and food but Bishop Nathan says without electricity and television what else is for them to do in the evening!  At first, I thought Andre was telling me that his cow was expecting until I realised he was talking about Madame, his wife. Anyway one evening this week, I was going down to the guest house for a surprise birthday celebration for Boniface, whose wife was coming all the way from Kigali, after work, to surprise him – they are newly married so still very keen!  Just before leaving the house Andre was talking loudly on his phone (he doesn’t do quiet) and I worked out, with my limited Kinyarwandan and gesturing signs of a large stomach and rocking baby, that his wife needed to go to hospital in town – they live along the lake some two hours walk from the house.

As it was dark, and a taxi had come to take me to the guesthouse, I offered to give Andre a lift to the guesthouse and he was going to get a moto (motor bike taxi) to his house.  Having called Emmanuel, the guest house manager, from the taxi to help translate I had this hilarious journey with Alexi the taxi driver shouting out of the window trying to find a moto driver and Andre and I having conversations with Emmanuel in English and Kinyarwandan. I discovered that Andre was planning to go by moto to the house (along rough mud tracks) and then take his heavily pregnant wife on another moto to the hospital!  I asked Alexi if he could take them but he had other commitments and arriving at the guest house I wondered if I should take the Diocesan Land Cruiser, that was there and drive Andre to his house and take his wife to the hospital but the thought of her giving birth in the back of the vehicle was something I could not have coped with. Thankfully, Andre said a moto would be fine – I wonder if his wife thought so too!

At around 3am the following night, I was woken up by Andre again shouting very loudly on the phone and got up to discover his wife, who had been sent back home from the hospital, had given birth to a baby boy at their house. I worked out that the ‘umwana’ (baby) was an umuhungu (a boy) – his second son. When I asked him a couple of days later the name of the baby it took him a while to remember but told me that it something like “Praise God” (in Kinyarwanda) – babies are often named after an event or situation or to thank God and then they give them a Christian name later.

From a birth to two deaths. People seem to die here at quite a frequency. Bit of a morbid one to write about but that is the reality of life here.  People die suddenly, often without any known symptoms or cause – they are buried the day later and that’s it.  They die young too – the other week a friend of the Bishop, who was 46, suddenly died leaving a wife and children and then last weekend an ex-teacher from the school next to the guest house died in Uganda with no illness, symptoms and again leaving a wife and children.

Driving to the south of Rwanda on Sunday afternoon, with some friends, we passed a woman who had been knocked down and killed in the road.  Driving past (there was nothing we could have done had we stopped) someone pulled back a cloth that was covering her, revealing her face and then we saw a large pool of blood under the body.  A shocking and haunting image but explaining the situation to a Rwandan friend later it hardly provoked a reaction.

I mentioned in my last blog post that I had visited a man who was very ill in hospital. Sadly, Mastac died a few days later - he was transferred to receive treatment in another hospital some three hours away but news came through that he had died.  I went to the funeral, my first experience of a burial (as they refer to them here) joining family and friends as they were leaving the house with the coffin on a back of a truck, loaded with people and someone holding up a large photograph of Mastac and another holding a large cross.  We followed in a taxi whilst others walked to a hill on the opposite side of some fields to the burial ground.

There were some 200 who had gathered for the burial I suspect some were spectators rather than mourners.  There was, at the beginning, respectful silence with none of the usual interruptions of the mobile phone – looking around I couldn’t see anyone on or checking their phones, a rare sight in Rwanda!  Some men went down into the grave to help lower the coffin and then everyone started singing and when I commented to Enid, from the guest house, how lovely the singing was she said “Africans sing at every occasion” and she was right.  A number of men then helped to put the earth back onto the grave and once full, women then decorated it with leaves and flowers. It was somehow beautiful in its simplicity and wonderful that so many people had taken part – Mastac was laid to rest in the hills of Rwanda overlooking his home.

I have mentioned before that my days here are all so different as are the situations I find myself in.  A talent show one day and then an attendee at a burial on another and a hospital visit the next. I went again to visit the young mother with the sick baby.  She was being transferred to a hospital in Huye, a three-hour journey away, but did not have money to pay off the hospital fees and the funds needed for treatment at the other hospital.  Although she has medical insurance, she still had to pay 10% of the costs so with funds available from the Diocese Clinic, donated by a team that came next year, I was able to pay off the fees and also give her money for Huye.  I have just heard that the baby had a CT scan and has been diagnosed with water on the brain or ‘Hydrocephalus’ (as I discovered when looking on the internet).  I don’t think the doctors are very optimistic and now waiting to see if they will transfer mother and baby again to Kigali to see a specialist or send her back to the hospital here.  It all seems a hopeless situation and it’s a big challenge here to find out the information needed to make a decision on something.

I visited again the lady with HIV as the Diocese/guest house had given her a ‘gift’ of the salary she was being paid  - around £20.00 per month so we gave her £100.00. Sadly, the Diocese doesn’t want to guarantee her any more money so I have told her I will find the money from somewhere so she can continue to pay for her carers.

Last week I said goodbye to the final visitors from my church.  Since arriving back in Rwanda, following my break in the UK in April, there have been many visitors including Barbara, Anne and Peter out here to teach English at a secondary school next to the guesthouse. Last weekend, I was visited by Christopher who is working in Kigali for five months and his parents who have come out to see him for a holiday.  On Saturday, we visited the Nyungwe Forest to do a canopy walk – made you feel like “I’m a Celebrity Get me Out of Here” but an amazing feat of engineering to build a structure like this in the heart of an African mountain forest. It was high and it did swing but great fun to do.

The Nyungwe Canopy Walk

Stepping out

On Sunday, I drove them down to Bugarama in the south of Rwanda, a large, hot valley with rice fields, a large cement factory and hot springs. Having driven past the lady who had been killed on the road, it was good to have some light relief including the sight of Christopher’s Dad, also called Chris, taking a dip in the hot springs much to the amusement of some Rwandans who come to swim and bathe in what, in places, is extremely hot water. Chris did come out of the water looking well boiled.

Driving back, along a very rough track through a rice field, the silencer of the car decided to drop off – not the best of places to breakdown but Chris was soon under the car with some shoelaces to tie it back on.  By this time a large crowd had gathered, as it does when anything happens here and at the sight of the bazungu getting slightly hysterical about their situation.

We were passed by a small bus, with some American ladies onboard who happened to be staying at the guest house but even though I think they recognised us, they drove straight past without stopping.  We were able to get the car going, followed them as we wanted them to take back Christopher’s Mum and Peter to lighten the load in the car and Chris decided to leap out of the car - another funny moment, with him running past them frantically waving until they eventually stopped.

They had been nicknamed, by Peter, the ‘Santa Barbara Babes’ and we discovered, following them, that their number place started with RAC making us all laugh as we had joked, after we had broken down, about calling the RAC to come and get us. Thankfully, we made it back to the guesthouse and the car was repaired the following morning to allow Christopher and his Mum and Dad to return to Kigali.

The staff at the guesthouse love having guests and visitors and particularly, in the case of Barbara and Anne when they are stay for a long time. They became very attached to Barbara and Anne, in the two months they were there, and it was lovely to see them take either by the hand to help them up and down the steep stairs and slopes that connect the rooms. Poor Anne, even at the end, still huffed and puffed up and down the stairs, often taking a seat to catch her breath and I loved the way she would come to breakfast wearing an apron, so not to get food down her dress, looking as if she was running a tea-shop.  Left at the guesthouse, until last Monday, was Peter who had joined Barbara and Anne a few weeks ago but had his last week of teaching sabotaged by two public holidays (Independence Day and Liberation Day) – here, the government only announce the night before, on the radio, whether the following day is actually going to be a holiday so trying to plan anything is really difficult. Unfortunately, for Peter, they announced that the two days would be official holidays, with schools closed, so he lost two days of teaching.

Barbara, they're behind you!

Barbara, Anne and Peter had come challenging times teaching English but they also had some joyful moments. Anne decided to arrange a “Jill Barham’s Got Talent” competition for the secondary school students and around 50 took part – singers, dancers, catwalk models, poetry tellers and even a karate demonstration. I had been invited to be one of the judges and our role was not to pick a winner but to give constructive feedback to all the participants – the other judges decided I should be the one that spoke so found myself standing up in front of around 600 students and teachers.  This is something that I would have hated doing some years back but I seem to be able to take it all in my stride now as you have to be ready here to stand up and make a speech with no warning.

Jill Barham's Got Talent

Finally, this week the muzungu really lost his cool!  A combination of tiredness, frustrations, misunderstandings and bad communications made me boil over and walk out of the guesthouse in a strop.  I think it highlighted that, at times, it is difficult to work cross-culturally and there's no getting away from the fact the we are very different in the way we communicate, the way we do things, the way we keep time and all sorts of other things.  I am pleased to report that all is fine now and out of these moments comes learning’s and, hopefully, a better understanding of how we need to work together to help and serve those people in real need.