Smiles

After what has been quite a difficult week (more about that later), yesterday started with Umuganda (Community Work Day) and I worked with some other people from Mont Cyangugu where I live. Our task was to clear a small road that runs past my house, along the hill that had become quite overgrown with bushes, plants and weeds since the heavy rains. Although only a small group of people turned up, we did manage with pangas (machetes) and slashers (long blades that are a bit like a golf-club putter allowing you to cut the grass by slashing it and without bending down) to make quite a difference after a couple of hours.

The work session finishes with the executive leader of the area giving out news.  We were told that there are been problems at night, along this stretch of road and hence the reason for us clearing it, with thieves.  I have to be thankful that I live in a secure house with high walls, gates and guards although I haven’t, in the time I have been here, felt in any danger but there are many people who live here who don’t have walls, gates and guards and their houses are often the target for thieves. Some of the people complained saying they paid money each month for security patrols and they weren’t really do their jobs properly.

I also learnt that the police are on the alert for Rwandans who escaped to the DRC, after the genocide, who are looking to come back to stir up trouble – they found one man at the border crossing, trying to come across into Rwanda, with a pistol hidden in a sack of grain. It’s easy to forget when you sit here and look across the lake to the DRC (as I am doing now) what a lawless and dangerous country it is and still home for many Rwandans who now live or have ben hiding there since 1994.

After Umuganda, I’d arranged to go and visit the family of Cyrille, one of the staff at the guesthouse, something I had promised to do for some time.  Cyrille is a lovely young man, one of the best workers we have and has an amazing Colgate smile! I know that when the other staff have found out I visited his family they are all going to want me to go and visit theirs so I could be quite busy.  Cyrille’s family live about an hour’s walk from the house and it was wonderful trek through the countryside passing through woods, walking through fields growing cassava, beans, bananas, grass for the cattle, bamboo and something I think may have been sisal.

Cyrille's Colgate smile!

We went via Murangi Farm, owned by the Diocese and where Cyrille worked before he came to the guesthouse.  A bit of a detour but worth it when we got there as it had been a while since I last visited and it was good to see it looking good with fields of banana trees, beans, cassava as well as cows, pigs and chickens.  The farm supplies the guesthouse with eggs and sells them also in Kamembe so generating income for the farm –I bought a dozen for myself and some for Cyrille’s Mum and was quite amused to see they have egg boxes from a Hoad’s Farm, Seddlescombe in East Sussex so wondering how they got there!

Eggs from Hoad's Farm, East Sussex

Cyrille’s Mum and Grandmother live in a little community of houses deep in the countryside.  In each of the houses lives a member of his family – mainly his Mum’s brothers whilst Cyrille’s sister lives in Kamembe.  Cyrille’s father died in the genocide.  I guess it isn’t everyday they have a muzungu to visit so it didn’t take long for all the children to appear and enjoy the biscuits I had brought with me.  Houses here are simply built out of mud-bricks with tin roofs and outside kitchens. 

The kitchen & we complain when we don't have enough worktops!

Cyrille pointed out the new light switches and light bulb sockets saying the houses would soon have electricity as it was the governments policy to get electricity into every home in Rwanda – what a difference this will make (as long as they can afford to buy it) and for the children when they do their homework at night.  The houses because they are mud-lined inside are dark in the day and much darker at night!

It was great to see this family living in a community – mothers, fathers, uncles, aunts, sons, daughters, nephews, nieces and cousins something we have lost in the West and Cyrille’s Grandmother the Matriarch of the family.

Cyrille's Granny

The muzungu couldn't quite match Cyrille's Colgate smile

After the customary Fanta, photographs and questions for the muzungu about if I was married, how many children I had, what are their names, how old were they, how old was I and then laughter when I attempted to talk to them in my limited Kinyarwandan, it was time to leave and take a shortcut back to Kamembe. 

Cyrille's family - his Mum is in centre at back

Cyrille’s shortcuts involved going up very steep hills (he told me he used to run up these hills with a backpack on to keep fit) and I found myself getting very out of breath which is more, I have to say, to do with the altitude here than my fitness – Cyrille kept saying “sorry, sorry” each time I stopped as if it was his fault and a lovely thing I notice they say here when they see you struggling or are unwell. I had lots of “sorries” when I went to church this morning when they saw a plaster on my hand following a nasty blister I got doing Umuganda. I must sound so feeble but by Rwandan standards I am now an old man!

One of Cyrille's shortcuts

Soon we were back in Kamembe where it felt strange to emerge from the peacefulness of the countryside into the bustling town and the sharp contrast between rural and town living.

Being back in town reminded me of the difficult week I had just had.  I bumped into a young man who I had to dismiss from the guesthouse last week.  It was the first time I have had to sack someone so not an easy experience but I was justified in my decision and as a contract worker I was able to let him go straight away.  It was a shame as he was a young man I had tried to help by giving him a job so he had some money, accommodation and meals at the guesthouse but for a number of reasons he couldn’t fit in. I understand he had told someone that other staff were against him as they thought I had given him a job to spy on them! Not true but it is the way peoples mind work here sometimes.

A lot of people said he was a troubled young man which I guess he was and I did wonder, after I had let him know, whether he would come back and try and cause trouble for me so in a way I was pleased to see him in town yesterday and have a talk.

Passing the hospital also reminded me of a visit I had made earlier that week to see two people. The first was a man who had become known to me and members of out church teams over the years who was diabetic and someone from the church supported him by giving him money to buy insulin.  He was now in hospital with a serious kidney infection and suffering in all sorts of ways.  Whilst he had medication the insurance scheme he was on only allowed for a certain level of medicine – most people in Rwanda, unless you can afford to pay for seeing a doctor or going into hospital, have to have medical insurance and the poorer people have a scheme called Mutelle and although it only costs around £3.00 per year for each family member, many families cannot afford to pay this and they have to pay 10% of treatment costs which again for many people is something they cannot afford to do.

When you go into hospital, you have to have a carer with you and this is often a family member who stays with you in the room either sleeping in a spare bed or on the floor.  They will bring in food and cook it in the hospital and also clean and wash the patient.  This man was also struggling, as he had no money to pay for food for his family or pay for his children to go to school.  The doctor said he needed to be transferred to a hospital in Huye (3 hours by road) or Kigali (6 hours) for further treatment that would, financially, be out of his reach. Fortunately, later that day I was able to contact someone in the UK who very generously donated some money to support him and his family.

I next visited a young woman with a sick baby who featured in my blog a few months ago. The baby is again very sick with pneumonia and malnutrition and I found him lying on a bed covered in dirty woolen blankets looking very ill and weak.  Although just over year old he looked as if he was only a few months old but the doctor who came into the room did say he thought he would recover although it would never be fully well. The mother has insurance to pay for treatment and fortunately funds were available at the Diocesan clinic to support her and the baby if further treatment was needed.

A couple of days before I’d been to hospital, I’d gone to see a lady who had worked for many years at the guesthouse. Some months ago we noticed a salary was being paid to an ex-member of staff who nobody knew about so I suggested we stop the payment, as I needed the money to pay for another worker I wanted to take on, and said that if she wanted the money then I am sure she would let us know. We had no way of contacting her, as nobody seemed to know where she lived. Anyway, a few months later she did let us know and it turned out she is someone who is dying of HIV. I went to see her, as I wanted to explain to her why we had stopped her salary and also to say sorry.  When I went into her bedroom in the house where she is staying and being looked after, at first I only saw a large double bed with a sheet in the middle but then realized there was a person there and although nothing more than skin and bones I was greeted by an amazing smile that actually lit up the room.

It turned out she had worked at the guest house since 1998 and had been there over the time I had visited since 2006 but, sadly, I had no recollection of her and someone said that she was a very large, plump lady but now so, so painfully thin.  It was a the first time I had been so close to someone so ill with HIV and it was quite shocking.  I, of course, promised to pay her the money that we had not paid her – it is only a small salary of £20.00 but it will help her careers to look after her.  A very humbling experience.

When I am at the guesthouse, I often have people who come to see me about a problem they had.  This week I was pleased to see a lady from the DRC whose husband had suddenly died a couple of years ago.  Her husband used to make wooden crafts and bring them to the guesthouse to sell to the teams I used to bring from the UK.  We had suddenly heard he had died but nobody knew how or from what and we couldn’t find any information about him.  His wife was able to tell me that he had suffered from severe head pains and had become paralyzed down one side and on visiting hospitals in Burundi and Rwanda he came back to the DRC and was, finally, able to get a diagnosis that he had, what sounds like, a brain tumour. He died aged 37 leaving behind a wife and 7 children. Hopefully, I am going see if I can get some of the crafts, still made by his wife and a co-operative, sold in the guesthouse shop to support her.

Being here, you come across so many people living in challenging and difficult conditions but as I have said before I never hear people complain. They may from time to time ask to borrow money but often because their need is so great and they understand if the answer is no. I feel very blessed to be developing these friendships (and to help where I can) and Rwanda is a relational place where people give time for one another. Through these people I meet, I am also learning a lot about myself and although at times not easy I feel it is very much part of why I am here.