Noele nziza!

Nkombo Island Children's Feeding Programme

Having spent the last few days in Kigali, on yet another failed mission to Immigration to get my visa/work permit, yesterday I found myself on Nkombo Island to attend a special Christmas lunch for 320 malnourished children. Nkombo is one of the poorest parts, in this corner of Rwanda and the children are part of a Feeding Clinic Programme, run by the Diocese, where they receive a weekly cup of nutritional porridge.

Today they brought all the children together; normally they divide them into groups of around 60, as Josephine, the wife of the Archbishop of Rwanda, The Most Rev.Onesphore Rwaje, had come to visit.  All the children were ready and seated at 9am and we arrived at 12 noon having driven from Kamembe and then taken a boat across Lake Kivu to the island.  A bit of challenge for Josephine and Esther, wife of Bishop Nathan, to get in and out of the wooden boats - there were moments when I thought one of them might topple into the water.

Don't rock the boat as the wives of the Archbishop & Bishop might go overboard!

The children were given a hearty lunch of meat, rice, vegetables and a bottle of orange squash. They sat patiently through songs and speeches before getting fed – all very organised, with no grabbing hands and the children made sure that others around them also got their plate of food as easy to miss one or two. Altogether there must have been around 500 children adults gathered today on what was a very hot day but a wonderful thing to be part of.

Dishing out the start of over 300 lunches

The Archbishop is here for a few days to officially open some new churches. There was a delightful moment this morning when we were sitting in the living room of his room, waiting for his wife to arrive on the flight from Kigali.  Hearing the plane land, the airport is a short distance from the guest house, he said “I better go and make my bed before my wife comes” and wouldn’t accept the offer of a member of staff making his bed for him.

So, I came back from Kigali still without visa and passport.  Yes, the saga continues after what I think is six visits to Immigration in Kigali, six visits to Immigration in Kamembe and countless letters, documents, copies of this and copies of that.  Don’t really understand what’s going on but am sure learning a lot about patience and perseverance – much more than I thought I had.  Now I have to wait for a phone call in the next few days – not sure what they are going to say, yes I have it, no I don’t, come to Kigali for an interview or a request for further documents.  If I do get it on Monday or Tuesday, it would be a great Christmas present. 

Arriving into Kigali last Tuesday huge black storm clouds had gathered over the city and the surrounding hills – was this an omen, I thought?  Arriving at the bus station the heavens opened and a deluge of water came down and through the coach park, trapping me and other people in the coach office where we were stuck for an hour watching the waters getting higher. A taxi had come to meet me but was unable to get to me because of the level of the waters but eventually he managed to reverse the car and, I was able to clamber in hoping that I wasn’t going to topple in the water with everyone watching the muzungu make a complete ass of himself.

The start of the rains & flooding

Leaving the coach park, we realised we were not going to get anywhere fast as the rains had brought the city to a standstill.  I had decided, this time, to stay with Rwandan friends, Charles and Juliette and a normal journey time of 20 minutes took me 3 hours!  I’ve since seen in the national press that 6 people were washed away and drowned, because of the amount of rain that came down - 5 of these where children, 60 houses where destroyed and also many plantations were damaged with crops lost.

Staying with Charles and Juliette, in what they call their “elastic” house, was very enjoyable – I still get confused with the number of family/friends who live there as every time we sit down for a meal I’m sure there’s an extra person I haven’t met before – in addition to their own children, they also have adopted children living there and at one stage Charles said there were 21 people in the house.  At the last count, I made it 12 but this number seems to be going up and down as they see to have an open house policy where neighbours and children also come in – it’s a great example of Rwandese hospitality and they always seem to produce enough food for everyone.

I enjoy taking myself off and just walking along the streets observing all the street traders and looking at the shops and what they are selling.  I was tempted to buy myself a new suit but, unfortunately, they did not have it in my size.  The models reminded me a bit of Posh and Becks!

Suits you sir!

Getting back to Kamembe, on Friday, was a bit of a challenge as all the buses were fully booked because of the start of the Christmas holidays and people returning home.  Charles managed to find me a seat with one of the bus companies so another 6 hour, bottom numbing, stomach churning drive back.  Thankfully, nobody was sick although quite a few were feeling queasy as we came through the forest. Not the most relaxing of journey’s with the radio on full blast (on the way to Kigali we had Celine Dion, Abba, Dolly Parton and a few Rwandese songs that had some of the passengers singing and clapping – sadly, I did sing along to Abba!), people talking and shouting endlessly on their mobile phones - no signal as you go through the forest so an hour and half respite!

Today is the 22^nd December and any signs of Christmas here are still non-existent. It does feel a bit bizarre as I sit here looking out over the garden, with flowers blooming and the sun beginning to go down after another warm day.  This afternoon I was invited to attend a confirmation celebration and was sitting under a marquee thinking back in the UK it will shortly be getting dark, fires will be lit, Christmas tree lights will be on.  Am I missing it?  If I was honest, a little bit. 

The celebration followed a three-hour church service this morning complete with confirmations, communion and an hour’s sermon from the Archbishop – a lovely, humble man who preached not from the front but wandered around the church addressing members of the congregation. Not sure if this was to keep them awake as it was getting very hot under the tin roof!  The service was followed by a lunch for the Archbishop and his wife and then it was off to the confirmation celebration that included yet another lunch.

It’s interesting to observe the customs here. The celebration had us all seated in rows of chairs, introductory speeches, food, the customary bottle of Fanta, more speeches, not a lot of talking amongst guests and then we leave.  A different kind of social event to what we do in the UK – standing around, talking, drinking, more drinking. 

New Year is the more important event here when they celebrate in a much bigger way so it is going to be interesting to experience my first ever Christmas away from home and in a place so far away from the UK. I will try and get into the spirit of Christmas by listening to some carols, putting up some tinsel (thanks Charlotte for sending this to me!), lighting some candles and maybe picking some fresh flowers from the garden as long as Modeste, the guard, doesn’t see me as he looks after it so well.

So, this is my final blog post for 2013 after what is nearly 8 months spent here in Rwanda.

Wishing you all a very Happy Christmas and a peaceful 2014.

P.S. I mentioned in my last post a young women with a sick baby. She was referred to a hospital in Kigali where they they have said the baby has/had meningitis. They have prescribed some medicine and she will have to go back in a month for a follow-up appointment.

The Muzungu from Cyangugu

I don’t think Nakumatt, in Kigali, get many customers from Cyangugu, let alone a 'Muzungu from Cyangugu', so when Enid, the Peace Guest House Assistant Manager, went in last week to enquire about a broken food blender we had bought there, and I had returned shortly after to see about it getting repaired, they remembered the Muzungu with the blender from Cyangugu.

So that’s how I think I am going to be known from now on – the Muzungu from Cyangugu.

In Kigali, last Friday, I went back to Nakumatt to continue my mission to get the blender that seemed to have disappeared (either it was still under the Customer Services counter or really was at the Philips workshop being repaired – I sort of think it was the former but maybe I am getting cynical in my old age!) and had made Enid laugh when I said I was going to ‘Kick some ass in Nakumatt!”  Anyway, I did and it seemed to work as they gave me a new blender – mission accomplished!

Christmas comes to Nakumatt - elephant is a reminder I'm in Africa

My next mission is my visa/work permit although not sure how much ass I will be able to kick there. Back to Immigration, in Kigali, on Monday to face the ongoing saga – we have done the police clearance, proof of my exam qualifications and now they want my ordination certificates!  I had to laugh when they texted me last week to say they couldn’t process my visa application without seeing my ordination certificates so now I have to go and explain that I am not a vicar, rector, pastor but just someone who has come to Rwanda to do voluntary work.  I wonder what they will ask for next.

Have been spending the weekend in Gahini, in the eastern part of Rwanda.  You can just about make it out in the map below – Cyangugu is in the bottom left of the country and it’s a five hour drive to Kigali, through the Nyungwe Forest via Gikongoro and then a further one and a half hour to Gahini at the eastern end of Lake Muhazi, to the northeast (or top right if you don't know your east from your west!) of Kigali.

From Cyangugu to Gahini

I have to confess the last time I travelled on a public bus in Rwanda was when I first visited the country in 2006. I have done the journey, by road, many times but only in ‘private’ buses or cars and have also flown a few times – 30 minutes by air versus 5 hours by road is really a no brainer, especially when you’ve done the journey many times but when it comes to £90.00 by air versus £5.00 by road, I do need to stop and think about it now.

So, last Thursday I found myself on an Impala Express, a 50-seater bus packed full.  I was hoping for a fairly relaxing journey, seated by the window with time to listen to some music, look out of the window to enjoy the scenery or just to doze.

I suppose I should have known better. A young man soon joined me, although bus at that point still had many empty seats, who proceeded to chat and explain that he had recently left school where he had been sponsored through primary and secondary education but no longer had a sponsor to support him through university.  I knew what was coming but had to explain that I was approached by a lot of people who wanted sponsorship, financial support and that it was impossible to support all these requests.  We discovered we were seated below an emergency hatch in the roof that, for some reason, started leaking water and he was getting very wet so decided to move seats.

A young woman then sat next to me with two small boys, as the water seemed to have stopped leaking.  The bus made a few stops, shortly after leaving Kamembe, to take on a few more passengers and for the driver to discover there weren’t enough seats. A lot of shouting started and they seemed determined to remove the woman next to me, and her two small boys, but she remained firmly seated and refused to move and it seemed a lot of the other passengers were giving her their support. Somehow the confusion was sorted and we continued the journey with the radio blaring loud African music that drowned out any music I was trying to listen to.

The road from Kamembe to the Nyungwe Forest is very winding and the drivers go fast. People had told me that when the buses enter the forest that passengers started to throw up and I soon discovered this was true.  Five minutes in and the plastic bags (even though plastic bags are banned in Rwanda, I’m pleased to see passengers breaking the law!) came out and the woman next to me started to vomit and she didn’t stop until three hours later when we were an hour outside Kigali. I spent much of the journey opening the window as she tossed yet another full bag of the contents of her stomach out of the window. I felt sorry for anyone walking along the road!

I did feel sorry for her and so relieved that I don’t suffer from travel sickness and was so impressed by her two sons who sat quietly through what turned into a six hour journey with no questions of “are we there yet?” or “I’m bored” or “I want to go to the toilet”. No food or drink or having to be entertained by games or gadgets.

After an overnight stop in Kigali, it was time for a well-earned cappuccino and chocolate croissant in Café Bourbon now my first port of call when I am in the city. Sitting, watching people on their smart phones and laptops it made me realise, again, the difference between Kigali and Kamembe. 

Kigali's 'new' coffee shop culture

Only a couple of days earlier I had been sitting in a small house, with mud-lined walls, visiting a young woman whose very sick baby had TB, probably HIV and also some spinal problems.  Both mother and baby looked ill and although she was breast-feeding I doubt the baby was getting very much milk and looked so listless. The mother, an orphan, had become pregnant after sleeping with a boy at school who was sent away once she discovered she was having a baby which is what happens here.  Living with an adopted family, the mother has to stay at home to look after the baby, and she looked so sad with an overwhelming sense of hopelessness about her situation.

Mother and baby

We had taken her some food and clothes and also given her some money. Thankfully, there are funds available, donated by a mission team from Scotland who had come out in August, to support her with food and hospital treatment and I heard on Friday that she had gone back to the hospital with her baby and they decided to keep them in so, hopefully, they can find out what is wrong and provide necessary treatment.

After my blender success, it was time for the next bus trip to Gahini.  Having done this 90-minute drive before, I knew that the roads were fairly flat and for the most part straight. It is all a bit chaotic at the bus stations here with no destination signs on the buses but you seem to end up on the right one and people are very keen to help out the lone muzungu. They seemed to manage to fit 40 people onto a 29 seater that proved to be challenge for me, being at the back, when I had to get the bus to stop at Gahini and get out.

Waiting for the bus to Gahini

Stepping off the bus there was an immediate sense of peace. Lake Muhazi is much smaller than Lake Kivu and surrounded by small hills and is where President Paul Kagame comes from and where, today, he has a farm on the other side of the lake.

Gahini is on top a hill and is where early African missionaries built a centre with hospital, church and school. It was also the place that experienced the start of the East African Revival in the 20’s/30’s – Rwanda is the only country to have experienced both Revival and Genocide.  The early missionaries always chose to have their centres on the hills where it was cooler and probably where they could enjoy the views – having visited quite a few of these early mission centres in Rwanda, Uganda and Burundi, it is easy to see why they chose such beautiful locations.

View from the house over Lake Muhazi

I have been staying with a lovely South African couple, Wim and Bertha, who have been here for 12 years. Wim, a doctor, retrained as an eye specialist and works in Gahini Hospital and Bertha works with disabled and blind people at the school and a rehabilitation centre. They live in a lovely house with beautiful views down the hill to the lake and a garden full of flowers. Unlike where I live in Kamembe, their house doesn’t have high walls with broken glass along the top, big metal gates or security guards but do have a small pet dog that lets out a little bark when she sees someone coming to the house. The Rwandans are surprised, when you take her for a walk off the lead, to see a dog and some are even scared as not sure what to make of her.

Wim & Bertha's lovely house

Bertha, a few days before I arrived, had been appointed Coach and Manager of the Rwandan Goal Ball team – a game for blind players involving throwing a ball to score a goal.  She returned to Gahini on Friday evening, from Kigali where she had been training the team, for a short overnight rest before returning to Kigali on Saturday before flying with the team to Nairobi, on Sunday, to take part in a pan-African tournament. Funding for the team had only come in a few days earlier so she had virtually no notice to get herself to Kigali, train the team and then get them to Nairobi.

Much of the weekend has been spent sitting and enjoying the views, reading and sharing experiences with Wim and his 12 years here in Gahini.  Had a nice picnic lunch down by the lake but decided not to follow Wim for a swim when we saw a rather large snake going through the water.

Decided not to dip my toe into the water!

I’m now back in Kigali, twiddling my thumbs as latest visit to Immigration Office proved, yet again, fruitless.  Now waiting for the Bishop to come back to Kigali, from Uganda, tomorrow so, hopefully, we can go together and see someone higher up – either that or I need some divine intervention.

Each time I go to immigration, I think I’m over the final hurdle to be faced with yet another one or two put up in front of me.  They seem to want certificates for everything that I don’t have even though I am more than qualified to do the work here and not blowing my own transport but they really need people, like me, with business experience to help them. 

They are hanging onto my passport and the only way I will get this back is either with my visa/work permit or I write to them applying for it back, with a copy of my return ticket to the UK so I can get out of the country. I'm not laughing now!

Which one will it be?

Is it November?

November garden

Sitting here, out on the terrace, on a sunny and warm November morning.  Modeste, the guard, is doing one of his mega-cleans of the house so I have been banished from the house outside with all the furniture.

Apart from the distant sounds of the choir from the Catholic Church, rehearsing under a tree outside the church, I can hear them singing ‘Gloria in Excelsis Deo’, this is the only thing that lets me know it is November and Christmas is approaching.

Flowers in the garden are in full bloom again and I have two trees teeming with mangoes that everyone is desperate to come in and take, once they have ripened in a couple of weeks.  Not being seasonal here, as it is in the UK, you don’t really get a sense of what month it is other than looking at the diary or calendar. I’m not missing the commercialism of Christmas and, apart from seeing some street vendor selling some gaudy 'Joy to the World' poster (I resisted buying it), there’s no sign it’s going to be December in a couple of weeks.

Mango tree or so I've been told - I'm a city boy!

My visa/work permit saga continues.  Have lost track of the number of times I have been to the Immigration Office, here and in Kigali, think it is around 8 times with each visit resulting in a request to produce more letters and paperwork.  Latest request is for me to produce all my ‘O’ and ‘A’ level certificates from my exams I took in 1973 – 1975 that I don’t have. For some reason, I had kept all the paper slips which, in those days of old, they used to send you to notify you of your passes and failures - yes, I had a few. These were in a box in the attic of my friends, Richard and Prilla in Lewes, who are very kindly looking after some bits for me and Richard managed to find them, scan them and email them out.  However, the IO didn’t want to accept them but we have managed to get them stamped and signed by the District Office which proves they are originals, even though they are not, and now they have gone back to Kigali with all the paperwork and my passport will come back next Friday either with a visa/permit or a request for more documentation.

If Kigali insist on me producing original certificates then I am, as they say, "stuffed" and I might be home for Christmas. You can only get duplicates if you have lost them in a fire or had them stolen in which case you have to produce police and insurance reports and I'm not sure if they accept a Certified Statement.

My permitted time, to be here in Rwanda, ran out last Sunday but as my application is in the system they can’t say I am here illegally so I’m not expecting, hopefully, for a knock on the door to be faced with some guys in police uniform.

As a welcome break from all the stress that this process has caused, I’m sure I will be able to laugh about it afterwards, last weekend I went with a couple of friends of the Bishop to show them some of the beautiful countryside and scenery we have in this area.  On Saturday, we drove south to the town of Bugarama famous for its hot springs and huge rice plains.  Afterwards, we drove down towards the Burundi border passing right next to the DRC – stopping by the roadside, we were able to look down across the Rusizi River, that flows into Lake Kivu, across into the vastness of the DRC with plains and mountains in the distance.  This huge country stretches all the way from the middle of Africa to the Atlantic Ocean.

Bugarama with rice plains and hills of Burundi

Another 1km drive, you turn the corner and there is Burundi opening up in front of you so you have this opportunity to experience 3 African Countries within a few minutes of each other.  The border crossing has just been built with brand new buildings, smart offices with computers, printers, shiny floor tiles (loads of kids were sliding across it as if it was a giant skating rink) and is, so we were told, a model for all the border crossings that will be in Rwanda on the borders of Burundi, DRC, Uganda and Tanzania.  Another example of how things are moving on here – wish they would do something to move on the visa application process.

Overlooking Ruzisi River and the DRC

Sunday we drove in the other direction to the Nyungwe Forest and a taste of luxury at the Nyungwe Forest Lodge Hotel that I had visited some months earlier with the Bishop.  It was a damp day but they had open fires, comfortable sofas and lots of books to read so we had a bit of a lazy Sunday afternoon and a nice lunch too – soup to start with proper bread rolls and butter!

The beauty of the Nyungwe Forest

I’ve asked Christian, a young lad who acts as my translator and guide, to give me Kinyarwanda lessons so we are going to start these this afternoon. He speaks very good English and has a two month break from school as students are now on their long holiday so we are going to spend a couple of hours each Saturday afternoon trying to improve my Kinyarwandan. I want to be able to try and engage in some proper conversations or, at least, try to make myself be understood.

Work at the guest house continues to keep me busy. Today is my first day off for a couple of weeks so a combination of not having had much time off and the stress of the visa application process had made me feel pretty exhausted.  Have planned a weekend away in a couple of weeks – going to Gahini located to the east of Rwanda, overlooking Lake Muhazi which has very different scenery to this area around Lake Kivu.  I’m visiting a South African couple who have been there, as missionaries, for some years and who I met when I came out in May – they are also good friends of Richard and Prilla who, themselves, lived in Gahini for 10 years in the 70’s and they are the reason for why I am here today.

As it will be a seven-hour drive by road, I am debating whether to get the bus to Kigali – a five-hour, fast drive or the more costly option of flying up to Kigali in thirty minutes and then a two-hour drive to Gahini.  I have to confess, I’ve not been on a public bus since I’ve been in Rwanda as, in the times I’ve been up and down to Kigali, I’ve either flown or been given a lift. 

I’ve decided I need to have these ‘treats’ from time to time, and not to feel guilty about it, and to be able to escape from here for a while.  It does feel, being here, that you are in a bubble and having to go through the forest, when you drive to Kigali which takes about an hour a half, makes you feel a bit cut off from the rest of Rwanda sometimes.

Life continues to have its challenges and frustrations. Sometimes I do feel this conflict that goes on between the Muzungu way of doing things and the Rwandese way that does, if I am honest, cause me some inner turmoil from time to time.  There’s a lot of process and administration involved in everything (as I am discovering from my visa application) and yesterday I had to get 4 cheques signed, for the guest house, by the Diocese and I worked out, with all the requisition forms and payment request forms and the cheques that needed signing by three people, including me, we ended up having 36 signatures!

It was then off to the bank to pay the monthly VAT and PAYE – 15^th of each month is the deadline date for all these payments and if you miss it you are heavily fined by the RRA (Rwanda Revenue Authority) with no questions asked.  Arriving at the bank, I discovered they were having network problems and couldn’t process the payments so, in between a another visit to the Immigration Office, stopping off at the guest house, visits back to the bank, staff lunch breaks, the payments were finally made in the afternoon at which point I decided to call it a day and headed to the house. It would  have just been my luck in trying to make these payments for the first time, they are usually done by Boniface in the guest house who looks after all the finances, I managed to get a fine for late payment.  And, they are quite large fines. I suppose the good thing is that being an unpaid volunteer, the Diocese couldn't deduct it from my salary!

If my visa is approved next week, then I have plans to have some work done on a house next door and move in by the end of the year.  Will be nice to create a ‘home’ whilst I am in Rwanda and to furnish it (you can get furniture made quite cheaply here) and to use of some of the lovely colourful African crafts - all those things that work here but never look quite right when you get them home. It will also be good to put some of my energy into a more practical and creative project.

I’ve spoken (or written) too soon about it being sunny and warm as it is now chucking it down and I've got to walk to town to get some shopping. Getting rains most days now and we are well and truly in the wet season but still get moments of sunshine and warmth.  Modeste has just sprayed the house with some foul smelling insect repellant so I think I’m stuck out on the terrace for a bit longer.

Back to the city

Rwandese dancers - no relevance to post but like to start with a picture!

Here I am back in Kigali, sooner than I’d planned. Decided it would be a good idea, or so I thought, to come up to the city to process my visa/permit application following my unsatisfactory attempt at trying to do it in Kamembe. Well, I am going back to Kamembe not having had much success in getting it done here either but now have a useful contact through my Rwandese brother, Charles Semwaga, who came to my rescue when I met him in Kigali following my visit to the Immigration Office.

When Charles starts off by saying “My brother, let me tell you something…”, I know some words of wisdom and advice are coming and they do.  Charles really understands how things work here and, perhaps more importantly, how the Rwandese and Muzungus relate to one another.  So it is a lesson for me, maybe a humbling one but just another thing I need to understand and learn as part of my journey here in Rwanda.

Having come back to this blog post to review and edit it, I have decided to change it as when I wrote it, yesterday in Kigali, it seemed to be a good excuse to have a rant about the frustrations I am going through to get my visa/permit sorted. Decided it makes rather boring reading and I am coming to accept, rather than just understand, there are reasons for why things are done here in the way they are so I really just have to stay patient, don’t get so indignant and don’t think things are going to change because I don’t like the fact that it could all be easier if they did things in a different way.

On a more positive note, coming to Kigali again I still marvel at the developments in the city.  Sitting in a new shopping centre on Friday afternoon, I just people watched and strolled around some of the new ‘designer’ stores – there’s even an Apple reseller now (the technology and not the fruit type!) and a number of fashion outlets selling very expensive clothes but without any shoppers and quite a few bored looking shop assistants. 

Christmas comes early to Kigali

Saturday was ‘Umuganda’ or community workday that takes place across the country on the last Saturday of each month. The public are required to do some practical work in their Umudugudu (not easy to say), a community sub-division of around 10 houses. Rwanda is made up of five provinces, with each province split into districts, then sectors (like Kamembe) and then cells, each run by either a governor, mayor, community leader, all the way down to an Umudugudu. The government has decentralised a lot of control to encourage people to take responsibility for their community and to work alongside one another.

Staff at Peace Guest House were busy working together on clearing and improving a small plot of land at the entrance. Some staff, who live outside the Guest House, have to be given letters to give to their community leaders to explain why they are not available to take part in Umuganda in their community so there are very strict rules and regulations.

Kigali, as a result, was deserted on Saturday with very little traffic on the roads and with security patrols checking cars and buses to see, I assume, why people were not doing Umuganda.

Saturday morning rush hour in Kigali!

Stopping & checking buses in Kigali

This week I will say goodbye to Tony, Daniele, Rob, Jan, Ian and Mary as they head back to the UK. Have just met a lovely young couple, Julie and Tim, from the UK – Tim is related to a couple in my church and Julie is here, in Rwanda, for a few months whilst Tim has come to visit.  They are just up the lake and came down for lunch at the Guest House – realise it is a small world.

I come across many interesting people who come to Rwanda to work in some form or another. It’s always interesting to find out what they are up to – I met one chap in Kigali who is going research into the SME (Small, Medium Enterprise) market here in Rwanda and why more SME businesses are not developing; sat next to a young Chinese man at the Immigration Office who is working here in the construction business whilst on my other side was a Chinese woman involved in solar panels.

Guest House annexe being built

I take the occasional look, over the wall of the Guest House, to see how work is progressing on the annexe being built.  The basement, or cave as they call it, has been built and I noticed, the other day, an army of casual workers (men and women) had arrived to help out. All the work on the annexe is done by hand, the slope of land was dug by hand which in itself is an amazing feat; the rocks, cement and sand were all brought onto the site by hand and there is no sight or sound or any mechanical digger or machinery of any kind. As usual, heads come in very useful!

Army of workers

Escape to the City

City colour

Arrived yesterday for a few days in Kigali – feel like the country boy coming, all wide-eyed into the big city.  Have come to see friends, Rob, Jan, Ian and Mary from Lewes who are here, in Rwanda, for a few weeks.

The longer I am in Rwanda, I am learning more about my ‘tiredness and time to have a break from Kamembe threshold’ so having a few days here, and seeing friends, is very timely.  Also discovering the joy of having hand delivered ‘goody-bags’ from home containing all sorts of things including shortbread, chocolate, marmalade, DVDs of some of the great US TV series that I never seem to had time to watch when I was in the UK, interdents (those little brushes for cleaning your teeth) and light bulbs!  And, cards too – something lovely about getting hand-written cards from home.

City dawn

Opened my bedroom door yesterday morning to discover English newspapers left there by Ian and Mary – first ones I have seen since coming back here, from the UK, after my break at beginning of August. Muesli for breakfast, a cappuccino and chocolate croissant, at Café Bourbon as well as a pizza in an Italian restaurant have all made me feel very satisfied.

I have been having a busy few weeks hence the gap in writing my blog. My work at the guesthouse continues to be varied and at moment battling with trying to put together 22 new staff job descriptions, contracts both in English and Kinyarwandan and taking into account the Rwandese Labour Laws.  I am also trying to introduce a personnel policy, implement a renovation programme across 14 of the 20 rooms and the dining room, keep an eye on the building progress of the new guesthouse annexe next door (took me two hours to fully understand what was actually being built after pouring over plans that didn’t make much sense), taking 3 English lessons a week for the staff, support the implementation of a micro-finance project, arrange visits from the UK for church and mission groups/visitors, set-up links between Rwandese and UK Schools, trying to arrange a cow to be donated to an island and trying to look at how the guest house can buy 1000 chickens, for the Diocese farm, so that we can get a regular supply of eggs and I can have my fried eggs for breakfast.

Despite the workload, I am enjoying it. I’m finding I’m drawing on all my years of work and business experience and the skills, that at time never seemed to be that appreciated or valued at home but here, even though I don’t get paid for what I do, the difference I feel I am able to make is all worth it.  Not just in my day-to-day work but also in other ways I am able to support people through preaching, listening when I have some late night visitors at the house who want to talk about problems they are facing.

No two days are the same. The other week I went for a meeting to the neighbouring Diocese of Kigeme, a two and half drive through the Nyungwe Forest.  Quite a hard journey when you do it once in a day but even harder when you do it twice but coming back the sun was going down, in some places we were above cloud level daily so quite breathtaking. The public buses that come down each day, from Kigali, drive through the forest at quite a fast speed, despite the twists and turns in the roads, the ascents and descents and the potholes  – not easy if you suffer from travel sickness and I hear that some of the Rwandese passengers throw up and even start to cry as the journey through the forest goes on and on and they fear going to this strange land on the other side.

Driving back from Kigeme through Nyungwe

I am also experiencing the extremes of Rwandese hospitality – from the good to the bad. When the rains come, you don’t always get a lot of warning and the other Saturday, I got caught in town when the heavens opened and the couple of Rwandans I was with ran for cover into someone’s house.  We ended up sitting in a rather dark but large sitting room with sofas and armchairs and when my eyes had adjusted to the light, I noticed a man sitting on one of the sofas. I assumed, the people I was with, knew the family but they didn’t – it’s just what you do here, run into a stranger’s house for shelter!

Can you imagine this happening in the UK?  You’d be lucky if someone opened up their door let alone let you in and if they did you’d need to have CRB check. Bernadette, one of the Rwandans I was with, then lay on one of the sofas and went to sleep and it didn’t take long for all the children to appear and the elderly grandmother brought in to see the muzungu in their sitting room.  Once it stopped raining, we just upped and went - a wonderful example of Rwandese hospitality.

At the other end of the scale, I have just started the process of applying for my work/permit visa – have just over four weeks before my permitted time of being allowed here for 3 months comes to an end.  Admit I have started the process rather late and after my visit to the local Immigration Office, earlier this week, I am wishing I should have started it earlier.

The immigration website says it only takes 5 days so I was thinking that was fine except when I visited the office and was faced with bureaucracy and officialdom at its worse, I know the application process is going to take much longer. Admitting I had been here since May, although with a three week break to return the UK in the summer, I was accused of working illegally and was told I would have to pay fine of RWF200k (around £200). I was then told my police clearance papers were out of date and that I needed to produce certificates for my educational qualifications taken nearly 40 years ago.  I can just about remember what ‘O’ and ‘A’ levels I got, let alone what grades I got and not even sure if I still have the certificates and, if I do, they are likely to be in boxes in storage in the UK.

Patronising, condescending, unfriendly, officious are some of the words that came to mind but I thought I was very restrained, stayed calm and patient and realised, had I been in this situation when I first arrived in Rwanda, I probably would have stuck two fingers up at them, walked out of the office and got the first plane home.

Anyway, the process continues and I need to spend the next few days re-writing my CV, compiling a very nice application letter and making sure I have everything in place so that the application can be processed although it may involve coming back to Kigali to get it sorted. Not sure what happens if I don’t get the visa/permit in place by 12^th November (deadline date) – may have to come home for a while, go to Uganda for a time or pay a fine.  Calling on support from people here to help me go through the process so watch this space.

Early morning at Peace Guest House

Following a lull in the heavy rains, these are now back. My stays for a few days in the week at the guesthouse, to avoid the evening heavy rains and a difficult walk home, allow me to attend a staff worship session at 7am each morning. All the staff meet to worship and pray before the day – they have lovely voices accompanied by an African drum, someone knocking together two pieces of wood and shaking some metal boxes that make the sound of maracas. I find it humbling that they come together and share some of their problems – sickness, difficulties in the family and on days, when the guesthouse is quiet, they pray for guests and then give thanks when guests start to arrive. They make me feel really welcome and always expect the ‘General Manager’ to say something and I love the sense of togetherness that we have in the morning slot irrespective of our roles and positions.

I continue to learn about the Rwandese every day as much as I try to learn more about myself.  Yes, I still have moments of frustration but I am getting much better of dealing with these and just learn to be more patient.  The reality is that everything just takes longer – going to the bank and waiting in the queue although sometimes the muzungu gets preferential treatment and is taken to the front of the queue which people don’t seem to mind about although I am the first to speak out if I see someone queue jumping.  Trying to buy electricity is an effort, particularly when you realise the meter has almost run out despite recently topping it with enough money to run the national grid only to discover the network is down and you have to wait for a few hours before they text you the code to tap into your meter.

Anyway, enjoying the city experience, meeting both my muzungu and Rwandese friends as well as seeing Enock, a lovely Ugandan young guy, who came to spend a year in Lewes a while back. City life is so different from the poorer rural areas that you could be in two different countries. The desire for designer brands is growing here, evident by a lady sitting in front of me in church this morning with a rather large Prada handbag. A few years ago, global brands were virtually non-existent here but today they are a sign of growing wealth and prosperity here in Kigali – hard to reconcile with some of the very poor people and families I come across in the southwest of the country.

Sign of development in Kigali

On Tuesday, will leave the city and start the five-hour drive back through the forest to that strange, but lovely land beyond that has become my home.