Strange goings on in the forest

Saturday started with a plan. I was going to have a nice, quiet, relaxing day in the house, the first for some weeks, but as I have learnt plans here don’t always go according to plan.

I sent one of my guards out to get some airtime for my Internet connection and became quite concerned he hadn’t returned after about 30 minutes, when he should have only been gone a few minutes.  Two of the Bishop’s staff, who are in a house a short distance away, then came to tell me that he had been arrested and taken to prison due, to it seems, for buying tobacco for some passing prisoners who were going to do some community work.  Anyway, after a few phone calls to ask people what I should do, my guard returned looking a bit sheepish but probably a lesson learnt. Think he was concerned as I think he tried to explain that ‘Madam’, his wife, was expecting (lost count how many children he has – think this will be number 7) by the gestures he was making to his stomach so guess she wouldn’t be too happy if her husband ended up in the nick. Although, last time I thought he told me his wife was expecting it turned out to be their cow so I may have got it wrong!

Early morning mists in the Nyungwe

This week the news here has all been about the Nyungwe Forest. A priest from the Catholic Diocese of Cyangugu, who was also their Chief Accountant, was found dead in his car in the forest – foul play was suspected.  And then, news of a bus crash early one morning with first reports saying seven people killed but since heard only it was only one. The first buses leave here at 3am in the morning to get to Kigali at 8am so driving fast through the forest in darkness, often when it is raining with mists hanging low over the roads makes for a challenging journey.However, always difficult to really find out what has happened as so much gossip flies around the ‘Cyangugu Grapevine’.

Boniface, who works here at the Diocese, left later that morning for Kigali as he is getting married today and he could quite easily have been on that bus as many staff use it. Emmanuel, Peace Guest Manager, had taken the 3am bus a couple of days earlier. I have been up and down to Kigali a lot recently on the public buses so a bit concerning.

I’ve been getting used now to the  six hour bus journey up and down to the city. The journey always start with an argument on the bus, as passengers have sat in the wrong numbered seats – if only they sat in the right seat then it would be so easy.  Everyone seems to get involved, except the muzungu who just sits and observes.  The last two drivers have driven exceptionally fast as if they are on a bonus to reach Kigali or Kamembe in record time – perhaps they are.

Driving through the forest you often see it littered with lorries that have come off the road, or overturned as their brakes or something else mechanical has failed. This is the only road, through Rwanda, to Bukavu in the DRC so many big lorries use it coming from Uganda, Kenya and Tanzania – it is a real test of the vehicles road worthiness and judging by the lorries that don’t make it, many aren’t fit to be on the road.

One happy Muzungu reunited with his passport after three months

With the news that I had finally, after four months, got my visa and my passport back I was able to attend a CMS Conference in Nairobi last week.  CMS (Church Mission Society) is the organisation I have come out here with and the conference was the bringing together of CMS and CMS Africa and many mission partners from Rwanda, Uganda, DRC, Burundi, Kenya, Tanzania, South Sudan and Ethiopia.

The pink Rosa Mystica complete with shrimps

Apart from an overnight stay in Nairobi, due to my return flight to London going technical a couple of years ago; this was my first proper visit to the city. Spent most of the week in the rather strangely named ‘Rosa Mystica Spiritual Centre', more like somewhere you go for tarot card reading and fortune telling – a pink, almost art-deco looking building with strange, shrimp like, carvings around the windows. It is located in a secure compound with high-walls, guards and even electric fences as much of the buildings of Nairobi are.

There was an opportunity to visit some projects in Nairobi and I visited one in Soweto slum that was a very enterprising church community project comprising of a school, church, carpentry & joinery workshop, bio-kitchen gardening, soap & detergent making, tailoring, bio-gas project and a water supply project.  Most of the buildings were made of corrugated iron and tin but it showed you what could be done in these slum communities with no big school or church buildings.  The senior Pastor gave up a good job in the city to come and work here.

Soweto slum, Nairobi

School children playing in Soweto

There were conflicting reports of the number of people who live in the Nairobi slums – I was told 70% of the 4 million city population but someone else said it was only 40% but I have since read it is 60%. Soweto slum has around 200,000 people living there but Kibera, the one that most people know, has around 1,000,000.

One of the most noticeable things coming to Nairobi, having been in Kigali, other than the amount of traffic at rush hour, is the rubbish.  Kigali, and Rwanda, is spotless in comparison and its ban on plastic bags certainly contributes to its cleanliness.

Going nowhere fast in Nairobi

The great thing about my time in Nairobi was meeting up with some people I got to know last summer, when I came back to the UK for mission training and the many new people that were involved in very interesting projects across the range of countries that were represented.

I struck up a conversation with a young man who was at the conference to look after the audio-visual. He told me that he had been a street boy living on the streets as his parents were constantly fighting and his father was always drunk. He had been rescued by a muzungu through an organisation that was supporting the street children, was able to go to school and get a job. He had since gone home to visit and his father had now stopped drinking and things between his parents were a lot better. A heartening story.

From street boy to professional young man

In between looking after a team from the UK, who left Rwanda just before I went to Nairobi, I came back to Kigali to attend the wedding of Enid Kanyana, the Assistant Manager at the guest house and husband Steven Musoni.  They had married in a civil ceremony two weeks earlier as the church, here in Rwanda, cannot legally marry couples. The day started with the ‘giveaway’ ceremony followed by the church ceremony and then the reception which was much more like another ceremony – this is then followed by a smaller, family ceremony so by the end of the day the bride and groom must be ready for bed!

As I’ve said before, in this blog, the thing I love about being here is the observations I make about the cultural differences between Rwanda and the UK and going to these ceremonies allowed me to observe a traditional Rwandese wedding and all its customs.

The invitation announced that the giveaway would start at 9am so I, with a few others, was there on time.  The setting was in some lovely shaded gardens in a small guest house in Kigali with two marquees set-up facing each other – one for the bride’s family and friends and one for the groom’s or should it be wife’s and husband’s as they were already married.  There was then a smaller, more ornate marquee between the two where the bride, groom and attendants sat.

Two hours later, the ceremony started. Waiting for those two hours, I was trying to understand how they knew when it was going to start – the grooms marquee was empty whilst the bride’s started to fill up but then all the groom’s family and friends entered together as they had to be invited by the bride’s family to attend the ceremony.

It made me think about English weddings that not only start on time but normally guests arrive an hour early.

The giveaway is the traditional ceremony where the bride’s family gives her away to the groom – it is also where the dowry is given and I was a bit disappointed when no cows appeared as today money is the common form of a dowry. Elders of the family made lots of speeches, there was lots of giving of bottles of non-alcoholic drink and Fantas, some other ritual where the groom places a hat on someone’s head and the bridal party arrived accompanied by singers and dancers.

Steven & Enid at the Giveaway

All very beautiful but rather solemn with no smiling bride – this worried me a bit but I was assured it was quite normal. The ceremony was over quite quickly and then there was time to change before moving onto the church.  As I had decided to save my suit and tie to the afternoon church and reception, I went back to where I was staying to get changed and due to heavy traffic and getting confused where I had to go to pick-up the Bishop’s wife, Esther and her son, Jonathan, we arrived at the service late.  I wasn’t too worried as I thought, following the giveaway, it would start late but I was wrong, it had started on time.

Kigali can get very hot and under a tin roof, in suit, shirt and tie it can get even hotter.  Strangely, the bride and groom and attendants sat on one side and not at the front so I couldn’t really see them for much of the service until the time they exchanged rings.

It was then onto the reception located in some lovely gardens just on the edge of the city. Again, marquees had been set-up located on the hillside but just after we arrived there was a rumble of thunder, strikes of lightning and a strong wind built up.  The guests who had arrived, ran for shelter under the marquees but rather scarily we realised that, with the strength of the wind, they were in danger of being blown away so many of the guests had to hold onto the metal structures. Once the wind had subsided, we made a dash back to the cars and waited until, finally, the rain stopped.

Holding onto the marquee to stop it blowing away

I was pleased to see the bride and groom get out of the car but then realised it wasn’t Enid and Steven and thought, for a moment, we had come to the wrong wedding reception until someone told me that the used the gardens for lots of wedding photos.

The reception, more of a ceremony, was very similar to the giveaway – lots of speeches, more Fanta, presentation of the gifts and some frenzied dancing for a few minutes, For that to happen at a UK reception, the guests would have had to down large quantities of alcohol, as they often do, so not bad they managed it here on a bottle of Fanta!

Interesting that the brides and grooms families and friends do not mix - there is a very distinct separation with us all sitting there looking at one another.  Then there is the customary cutting of the cake with layers given to various family members and friends. 

Before the wedding, I set myself a task to buy a new white shirt as the ones I have, have turned a shade of yellow. Trying to buy a plain white shirt didn’t turn out to be an easy task – the first shop tried to sell me once that had a collar size of 18.5 (I’m a 16 but think my next has now shrunk to a 15.5) trying to convince me that it would fit. I noticed that all the size were X-Large and no, I didn’t want one with red buttons or flower prints around the cuffs and collars – "I just want a plain white shirt" I said.

Next stop was a shop in Kigali Tower with their brand new shops that, sadly, some had closed down since my last visit.  This shop too had all sorts in x-large but the young chap was very persistent in trying to find me a shirt – the first one was far too big around the collar even though he was trying to convince me that it was OK – he had even persuaded me to try it with a tie and a jacket.  He rummaged around in some drawers and pulled out a shirt that I tried on and it fitted.  I was paying over the odds for it (at least a month’s salary for some of the PGH staff) but I thought I could not face going anywhere else so bought it – I think I may have been his only customer of the day so I did take pity on him.  Found out his family live in Cyangugu so we exchanged numbers, I promised I will go back to his shop when I am next in Kigali and I left with a white shirt and another new friend!

The team I mentioned earlier had a wonderful time here in Rwanda and was transformed by the experience of being here.  I enjoy so much showing people this beautiful country, who come for the first time, and to see how being here changes them and knowing many will come back.  Interesting to see how nervous they seem at the beginning, as not sure what to expect or what they may catch so always there is the smell of hand-gel in the daytime and mosquito repellent in the evening!

Now I have my passport back, I am now able to return to the UK and have booked my flight to come back on 30^th March for a month. Only four weeks to go – not that I am counting but I am looking forward to seeing family and friends, not to mention my four- legged friend, again.

The Bishop's Socks

Christmas Day - Rwanda 2013

So that was Christmas.  Here, it was over in a flash – it arrived on Christmas Eve with a few trees and decorations appearing (probably having arrived in a container lorry) and by Christmas Day it was over. No commercialism, no hype, no endless TV advertising but also, sadly, no carols, turkey, mince-pies or green triangles from a large tin of Quality Street.  Yes, I did miss it.

Christmas lunch was rice, beans, matoke (cooking bananas), meat and the customary Fanta but I enjoyed it all eating with some of the guesthouse staff who themselves were far from home and, for some, the first time they had stepped inside the restaurant – not to mention having lunch with the General Manager! Have to say I did take myself off the next day to a very nice little hotel down the road and treated myself to a more western style lunch.

New Year is the bigger event here, they kept telling me but even that was nothing to write home about and for me it was home alone and an early night!  Went into the bank today and they still had their tree up and I tried to explain about Twelfth Night, Epiphany, The Three Kings or just bad luck if you leave your decorations up (is it?) but they didn’t really get it. Maybe, they are just making up for the fact they put everything up so late but it does feel odd, being here in the sun and warmth, still seeing trees and decorations and having no sense that Christmas really happened.

Morning rush hour on Lake Kivu - January 2014

So, we are into a New Year and I am starting 2014 where I ended 2013 with my visa saga!  And what a saga it has become but I am pleased to say, finally, I can laugh about it. The latest, and I will keep it short as I feel I am boring everyone with the story now, is Immigration insisted I produce a new Police Clearance Certificate from the UK and to get this by 31^st January.  The slightly crazy thing is they ask for a PCC “from the country that you have lived in for the last six months” which technically is Rwanda but I have given up trying to be technical about anything to do with this process and just do as I am told. 

They did say, just after Christmas, they would give me three-month temporary visa but backdated to 1^st November 2013 so leaving me very little time. Had to send papers back to the UK, using DHL and have had to plan it like a military operation so I can get the certificate sent to me in Kigali so I can go there to pick-it up, go to Immigration with my £100.00 fee for the visa and hey-presto they will give me my passport complete with visa/permit or I have got it wrong and they do want a PCC from Rwanda and not the UK!

I am now tracking the progress of my DHL shipment via the website – it went from Kamembe to Kigali by bus (that bit wasn’t tracked) and there seemed a delay before anything began to appear on DHL.com, so I began to wonder if it was still sitting on the desk at the DHL office here, but then I could see it had reached Kigali, had been sent to Nairobi and is now at Heathrow.  I think next stop in Gatwick and then, hopefully, Lewes and Baron’s Down Road.

I had to make 4 trips to the DHL office here as I am learning it is always good to do a preliminary trip for something important so you can find out when the office is open or closed and what is actually needed if a process is involved, how much it will cost and that kind of thing.  Also, I have learnt that it is good to get to know someone first, have a bit of  a chit-chat and not do the muzungu thing of diving straight in to get something done.

The first two trips proved fruitless as the office was shut and there was no answer to the mobile number that was on the door – I later found out, when the office was open, that the Congolese staff working there had gone back across the border to the DRC as rumours had emerged on social media that Paul Kagame, the Rwandan President, had been assassinated in the DRC – fortunately, the rumours were false. I discovered that the DHL staff member only spoke French or Swahili and I was a bit perturbed when she didn’t seem to know where either England or the UK were but with the help of Jimmy, the Bishop’s driver, who speaks Swahili, we managed to get the shipment sent off.

So, now I have to wait but good to have some respite as this process has really taken over my life in the last few months.  I have been given some hope in that the new British High Commissioner to Rwanda has heard of my plight and I can now contact his secretary for support if my next visit to Immigration proves problematical.

I am now beginning to look ahead to coming back to the UK, at the end of March for a month’s holiday.  Not exactly counting down the weeks but feel in need of a break and having a MOT – check my teeth are ok, have a few top ups on vaccinations and also to find out if being on anti-malarial tablets for a year are causing me any problems. Feel my diet is lacking a few things and really missing things like cereal but a packet here costs around £5.00 and I don’t feel I can justify paying that when it is a quarter of someone’s monthly wage.

Recent visitors from Virginia USA

This one tried to get in on the photo!

Before all that, have a busy few months coming up. Quite a few visitors coming here from UK and USA and have a group of 14 I’m looking after for a couple of weeks in February.  Then I head off to Nairobi, for a week’s conference with CMS, the Mission organisation I am here with, then I come back here for a month before I head home.

There is much excitement in the guest house as we have two staff weddings coming up. Enid, our Assistant Manager, is getting married in Kigali on 8^th February followed shortly by Boniface, Development Manager, on 1^st March.  It’s interesting getting to understand the wedding culture here – the groom has to give a dowry to the bride’s father which used to be a cow or two but now it’s money; then there is the civil ceremony that can happen a few weeks before, followed by the presentation of the groom to the bride’s family (hope they like him!), then there is the giveaway ceremony where the bride’s family formerly give their daughter away and then, finally, there is the church white wedding followed by the honeymoon. Lots of embarrassed laughter when you talk about this bit – think it is a big thing for them when the husband has much to prove!

What happens at the reception has made me laugh as so far removed from what happens in the UK.  Apparently, anyone can turn up – even people walking past can just join the reception and they are usually the first ones who eat the food!  It is seen to be rude not to allow them to come in and also not the thing to have someone at the door checking their names and turning them away.  In the UK we would have no hesitation in going up to someone, who wasn’t invited, and asking him or her to leave.

I think learning and understanding about the cultural differences is the great thing about being here and to see how each culture will approach and deal with a situation.

There are many moments I enjoy observing such as going to the Bishop’s house in the morning, if on some days we drive down together to the guest house, and he is still in bare feet with their ‘housekeeper’ trying to find him a dry pair of socks or the concern so many people had recently when I had a flu-type bug. Nothing serious but everyone was worried that I had malaria but nothing that a paracetamol or two couldn’t cure so stream of visitors checking I was OK – lovely moment when Esther, Bishop Nathan’s wife, came with two of her children to bring me lunch and they entered the house each carrying a pot looking like the three wise men – actually, it was on 6^th January so some relevance there!

Picking tea just outside the Nyungwe Forest

Have been doing quite a bit of driving recently taking some of the visitors to the Nyungwe Forest or down to the Hot Springs.  Never quite sure what Diocesan vehicle I will get to drive – the Land Rover Discovery or the Toyota Land Cruiser. Both quite old, one left hand drive, one right hand (although I’ve been here long enough that I don’t have to check myself all the time that they drive on the right here) but after a while you get used to how they each handle the roads and which work better in first or second gear going up a steep incline. I made a complete hash of trying to get the Discovery out of the Bishop’s compound and up and around a very steep and rocky incline with ditches either side – took me several attempts much to the amusement of the security guards. However, in my defence I did do it in one go in the Land Cruiser.

Driving at night is quite a challenge here, particularly when you can’t work out how to turn the headlights on, as I forget what vehicle I am in and then feeling quite stupid when you find out how they come on!  Some drive with headlights on, some with full-beam so you get blinded, some with no headlights on at all or suddenly turn them on at the last minute blinding you in the process. And, people walking everywhere in the dark with no torches and sometimes all you see is the glow of a mobile phone.

Have now been asked to take part in ‘Umuganda’ the community workday – think they noticed I was not doing this so someone respectfully suggested I should do it.  I did the first one at the end of December, where we tidied up the gardens of the local genocide memorial near the house. Some 10,000 bodies here so a sudden reminder of those events in 1994 – Rwanda is having its 20 year memorial week this April. A few trees where suddenly chopped down nearly falling on me as I was concentrating on doing some weeding, so a new bridge could be built to allow vehicles to get across a big ditch into the memorial. 

At the end, everyone sits for a meeting and the local “cell’ leader talks about the community and reminds people to have health insurance or to start paying rent for the land that their house is on.  I understand that the government gave land to people after the genocide but are now asking people to pay rent – not easy for some people as they earn so little and struggle to find school fees and money for uniforms and books.

It’s a good way for the “muzungu” to get to know people in the community and to understand more of the problems they face here – life is not easy for many of them.

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?