All roads lead to Kigali

Two weeks ago, I left Cyangugu after two years to move to Kigali to live and work for the next six months. 

From Cyangugu local colour

To Kigali local colour

A sad time, as I said farewell to all my friends in Cyangugu and now a period of adjustment to a very different life in the city.  Getting used to walking on pavements, crossing the road at traffic lights and trying to stop the traffic on their zebra crossings are some of the challenges although adapting, very easily, to the growing coffee shop culture so often I find myself in one for a cappuccino or latte - not to mention a chocolate brownie or two!

I thought this may have been a reflective blog post as I come to the end of my two year mission in Cyangugu but realise I need time process and really think about my time there. Also, I don’t feel this is the end of my mission in Rwanda as I want to see what Kigali has in store for me as I experience life in the city and think about the future.

My visa expires at the end of October so I will need to come to a decision about what happens after that – returning to the UK to face a British winter doesn’t really grab me at the moment so will see what happens over the next few months. Fortunately, I am only a short distance from the Immigration Office so convenient for me to go and see them and ask about the possibility of extending my visa although the long and painful task of getting my visa in the first place still lingers in the back of mind.

Although, I have leant to deal with many things here, with patience and keeping my mouth shut, sadly, I still struggle dealing with the beaurocracy here and the paperwork, formalities and rubber stamping that goes with it!

Naturally, it felt very sad to say goodbye to all my friends in Cyangugu and, particularly, all the lovely staff at Peace Guest House - tears were shed, mainly mine! Two weeks before I left Jane, who works in the restaurant, said “General Manager, the staff are going to miss you – they have started crying already!” I miss the friendly smiles of welcome each morning when I used to arrive for work and how, after my long walk from the house, one of the guards walks up the drive to meet me with a huge beaming smile and taking my bags from me.  No matter what was going on, the staff gave everyone a warm welcome and their smiles so often lit up the place.

Goodbye General Manager!

I left without the Rwandan tradition of a farewell party which, as you guess, is one of many speeches and Fanta!  I said this could wait until later in the year, once my plans are clearer and as I will be going back to visit, at least once a month, it seemed strange to have a farewell party and then turn up again in a few weeks time.

There, there Wilson - I'm coming back soon!

Here in Kigali I am living and working at Solace Ministries, a partner of my church since 2007, when we started coming to Rwanda with teams.  Solace has an income generating guesthouse, where teams used to stay and still do, so I will be supporting them to make improvements although, having been here for two weeks and observing the ways things run, I see it runs very well.  In addition, I am going to support them to plan a series of events to celebrate their 20^th anniversary in September this year and I will continue to support Peace Guest House and the Diocese in some activities.

Solace Ministries was set-up after the genocide by Jean Gakwandi, himself a genocide survivor, who wanted to support widows and orphans by offering counselling and support.  Solace has grown, over the years, to offer a range of programmes including counselling, income generating acitivities, community based development, health, sponsorship and much more. Many of the staff who work here are themselves genocide survivors and it is good to be part of an active and healing ministry. Take a look at their website to find out more http://www.solacem.org/

It is in a good location with access to the city centre, a nice hotel next door with a swimming pool that I have started to use and as I only have to walk downstairs to work or into my office next to my bedroom, I need to keep fit.  I’ve started a running routine and have done a few early morning runs and a couple of night runs as these are the coolest times of the day – fortunately, the area around here is quite flat so I don’t have lots of hills to run up.

My walk to work!

Looking out of my office window I thought this was a good way to bring the washing in

Running last night along the main street near Solace which is home to the British, US and other country embassies as well as the President’s Office and government offices, I was able to run on well lit pavements.  However, in doubling back down what is a  very nice road in the day time, I realised how dark it was at night and discovered a few things:

1. ·         It’s not good to run at night without a torch
2. ·         Don’t try and run and look at the lights of the city even though they look very beautiful – someone described Kigali at night as a “blanket of stars” and I quite agree
3. ·       Not all motorbike riders have their headlights on
4. ·       The holes in the road and the rain water gullies are not as easy to see in the dark as they are during the day
5. ·       There are low hanging branches that come out of nowhere and smack you in the face – I did let out a rather loud expletive at one point when I discovered that one branch was covered in thorns
6. ·       Beware of young children who decide to run with you so you feel like the Pied Piper of Hamlyn - sometimes they are amusing and other times irritating (sorry kids)
7. ·       Don’t wear a black t-shirt and jogging pants at night

All part of the learning curve of being here and trying to keep fit.

Looking back at when my last post was which was February, I thought I’d just update you on my last few months in Cyangugu.

In the time I had been there, I met many people and some of these have had a big impact on my life.  In April, the lady with HIV/AIDS sadly died after a long and painful illness – having visited her almost each month for the last year, I was able to witness what a dreadful illness this is and to see how slowly her body turned into a living skeleton. In the last few weeks her bones became so brittle that they would break when her carers washed her.  There seemed nothing anything could do other than wait for her to die. I asked someone why she wasn’t given morphine but something they don’t to here so indeed it was a blessing when she, finally, passed away. A short time before, she had asked for the Archdeacon and Pastors to visit her to give her Holy Communion so I guess she knew the time was near.

She was given a lovely service followed by a burial under some trees, just outside town. Her simple wooden coffin seemed to be made for someone of about 6ft 5in and thinking of how small she was, at the end, they could have fitted three of her in there.  She was buried to the sound of the Rwandans singing which was lovely to hear – I mentioned, in an earlier post that Rwandans sing on every occasion.

Shortly afterwards, I met up with young mother who lost her baby last year. She is now going to school and looked happy and smiling.  It felt that some of these situations that I been involved in seemed to be coming to a conclusion as I too was concluding my time.

In complete contrast, as often it is the way here, I had to deal with a rather tricky situation at the guesthouse which I called the “The Mysterious Case of the Vanishing Chocolate”. Left by some guests in the refrigerator, in the kitchen, they were certain some had gone missing and sadly accused the staff of taking it. I think some may have been pointing the figure at the General Manager due to his lack of getting chocolate!  After much discussion and investigation it was difficult to prove that it had gone missing or, in fact, had been taken by staff but the situation calmed down and the guests left happy.  They were pleased that we took things seriously and at least tried to deal with it.

Sadly, from my many years of experience in the event business and working in the hotels it always seems to be the hotel staff that are accused when something goes missing when, 99% of the time it is the guests who have lost something or mislaid an item that turns up later at some point. Here in Rwanda, during the years I have been here, I have not known anything to be stolen from any guesthouse or hotel I have stayed in.

Whilst trying to diffuse the situation, I was visited by a lady whose son has been supported by an educational fund I have established that supports children to go to school – see more about this at the end of the blog. The lady, a widow with one son, brought me a gift as she had heard that I was shortly leaving - she started to cry and when she presented the gift she got down on her knees. The “Mysterious Case of the Vanishing Chocolate” paled into insignificance.

In April, Rwanda remembered the Genocide of 1994 – ‘Kwibuka 21’(Remember). There was a week of memorial events around the country starting on 7^th April and I was asked to attend a ceremony at a local genocide memorial site, near to the house that had been recently rebuilt. Around 200 people walked in silence and into the building that had the mass graves each lit with a single candle – after prayers and speeches, a small bunch of white flowers were put on each grave.

 

The 'new' Genocide Memorial in Cyangugu

We then walked to the local stadium where around 300 people gathered.  Being the only muzungu I was invited to sit with the VIPs so facing all the people.  A ‘national’ speech was read out, prepared by the Government and was being read to all the meetings taking place around the country, followed by testimonies, singing and further speeches before we tuned in to a rather crackly radio broadcast to hear the President’s speech.

Mention was made to the way the West took no notice of what was going on in Rwanda in the early days of April 1994 due, partly, to the UN failing to recognise that a genocide was taking place and also of the recent BBC documentary that has caused so much upset here Rwanda.  Thankfully, the mood was lightened by Gail, the three year old daughter of Jonas who lives with me, coming to sit on my lap and proceeding to remove her dress but, thankfully, nothing else!

I have often thought whether this national memorial week should still continue after 21 years but I felt, standing in the genocide memorial, that this was not about another country at war with Rwanda but the Rwandans at war with one other – neighbour against neighbour, friend against friend.  I still find it hard, as I am sure many others do, to understand how something like this could have happened in a country so beautiful with people so friendly.  Standing in the memorial, I can understand the necessity of this annual, national remembrance as a reminder, for so many, of what happened and the lessons that have been learnt.  Forgiveness and reconciliation has been such a big part of the work that has gone on here and still does.

Living as I have done with, amongst Rwandans, to me it is not important about what ethnic group they come from and something that I don’t think about.

At the moment, we are seeing and hearing the troubles that are going on in Burundi - strange to think the country is only a few hours away and worrying to know that ethnic tensions could start and some of these may spill over into Rwanda.  However, I am relieved to be in a country that is well organised, law abiding and where one feels safe walking (or running) around the streets at night – visitors here, for the first time, are often worried about the military and police presence they see on the streets but they are just part of the security measures here and I have never felt concerned or worried.

People do ask me what are the lessons I have learnt being here for two years. I guess in short, I have learnt the value of serving – putting other people’s interests before my own and trying to lead a life that is less about me. It’s allowed me to think about what is it I have that I can give to others and I’m not talking about money – I guess its allowed me to discover a more compassionate side of me that I sort of knew I had but back in the UK wasn’t allowed or couldn’t show it. Many people here say I have a kind heart and again that’s not about giving them money but trying to come alongside them in their struggles and pain and to find a way to help them.

I haven't talked a lot about my Christian faith on this blog but can say my faith has been deepened and strengthened by being here. It gives me a way to put my faith into words and action.  Living and working with people who show a deep faith and put their faith and trust in God, when they have so little, helps and strengthens me and at times when I am struggling or feeling tired.

On one of my walks around the back of Solace, I came past a bit of graffiti that someone has written on a piece of old corrugated iron “God loves you”. I was really struck by this and went back this morning to take a photo – it made me think about how we are like this piece of old corrugated iron, broken, bent, rusty, flawed and despite all this God still loves us.

Here, I’ve not had to worry about how much salary I need to earn (as I don’t earn one!), about my future career or ambition – it’s been good to have a break from all this although when I return to the UK at some point in the future I can see all this coming back into my life.

Not getting caught up in western consumerism is also something that I value and strangely how I get joy from just going to buy a ruler or a new toothbrush – as the housekeeping ladies decided to wash the two I had and they ended up with bristles in all directions.  I hope it was that and they hadn’t used them to clean my bathroom – decided a new toothbrush was a good idea.

Finally, a plug.  One of the things I have observed in my time here is how many families struggle to pay fees to send their children to school and to buy them uniforms and other items that they needed.  Through money that has been given to me by my church and other friends, I decided to start a fund that would support these families to get their children through primary and secondary education.  Also, I wanted to create a legacy of my time here and something that will continue when I do, finally, return to the UK. However, I know whatever happens, I will continue to come here so I can administer the fund from home or Rwanda with local support here.

Creating Opportunity Through Education

If you feel you would like to make a donation to the fund, just drop me an email to jonathan.lamb3@btinternet.com and I'll send you more details.

Thank you!

The start of a new year

February in Rwanda

It’s taken me a few attempts to write this post.  Life here continues to keep me very busy and I often feel I can just about cope with the day-to-day challenges, let alone write about them!  Looking back, I see my last post was in October and the one before that in August so apologies they have become less frequent (and it is now February) as I know many of you like to be updated on what I’ve been up to.

So what have I been up to?  I’ll not go back to last October, as I can’t remember that far back so I’ll start from the beginning of the year when I returned to Rwanda after a lovely break back home for Christmas.  I find switching between being here in the Rwanda, going back to the UK and then coming out here again all quite easy and it is interesting to see how I can quickly adapt from one minute being in here in the middle of Africa in the south-west of Rwanda, with the DRC as my neighbour and then back into the Lewes bubble.

The lovely Lewes bubble

The realisation of how different life is between here and there hit me after I arrived in Addis Ababa airport on my way back to Kigali.  I left Heathrow on a cold, dark evening and a very high tech Terminal 2 where everything is now stream-lined & computerised to walking around, the following morning, a rather warm Terminal 2 of Addis Airport wondering why my onward flight was not showing on the departure board. Thinking I may be in the wrong terminal and that my flight was now leaving Terminal 1, I soon discovered the flight was not leaving at all as it had been cancelled and combined with another flight going via Entebbe.  Chaos reigned as I discovered there were two flights leaving from the same departure gate so it was a miracle I ended up on the right bus to the aircraft let alone on the right plane to Kigali.

After a rather long and sleepless journey (a passenger had been taken ill in the seat behind me on the flight from London and there was one of those “Is there a doctor onboard moments?” but, thankfully, being a flight to Africa where there are normally medics coming out to work, there happened to be two doctors and five nurses who all crowded around the seats behind me diagnosing and treating the man who, thankfully, turned out to be OK), I arrived at the guest house at Solace Ministries very tired. On getting into the bath for a much needed shower, I slipped and somehow managed to come flying out upside down crashing onto the toilet and ripping off a pipe in the process resulting in water gushing out all over the bathroom and me rather dazed on the floor.  Thankfully, nothing was broken (except the WC) but I noticed there was some blood on the floor and I saw that I had badly gashed my back and arm.  

Deciding I didn’t need to go to the hospital or rather didn’t want to, I did a quick self-examination and thought a visit to the pharmacy would do the trick so two pharmacies later and £12.00 for some rather sticky anti-septic gel I managed to fix myself up.

However, the decision to drive out to the Akagera National Park, a six hour return journey, the next day and then a six hour drive back to Kamembe the following day was maybe not a good idea and arrived back rather battered and weary.

This experience sort of set the tone for the following weeks I have been back. Emmanuel, the manager at the guest house, left shortly after my return to go back home town in the north of the country leaving me manager less for a few weeks and a stream of visitors coming from the UK.  With only two days notice we had the Rwandan Prime Minister come to stay.  We thought we were just getting him and a few of his staff so we were not too concerned about looking after such a VIP but the morning of his arrival it was announced that they wanted to have 50 people for dinner.  This did cause me some concern (more than just some!) as we already had a team of 10 from the UK and a team of pastors, also 10, who were at the guesthouse for training so having 70 for dinner was logistically challenging if not impossible. After some discussions with the PM’s staff and at one point being “ordered’ to host people for dinner we agreed on 30 – 20 in the restaurant and 10 in the Villa where the PM was staying.

The plan was to have the PM’s visitors in the restaurant and the other visitors in the small meeting hall but this plan, as they do here, backfired when the PM decided he wanted to have a 20 minute meeting in the small hall that turned into rather a longer meeting of over an hour. By this time, the heavy Cyangugu rains had started along with the power cuts and when the meeting finally finished, everyone rushed to the restaurant and we discovered the invited 20 had turned to 40 and with the other visitors we ended up with 60 in a restaurant that comfortably seats 40!

We were hoping the following day would be a bit easier as the PM was going out in the morning and then would return to the guesthouse to change before leaving for Kigali.  It was decided, again at very short notice, to invite 20 for lunch and this time we were told would be the maximum number to then find that 40 turned up and unsurprisingly we ran out of food at which point I was past caring.

The PM was very nice and was very appreciative of what we had done to accommodate his visit, as were many of the other ministers who were there. To be honest, I don’t think any other hotel in Kamembe could have done what we did that weekend. For those of you who know the guesthouse, you can see how challenging it can be to be going up and down from the Villa to the restaurant and the staff were very bemused to see the General Manager running up and down with jugs of juice and then clearing plates from the restaurant and serving drinks.  The staff did a wonderful job under a lot of pressure and I was very proud they did such a good job and I was very pleased that my 20+ years of event management had been put to great use.

As well as the PM, we have been busy with many other visitors from the UK. A team from the Glaven Valley in Norfolk were out for two weeks and now I am looking after a small team of four from St Peter’s Church in Yaxley. All have been busy supporting various projects from building a house, training pastors, visiting recipients of micro-finance loans, medical and sexual health training, installing rain-water systems in two houses built by teams and much more besides! 

Some of the Glaven Valley team going off to teach

Other news from here is on a sadder note. The sick baby that had water on the brain died shortly after I returned from the UK. He had slipped into a coma and didn’t recover but really a blessing for him and his mother who has now enrolled into a local secondary school to restart her education.  The lady with HIV/Aids, who I have also mentioned in previous posts is, I feel, coming to the end of her life and what turned out to be a sad and distressing visit to see her the other day with the realisation of how badly she had deteriorated both mentally and physically. How she has gone on this long I just don’t know but she has shown remarkable fortitude and resilience with a life confined to a small bedroom and more recently no contact with friends as the doctor had banned her using her mobile phone, her only way of keeping in touch with the outside world, due to breathing problems she was experiencing.

On a more positive note, is the encouraging story of Taciana, a genocide widow and her two children who became the recipient of a house built by the Glaven Valley Church team. A few weeks ago, I found myself sitting outside a kitchen of the house where she was living – in the kitchen and not in the house and when I say kitchen I mean nothing more than a mud hut. Her story was a very sad one, husband and family killed in the genocide when she was seven months pregnant to be raped shortly afterwards and infected, as was the baby she was carrying.  A few years later, having remarried, her husband left her as he discovered he had been infected but, thankfully, her daughter who she shortly gave birth to was not. Forced out of a house as she couldn’t pay the rent, someone offered her the use of their kitchen with a leaking roof that meant whenever it rained they had to find a dry corner and huddle together to keep dry.

Taciana outside her kitchen

Through an organisation that supports genocide widows she was identified to be the recipient of a house to be built, by the Glaven Valley team whose churches generously donated funds, on land given by the government some 30 minutes outside Kamembe. A simple, timber framed structure with mud-lined walls and a tin roof it promised shelter and a home for the family and through generosity of others she was also given a young cow, furniture, bedding and other items and a system to harvest rain water. She had been welcomed into her new community and it was wonderful to see how lives can be transformed in a matter of weeks.

Moving in day for Taciana and her children

Talking about weeks I am now into my final ten weeks here.  I have decided to stay a few more months in Rwanda, probably until the end of October when my visa expires. I have decided to spend some time in Kigali to experience life in the city and to divide my time between Kamembe and Kigali offering consultancy support as opposed to managing projects.  I hope this time will give me the space I need to think about the future with the realisation that my two years here has flown by.

Last weekend I escaped to Kibuye up the lake for a short stay in the Moriah Hill, a very nice hotel affordable through a gift from one of the teams to spoil myself – a real treat to have a comfortable bed, soft pillows, a t.v. walk-in shower and a bathrobe.  Time to relax a bit before a text from the guesthouse to say the drains had blocked and required emergency repairs due to tree roots getting into the pipes and tanks. This weekend we had have to have further repairs done, close off a number of rooms, dig some of the gardens up and deal with heavy rain and mud!

Kibuye

Going to Kibuye reminded me again what a beautiful country this is.  This time of year is one of the best times to visit as it is between the heavy rain seasons and the countryside looks green and lush with the trees covered in colourful red, yellow and purple flowers. I’m often struck by the colours here, from the fabrics to the handicrafts, jewellery and even the reflections in the water from the colourful painted boats.

Local colour

Reflections

I continue to share my house with my Rwandan family and to share in their challenges, negotiate myself around the many pots and pans as well as peer through the washing to enjoy the view of Lake Kivu.  Note to self – that washing line must come down!

So that’s a quick snapshot of the last few weeks.  Yes, I do mean a snapshot as loads more that I could write about but will save that for the book.

Lake Kivu through the washing!

Dedicated to Pam & in memory of Janice

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

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

The Old Man or "Muzehe"

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

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

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

Speeches over, Fantas drunk & now the photos

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

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

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

Dancing in celebration of  getting a goat

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

The goats are coming!

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

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

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

Everyone paired up with their goat

"Why are the goats getting all the attention?"

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

My lush & green garden after a night of heavy rains

One of those wonderful Cyangugu sunsets

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

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

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

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

Lovely Janice - Rwanda 2011

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

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

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

Isaie saying goodbye to his Mum, brother and niece

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

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