A Rwandan Life

I am very aware that up until now my entries have been very much me me me. And much as I am loathed to admit it, it goes without saying that my life and the way that I am living it over here remains quite different to that of the majority of Rwandans. So I thought it was about time that I give you a slightly clearer picture of the bigger picture!

While I struggle out of bed a 6am every morning (well more like 6:15 thanks to the snooze button) others around me have mostly been up for an hour already (don't worry I can hear them - so I know!). My next move is to crawl from bed to yoga to shower and then to a massive bowl of porridge with bananas. Meanwhile most of my Rwandan colleagues will be having a cup of tea if anything at all before either heading to work for around 7am or if they are subsistence farmers living in the villages the work of tidying the house will begin. And here is another point of shame for me - the average Rwandan house is immaculate, however large or small, and is swept and mopped daily (mine is swept weekly and mopped when I can face it, which is rarely!). However, I comfort myself with the fact that most families with a house my size or smaller have some kind of houseboy or help which I do not have - yeah well I have to have some kind of excuse!

Then its out into the fields for the whole family; however small you are there is something that you can do to help. From the early hours you see women bent double hacking away at grass, harvesting crops or hoeing the fields, while children carry bundles of straw twice their size from place to place. By the afternoon bushes are strewn with laundry (the replacement for a washing line) and children returned from school are carry jerry cans of water back to the house. By this point the bars may be full of drunken men sipping on jugs of banana beer around the market, but for most the work never ends...

And in the midst of it all most people will have one big meal a day (generally cassava and beans with other carbs depending on availability) and otherwise just tea, milk or water, while I tuck in to my three hefty meals with snacks in-between. The number of times colleagues have spotted my flask of tea at work and wished me 'bon appetit' or 'enjoy your breakfast' before I have time to point out that breakfast was hours ago and I am famished already! By 8pm I am exhausted and crawl back to bed soon afterwards, well aware that others around me will be up for many hours to come, only sleeping if this is deemed truly necessary. But for me the sleep remains of utmost importance and I gladly indulge myself of a good eight hours...

This is just a glimpse of life in Rwanda and I cannot claim to be all-knowledgeable, in fact in six months I may realise that life is nothing like what I have claimed above, but this is how I see it and thought I would share a little of how things are from this perspective. Tomorrow I am off to run another training in Kibungo with Ellie, this time 120 young people and teachers, so think of us trying to keep a track of 80 over-excited teenagers!

The Long and Winding Road

That leads back to my door. So here I am again at last but it has been an interesting few weeks of festive fun and African adventures which all began with the arrival of my first visitor, Jon. For him it was something of a whirlwind from the start, but one which he seemed to embrace despite the frequent deviations and inevitable mishaps along the way.

The first stop was back home to Nyagatare where we got straight into preparations for my Christmas Party; borrowing a fridge, stocking up on food and drink, making decorations (even a tree from my garden was incorporated) and generally filling the house with the festive spirit that had otherwise been completely lacking. Possibly to the confusion of many readers, despite this being a very Christian country Christmas is a much understated affair, in fact outside of Kigali it would have taken a very cunning observer to notice any difference at all save the odd Christmas ringtone on the bus! But fourteen adventurous VSOs braved the taxi buses to Nyagatare where many silly games and fantastic food was enjoyed by all (Jon even managed to construct a BBQ from a few bricks and so meat was cooked for the first time in this house!). All of which was followed the next morning by some impressive Muzungu football watched by a crowd of slightly confused but clearly enthralled Rwandans who later joined in when some of the party set off for Kigali.

The aftermarth was a welcome week of quiet with me finishing up at work and Jon getting stuck into Nyagatare life with all the laundry and jerry cans that that involves! And then the real fun began… From our simple life up North to the British Embassy Christmas Carols, where many an eager VSO volunteer could be found tucking into the first free red wine and mince pies that they had seen since touchdown! But we were there for the Carols of course! A couple of days later we were back out East to Akagera National Park for my first Rwandan Safari, where we mingled with the hippos, giraffe, zebra and buffalo from the top of our jeep.

But what about Christmas day? Well, I think I can safely say that I will never have another one like it – fantastic but certainly not Christmas as I know it and more just like a great long stream of food and fun. It all kicked off with a cup of tea at Mel’s house where seven of us were staying, then a quick journey on the taxi bus to Joanne and Morley (a wonderful Canadian couple who happen to make great pancakes!) for an enormous breakfast of pastries, pancakes and fruit salad (and you thought I was starving!) and handing out of Secret Santa presents – all of which went down a storm. Then it was back to Mel’s to prepare for the huge banquet that evening, again more food than you can imagine for around 20 people washed down with plenty of beer and a singsong.

No time to recover however we set off the next day for Gikongoro (where Samira lives) for the start of our travels and from there through Nyungwe Forest to Cyangugu on the border with the DRC where we gazed across the calm lake to the lights of the war-torn country and found it hard to imagine it was anything other than the colourful land it looked from where we were standing. A couple of days later I took over Jane’s bike and with Jon on the back set off on the bumpy but incredibly beautiful road to Kibuye – the journey was five hours of incredible pain (many a broken bone was narrowly avoided) but worth every bump as the views gave new meaning to 'breathtaking'. Once at our destination we were understandably reluctant to move and remained there swimming in the lake and relaxing on its shore until New Year which we saw in with the guest house staff (no one else was there) and a few too many rounds of Charades.

But all good things must come to an end and early the next morning we were on the bike (Samira’s this time) back to Kigali where Jon caught his flight back home and I attempted to slowly nurse myself back into work. And now here I sit back in Nyagatare slightly daunted by the prospect of returning to the office and trying to get used to the little trials of life in the sticks once again; so far electricity has cut off, water has cut off, a storm has descended, batteries have run out and my loo smells. But really it’s good to be back, only there is no denying that Christopher Robin was right – it’s much more friendly with two.