Arrived Safely in Rwanda
My husband Mike and I have arrived safely in Rwanda. Our KLM flight from Liverpool John Lennon airport went like a dream. We took a 55 minute Fokker ‘city hopper’ to the Amsterdam hub from where you can fly to just about anywhere in the world. We picked up our Airbus A330 to Kigali for a flight of just over seven hours. Now say what you like about airport food, and I have said plenty – usually it’s less than desirable – as Gerald Ratner said ‘absolute cr**p’. But on KLM the food offered was a very pleasant surprise. Peanuts and a drink to get us settled down and soon a meal of chicken tagine, an orange mouse, cheese and biscuits and any drink we wished for, be it wine, orange juice or tea/coffee. Later we had a couple of really nice sandwiches, more cheese and crackers and a carton of fruit. And all this in economy class, though we had upgraded to economy comfort – basically a fee for more leg room – but boy was it worth it!
On arrival in Kigali at 7pm, we waited an absolute age to collect our baggage. This is normal! Two flights had arrived together and instead of using both conveyor belts they used one. People were milling about everywhere, getting hot and flustered in the 21c heat. And it kept sticking. A man standing half way up the slope from the baggage entrance kept shoving the cases down, then stopping the whole system.
There was a sea of faces in the arrivals hall and I scanned them for my host’s – Bright’s - face. I had not seen him for over three years and wondered if I would recognise him. I first met him on my 2007 trip to Rwanda and we had kept in touch ever since. But he was nowhere to be seen. I went outside and still no Bright. I even wrote his name on a sheet of paper and went round the crowd hoping he would see it. Still no luck. We waited – patiently. That is all you can do in Rwanda. People come when they come.
Then just as I was wondering if my hosts had got the right day to meet us, up ran Bright, 22, who flung his arms round me like a long lost friend – a wonderful welcome. He had brought his mother, Venny, 53, with him and she too gave us a warm welcome. They had wondered if my 7pm arrival was really 8pm in their time as we are an hour behind them in summer time, and had hedged their bets arriving in between.
They had hired a 4x4 and it had taken two hours to get to the airport, a journey of 60 miles. But although the roads are fine in the capital, once outside they are potholed due to the rains. And, of course, we had decided to come in the rainy season – a misjudgement on my part, though to be fair some sites say April/ May is not in the rainy season, others do.
Arriving at Ruhengeri, now renamed Musanze District, we veered off the main road, down a bumpy, rain sodden dirt road, to their house, which is surrounded by a brick compound wall. The ‘garden’ is mainly rubble as Rwandan soil is rock-strewn and very difficult to work, with a couple of bushes struggling to survive. We entered the house straight into the sitting room, with three foam sofas over wooden frames covered with browny-gold nylon plush material. This is typical in Rwanda and you see them displayed on the pavements outside the furniture maker’s shops. The floor is black concrete with a small square of thin carpet on which sits matching pouffe/table covered with a cream cloth with a rather garish vase displaying plastic flowers.
We were given a bedroom, ‘bathroom’ and spare room to welcome any visitors, but which only held a table and one chair – enough for my teaching preparation. The bathroom was not a great surprise. I had experienced similar last time. It had a toilet with no seat, and a rather battered shower base with a hand held shower attachment teetering precariously on its inlet tap, but no wash basin nor mirror for shaving, only a plastic bowl and some nice scented soap which I guessed had been specially purchased for us. Normally buy a big block of blue soap and cut off what they want. The small barred window was covered with a sort of curtain stretched across the frame, filled with two overlapping chipped panes of glass, and difficult to pull back.
We guessed the spare room was really a bedroom that had been vacated for our use, the rest of the family, one mother and seven children, sharing the other two bedrooms and another bathroom. One of the children though, is still away at school.
Then the mother, Venny, 53, took us to the spare room and we were astonished at the range of traditional gifts they had bought for us. There were wonderful wooden masks, a carving of three giraffes, a set of miniature traditional spears, a woven handbag, a wood plaque depicting Rwandan village life, and three beautiful pictures painted on waxed cloth showing Rwandan culture, as well as some beaded cooking ladles. We were overwhelmed at their generosity. It is often the case that those who have nothing are those who give the most.
Dinner was cooked in what they call their kitchen, a small room where there is a stand that holds a few items of food, a stack of handle-less aluminium cooking pans, just enough mis-matched plates, cups and saucers and cutlery. There is no cupboard or drawers to house them in! They just sat on a table. For us in the developed world you just wonder why we pride our kitchens so much when for Rwandans their priority is to put food on the table and clothes on their backs. Cooking is done inside in this household – rather than the garden cooking normal in these parts. But there is no cooker, just a gas bottle with one ring, or cooking stands filled with coke. This is the only source of heat in the house. Showers and water from the tap are cold – so if you want a hot shower – tough!
To eat they cooked chips, rice and sauce with a few bits of chewy meat thrown in. The sauce was delicious and had been made by the girls using tomatoes, onion and peppers. We had eaten on the plane so luckily did not need to eat into their small stock of food, though they had prepared a mountain of rice which now sits cold on the kitchen stand – ready for the next meal. I just hope it doesn’t develop ‘rice bacteria’.
And then to bed. The ‘new’ sheets they had purchased especially for our visit smelt musty, and I guess had been languishing on some shopkeeper’s shelves for some time. But the fleece overblanket was very welcome and warm. Thankfully there was a mosquito net hanging from the ceiling so we tucked it round the mattress and hopped into bed. Then we found the pillows! They were large and equally as hard. What they were stuffed with god only knows. I banged my head up and down to try and make a dent. I guessed they too were new and bought for our benefit which was very humbling.
We woke to torrential rain beating down on the roof and a dismal grey sky outside. Thinking of the cold shower that awaited us we were reluctant to get out of bed.
Eventually we braved the bathroom, got cold showers, and joined the family in the sitting room at 11am. They had been up since about dawn! We had brought them some clothing, football kits, jewellery, spectacles and toiletries. They were over the moon. A lot of it was pre-used, as they say, but you would have thought we had brought them Armani or Gucci! The football strips went down a bomb and they could not wait to get them on and pose for many photographs. I must admit they looked really smart in their ‘sports’ clothes which they will use for football, volley ball and basket ball.
Now we need to change our money, for I have more sterling lodged round my bulging middle in a money belt than I care to let anyone know about in case I am mugged! However, Rwanda is a safe country. After the 1994 genocide they have a fear of any more violence erupting and consequentially are a law-abiding people. And being an umuzunge (white foreigner) they respect you for coming to visit them. This word – umuzunge – you hear all the time. When they spot you walking down the street the cry goes out ‘umuzunge’ and people come out of their houses, and from the back cracks to come and look. They stare at you and you stare at them. Each is mesmerised by each other’s cultural dress and colour of skin. But a quick smile and a muraho (how are you) soon dispels any wariness and soon we are all friends. And that is the lasting impression here. People are so very friendly and want to please you. It’s like being in your second home.
Going out into the town we saw women pounding cassava on a patch of land and using the traditional method, sticks and a wooden bowl, and also charcoal makers, and street-side shoe menders who do all the work by hand.
We walked 20 minutes to the other side of town to see Pamela Hasnajollah, an English woman who runs the Tukabunde Project, set up in 2007, a school for orphaned children. Originally it was going to be an orphanage, but the government found that children coming out of orphanages set up after the genocide did not fit well back into the community. So they financially support widows, and there were very many of them after the war, to take in and sometimes adopt orphans. That way, when they grow up in the community they fit in better when they are older. Part of the deal is that they go to school. State primary education is free, but privately run schools need sponsors, and that’s what this project does.
However, we missed Pamela, but her colleague, a Rwandese called Nathan, helped us find the best rate to change our English pounds. After phoning round, including the bank, he took us in his Toyota minibus to a private money changer, who sat in the car with us and we did the deal, getting 944,000 Rwandan francs to the £1. The best rate, in Kigali, the capital, can be as high as 9,600, but it varies from day to day, with the weekend being the worst. Thursdays and Fridays generally get the best rate, he said. In 2007 I got 1,000 Rwandan francs to the £1 but inflation has now changed that. In fact these poor people are finding it even harder to make ends meet.
Being friendly, as all Rwandese seem to be, Nathan then took us to our host’s home. When we got back the girls, Joanna, 21, Gloria 17, and Faith, 16, gave us a demonstration of traditional Intore dancing. This involved slow arm movements and some foot stamping to pleasant local music from their brother Bright’s laptop. Tea of yellow maize bread, which tastes rather sweet, and bananas with coffee and tea was proffered and accepted. Later we dined on matoke (green bananas) boiled, peas, an enormous avocado and meat sauce. The sauce, cooked by the girls, was delicious, with garlic and tomatoes, though as is usual here, very chewy. We are rapidly becoming vegetarians.
I WAS AWAKE FOR MY OPERATION!
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