Where do I start? I've been here for six weeks now and am beginning to develop a new sense of 'home' after now having made a nice little group of friends, finding my role at work and gradually getting my bearings in and around Kamembe.
Over the next year, there will be more regular posts on more specific aspects of my life here, but for now, here's a little introduction...
My new home: Munezero House. Munezero House (meaning: the house of joy) is simultaneously the Rwanda Aid office and my new abode.
The residential quarters are out the back where we have a cosy verandah to enjoy the afternoon sun. I'm quite literally the poorest I've ever been and I know now that I will never be able to afford a view like this from my backyard again! Below: one of the many pictures I find myself taking, trying to capture the sunset over Lake Kivu and the Congolese mountains.
As spoilt as I am at Munezero House compared to some my neighbours and co-workers, there are two creature comforts whose absence I notice: an oven and a washing machine. Filling a bucket from the water tank last Saturday morning, to hand wash my clothes, I had to strain it so the nasty little worms didn't work their way into my clothes and do the nasty things they do.
Our 'oven' here is called an imbabura. It's an outdoor charcoal stove. I've been shown how to use it as an oven and each weekend I have been experimenting, baking bread and potatoes. The picture below is of our housekeeper, Françoise, and I posing with my first Rwandan meal, red beans and green bananas. My cooking became entertainment for all of my Rwandan co-workers because they firmly believe that white people can't cook! Based on what they have seen in films or TV shows, they think all that we eat is packaged food.
Ah, now to transport. One of the first impressions any new country leaves. Transport in Rwanda ranges from comfortable to being an extreme sport! Most of the time I get around on the back of a motorbike taxi which, depending on the quality of road, can be either.
My first moto-driver above, Pascal, was a funny one. I could have sworn he was a teenager, he thought the same of me - it turns out we're the same age. My first trip out with him was fine, the next day he turned up with a bandana wrapped around his face to hide the injuries, which after probing him about it later in the day I found out, he had sustained from being attacked by a bull the night before. Several stiches, grazing and broken teeth later, I think the poor bugger probably suffered a concussion but the doctors at the local clinic said he was fine. He wasn't quite the same after that.
Break downs are inevitable... but costly when you have an umuzungo (white person) customer. Below, the roadside mechanics took apart the bike, despite it only having a puncture. They then proceded to charge my moto-driver, Florien, four times the price as well as for a new tube just because he was with me. In the future, I'll be waiting by the roadside a kilometre or so away.
Life by the lake obviously calls for boats. I went out to visit a school on the lake island of Ishywa and was mesmerised by the scene of boats lined up to reach the remote island.
As serene as it was getting over there, piling into a leaking boat with 20 other market-goers and their produce on the way back made us quickly assess what we'd save first should we have to swim the rest of the way!
Nyabugogo bus station in Kigali (below) is the definition of organised chaos. People, food-vendors, pushbikes, motorbikes and buses everywhere and somehow everyone gets to where they need to go and the buses leave on time.
The highlight of my week was discovering proof of how small the world really is. At the local market here in Kamembe I came across two Western Bulldogs caps, the AFL team my family barracks for! Underneath the pile I also came across a Wallabies cap which I think was an omen of the rugby defeat that came to upset my English co-workers the following day. Aussie, Aussie, Aussie!
Lastly, the weather. Most days the temperature humidly hovers between 20-28°C, then a fierce thunderstorm rolls through in the afternoon causing the roof and windows to leak, the power dips in and out at least once a day, and then the sun comes out again. Yesterday was no exception, the difference was that I was out running when the storm hit. At first I was joined by every kid along the way, screaming a French-Kinyarwandan mix of 'Umuzungo couru!' (The white person is running!) Later, others taking shelter from the rain were calling for me to join them undercover but I was already drenched. By the time I made it back, a hot cuppa and warm clothes were the trick, and I was so grateful to find enough hot water in the pipes to have a warm bucket-bath, despite the power being out.
That's all for now. Work is about to get busy tomorrow but that'll be quickly compensated for with a lakeside getaway to Kibuye this weekend!
Please comment or email, I'd love to hear from you all. xx
