Home again

Back home.

The trip home was good - as enjoyable as any trip could be in cattle class. Final farewells to Ange, Cyrille and Gladys at the airport. Flight to Johannesburg on Rwanda Air's brand new 737, complete with new-car smell. It was less than half full so there was plenty of room to stretch out and enjoy the excellent view of the African continent drifting by 40,000 feet below.

It arrived 20 minutes early which meant a longer than expected wait at Jo'burg, but at least there was plenty of opportunity to drink coffee and browse the shops, of which there are a good many, including a shop called Out of Africa which is quite large and jam-packed with the most beautiful African products you could imagine. Waved goodbye to Julie as I headed off to board my flight to Sydney while she headed off to catch a flight to London for three weeks of R and R.

Had a bit of a turn when I took my seat and discovered that I was a lone Australian surrounded by South Africans going to the World Cup in New Zealand. (It seemed like most people on the plane were heading there.) I wasn't sure that admitting to being Australian would be a good idea given that we knocked them out of the semi-finals, and attempted to pass myself off as an Icelander, but they guessed anyway. Fortunately they didn't hold it against me and only gave me a gentle ribbing. Their view was that if South Africa couldn't win it then the next best thing was that it at least stay in the southern hemisphere. 

I was in luck when I arrived at Sydney. My scheduled flight to Canberra was one of only about three flights leaving Sydney that afternoon - most flights were cancelled because of industrial action by Qantas engineers - so I didn't have any problems getting home on time.

So all that is left is for me to reminisce on the amazing month I've just had. I have to admit it will be nice not to have worry about boiling every drop of water I drink, and it will be nice to be able to eat salads again, and to enjoy nice tender meat. And I can't say I will miss eating cassava at every meal (not a vegetable I took a liking to).

But I will miss all the people I met and their hospitality, generosity and affection. I know I'll visit Rwanda again in some capacity. I had some life-shifting experiences there which I won't forget - making eye contact with Kwitonda the gorilla, hearing Rosine describe her extraordinary experiences during the genocide, and seeing the emotional display at the Murambi Hill memorial centre.

So thanks to David Wheen for the opportunity to take part in the program, to Julie for all her support during the workshops, and to DGIE staff for their hospitality and generosity.

And thanks also to all those of you have read this humble blog and your very positive comments about it. It's been fun doing it.

So it's murabeho from me until next time.

Farewell dinner

Wednesday 12 October, evening

The Director-General hosted a farewell dinner tonight for Julie and me, and a welcome dinner for David, Mandy and Jennie. It was in the Indian restaurant at The Manor, where we went a couple of weeks ago (but tonight it wasn't raining).

It was a very generous dinner with lots of warm thank-yous on both sides. Another wonderful gift  - a bathrobe, slippers and bag, in one of the beautiful African fabrics. I had been looking with considerable desire at several of these at the craft cooperative only that morning. Just as well I didn't buy one.

Another example of how generous the Rwandan people are.
 

Meandering in Kigali

Wednesday 12 October, morning

 It might be a bit surprising, but today - the day before I go home - was my  first chance to actually wander around the centre of Kigali for a while. I had been in before but only quick trips to change money or do shopping.

It was also my first opportunity to catch one of the local buses, which is an experience - an enjoyable one though. There are four ways of getting around - get a lift with someone (which has been our main method I guess), taxi (also a method of transport we have used frequently), buses, and moto taxis.

 
The buses are very crowded but very cheap. Most of them are minivans which just keep coming - no actual schedule. Most of them have religious slogans on them, such as Trust God or Thank God - perhaps instructions as to what to do as you get on and get off! Newer, bigger buses are being introduced which have bus cards modeled on the Oyster Card in the UK.

The moto taxis are the cheapest and the most exciting. Apparently they are a lot safer than they used to be as they are now all required to have driving licences and to carry helmets for passengers (straps for the helmets seem to be still optional). They attempted to ban them because of the accident rate, but the city went on strike in protest as for a large proportion of the population it is the only form of transport they can afford. That is when they started regulating them - their licences are checked regularly by the police, and they have to wear safety jackets with their registration numbers on them. I haven't tried one, but if I was going to be here a bit longer I'm sure I'd pluck up the courage to do so.

Walking around Kigali centre is a different experience from walking around other capital cities I've been used to. I wouldn't call it pretty but it has a lot of atmosphere - noisy and crowded and chaotic. New buildings are going up all over the place which adds to the chaos. There are a couple of small shopping centres but mostly the shops are small and crowded.

One thing about Kigali and most of Rwanda as far as I can tell is that there is absolutely no litter. The pavements might be rough and the houses might be small and run-down, but everything is clean and tidy and there are always people sweeping the streets and the pavements.

The Group House

Monday 10 October, evening

David, Mandy and Jennie arrived exactly on time, so we are now a household of five. David's luggage showed signs of having been tampered with, and Jennie is sure there are some items of clothing missing from her luggage. This apparently is not an unusual occurence for any luggage going through Johannesburg. Julie's suitcase had been tampered with when she came through there as well, and I think my name tag might have been pinched.

Visiting the border post at Gatuna

Monday 10 October

Ange and Gladys picked us up at 9am to take us for a visit to one of the District Offices and the border post at Gatuna, on the border with Uganda in the north. An exhausting but very interesting day.

We called in to the District Office in a town called Gicumbi - two small offices in a complex of government offices, staffed by just two people. But they were very friendly and it looked to be very efficiently run. They issue passports, laisser-faire documents, deal with NGOs and also deal with a Congolese refugee camp which is on the outside of the town.

Then on to the border post at Gatuna, where we were welcomed and given a comprehensive tour. Gatuna is one of the border posts that are now open 24 hours a day - an initiative of the current President to free up trade movements through the country.

The Customs manager also showed us around their operation, the highlight of which was the new scanning machine, used to scan trucks to make sure they are carrying only what their customs declaration says they should be. Very high-tech with lots of flashing lights and really cool graphics. They say it has helped enormously to reduce the time taken for trucks to pass through customs.

The new scanning machine at Gatuna border post

We were also taken over to meet the counterparts on the Ugandan side, who were very friendly and just as at the other border post I visited there is a lot of cooperation between the two sides. 

Entering Uganda

Entering Rwanda

No-one seemed to mind my taking heaps of photos, even on the Uganda side - rather different from border posts in other countries.

We thought it was going to be a quick trip up and back - everyone said it was only an hour or so to Gatuna. But we didn't get back to Kigali until nearly 6.30pm, just in time to head to the airport to meet David, Mandy and Jennie.

Banana wine and chocolate - or, a very social weekend

Saturday and Sunday 8-9 October

A social weekend.

Saturday, gift shopping at a craft cooperative in town where almost everything is beautiful and it was hard not to buy more than I could possibly take home. Central Kigali may not be downtown Manhattan, but it's refreshing not to see cheap tourist traps selling junk everywhere.

Lunch with Rosine at the Bourbon Street Cafe - I had my favourite African coffee: expresso blended with milk, chocolate and ginger.

After shopping we had lunch with Rosine then she drove us to her place to meet her family who were absolutely lovely and genuinely thrilled to have us visit.

Rosine

 We know Rosine from when she did a Masters degree in Customs Law at the University of Canberra, and she became great friends with David and Mandy and Julie. She has been very generous while we have been here and it has been delightful to get to know her better.

Rosine's extended family

 Her family is quite big, with Mama and Papa, an uncle, a brother, two sisters and two nieces, plus a lady who helps out, all living at home. She also has three brothers living overseas.

Robert, Rosine's youngest brother, insisted on us having some banana wine - which I have to admit is not going to become my favourite drink. Sickly sweet (to my taste) with a very bitter burnt aftertaste. I managed a small glass but Robert said it was OK to have a Primus (beer) instead which I gladly accepted. Still, it's great to have the opportunity to try these things. The Rwandans also make a beer from bananas - which I'm sure is equally disagreeable!

Communication was fun as the older members of the family speak French but not English. But with translation from Rosine and Robert and a few bits of French thrown in, we managed very well. After a couple of beers, Papa engaged me in conversation in French which rather stretched me a bit with as it was a bit noisy and my conversational ability is rather rudimentary. However we persevered and with a bit of body language thrown in we sort of understood each other a fair bit of the time.

The only serious thing we did was to visit the memorial to the Belgian soldiers. This is the  place  where 10 UN soldiers from Belgium were  massacred on day one of the genocide . The soldiers had been deployed to protect the Prime Minister and when the fighting broke out Presidential Guard soldiers attacked the home, disarmed the Belgians and transported them to Kamp Kigali where they killed them. The camp is now a memorial site.

Machine-gun and grenade damage on the outside of the barracks where the Belgian soldiers were killed

The corner where nine of the soldiers died

Sunday we had a farewell brunch with Di who had been in Kigali for the last ten days teaching at the Central Hospital and was about to go back to Butaro. Di, who is the absolute font of all knowledge about eating places in Kigali, had suggested a new cafe called Shocolat Lite, about 15 minutes walk up the road, which is very nice and a bit of a discovery. They make the most amazing hot chocolate. It's in a new building housing offices, a nicely equipped pharmacy, a bank, two restaurants, and a very nice bookstore.

Di Longson, me and Julie

We browsed the bookstore and I could easily have gone crazy but the thought of trying to fit anything else into my luggage made me limit myself to an English-Kinyarwanda phrase book, which would have been useful four weeks ago instead of when I'm about to go home.

To wind the weekend off, Sunday evening we had a lovely evening with Melody and her family. Melody is the Executive Assistant to the Director-General and is just gorgeous.

Skywalkers

Friday 7 October

On the way back through the park next morning we visited the new Canopy Walk which has only been open since last October.

We didn't know what to expect - probably something like alighting from the car then stepping elegantly out onto a nice solid platform and strolling along a nice solid walkway through the treetops. After all, Josien had assured us we didn't have to climb up a ladder or anything to get to it - you just "step out onto it", he said.

What he didn't say was that we had to do a 45-minute hike down a steep slippery trail before we got to step out onto it. And that it is only about eight inches wide and the floor is made of flimsy-looking aluminium.

I'm assured it can carry up to 4 tonnes!

However it has a safety net up to chest height and quite strong cables at shoulder height that you hang on to. And Robert our guide - you can only do it with a guide - assured us that it is designed to hold four tonnes so we should be safe. It's 160m long and 60m high at its highest point. It's in three sections, the middle of which is the longest at 90m (and the highest). He assured us that he was well trained to handle people who panic (why did that not make me feel better?)

Anyway the first part looked easy so we headed off to the first platform where we got ourselves together for the middle part. It actually wasn't that hard to take the next step, and I only suffered a bit of vertigo for the first few steps. It was a bit unnerving when you were moving because it's impossible not to get some swaying from side to side going on. But when we stood still it felt pretty OK. And with the safety net up to chest height you would have to try fairly hard to fall out.

Does this look like a lady who's afraid of heights?

So there we were, standing on this flimsy-looking structure 60m above the forest floor looking out at the treetops. And neither of us regard ourselves as being good withheights. When I asked Robert how often he has to use his training in panic management, he said "Quite often!"

Looking 60m straight down

We didn't get back to Kigali until 6.30pm. Two stops on the way back - Josien wanted to buy fresh milk so he stopped at a little shop in a village which had even more than the usual number of cows around. He was pretty insistent that we buy some as well - even though it came in 5 litre olive oil containers. I bought some just for the experience and just to make him happy I guess. I was a bit surprised that the milk was hot, as it had been boiled - the only way fresh milk can be sold. Milk is such an important part of life here. When people receive visitors it is the custom to give them a gift of a container of milk, especially in country areas. In cities this custom is starting to disappear, or is being replaced by other things such as wine.

Josien also insisted we stop at a market and buy fruit, which was accompanied by a fair bit of yelling and hustling from the vendors, something I still find a bit overwhelming. However with Josien's help we limited ourselves to only four pineapples, two dozen bananas, two pawpaws and three dozen passionfruit and a carry bag - all for 3900 RWF (about $6.50). Just as well David is going to be here next week and he will eat passionfruit until it's coming out of his ears.

PS: Remember, click on the photos to see them full size