AAAAfrica at last!

Now I think I must come clean. How better to start the African section of my blog with a confession?: On my way to Rwanda I had an assignation with an enigmatic young woman at Brussels. At the last minute before leaving Dorset I arranged to meet up with another VSO volunteer who was flying up from Toulouse to catch the same plane. It seemed fun to fix a blind date with Tiga-Rose over coffee in the transit lounge. Recognising each other proved little trouble (how many giant bearded Englishmen wearing tropical clothes will you ever find in a cold and clammy Brussels January)? Alas, we never did manage our coffee – my flight was late arriving – but we managed to negotiated seats together on the African flight. Tiga is going to teach English at Gikongoro, about half a day’s minibus ride from me, so we’ll be able to support each other when the going gets tough and Africa piles up on us…… That’s how VSO works.

It felt a mighty long way to Kigali. At first the flight was wonderful; the kind of journey you dream of. Clear skies over the Alps, and a vista as far as the eye could see of thousands of snow covered peaks, crisp and pristine, like a frozen sea. Then, in a while, the coast of Croatia with amazing elongated islands; a mapmaker’s dream floating underneath us and contrasted against the bright blue of the Adriatic. Greece was covered in cloud, but over the Med the view cleared in time for us to see most of the Nile delta loom up and gradually roll past below us. An olive green uniform mass, distinguished only by the glint of sunlight off drainage channels. More murk and dust haze over Egypt (we missed the pyramids), until suddenly it ended abruptly. And there below us was Abu Simbel and the lake stretched out beside it. We followed the Nile southwards all the way to near its source in Rwanda, with razor sharp ridges of rust-coloured rock projecting through a blanket of dun sand. For about two hours we flew over a landscape with nothing man-made recognisable from the air. Past Khartoum, past Juba, until the land below faded into evening dark, with just spots of flame from nomad campfires visible even from 30,000 feet. Over Uganda everything was in pitch darkness, with just a splodge of light to mark Kampala. Then we were descending across the Virunga volcanoes and sleeping mountain gorillas (sorry, chaps, if our jet woke you) and watching a distant lightning storm over the Congo as we approached Kigale. The airport stands on a flattened hilltop and we shuddered to a halt just yards from the end of the runway and a busy road. Almost everybody on the plane descended in Rwanda, with just a brave few going on to their final destination in a troubled Nairobi. (The news from Kenya doesn’t improve, and our Rwanda friends, many of whom have relatives in Nairobi, are fearful for the future unless the political crisis is settled soon).

At the airport we were met by a reception committee of VSOs already in the country and staff from the country headquarters. We were terminally jaded and tired out, and I can’t tell you how nice it was to be welcomed so enthusiastically. Our luggage (nothing mislaid en route, hooray!) was loaded into a pick-up truck; then us on top of it, and we set off through the warm tropical evening with their air ruffling our hair and dozens of mopeds weaving their way round us. What a contrast to clammy Gatwick! After the wastes of Sudan, Kigali was ablaze with lights and traffic; the epitome of civilisation. Lots of people out on the streets, roadside shops open, knots of people talking, half the others shouting into their mobile phones. We were introduced to four more VSOs, most of whom had arrived from Canada the previous day, but by then we were struggling to remember our own names, let alone theirs! All we wanted was food, a shower and bed and we gratefully sank into oblivion. The night air was cool, our accommodation spacious and quiet; it began to feel as if we we’d come to the right place to get settled in and prepare for the very different Rwanda beyond Kigali’s city boundary.