Thursday Jan 17 th

Up very early today, ready for 8.00 departure. Marisa left at 7.00; I was the only one of our group up early enough to see her off. It feels as if we’re living a real-life balloon debate where our numbers keep whittling down and down.

I’d spent poor night – alternately boiling hot or freezing. It can’t be a temperature because the antibiotics working in full swing now. So I assume it must be a side effect of the lariam drug.

Claude joined us for breakfast but not before I had been buttonholed by Raina and she tried to get me to agree to teach some English at her school. Claude told us he was getting married in Mid-Feb and has invited us all to his wedding. Wonder how many others will come but I definitely must!

Eventually all of us except Epi left at the same time. Tiga and Soraya were sharing transport down to Gikongoro; their stuff crammed into back of 4x4. You’d think it straightforward that two vols + 2 staff and a load of kit would be a carload. But no, two extra teachers turned up for the ride. They must have been absolutely crammed in. As a result Cathryn, who had also been hoping to hitch a lift down to her new post, had to go into town and catch a bus.

Eventually our driver Alphonse turns up in the red official pick-up, and we load our stuff in. I must say, Claude seems so much more on-the-ball than a lot of them. First we went into town centre – Alphonse had to go to the bank. That meant 30 mins in sweltering sun; we couldn’t find any shade to park. Then Claude wanted to go into another part of town near city bus station to print off some stuff, so another 15 mins parked in full sun watching the world go by. Good job I had my water. Alphonse stood out of the car guarding my stuff in the back. Me very conscious of having all my money – about 400000 RwF in cash in my day sack, plus Euros etc. I’d have made the best kidnap target they could have imagined!

Eventually we were on our way to Gitarama/Muhanga. Past the infamous “1930” prison, with inmates in faded pink uniforms digging in the grounds. First through some very downtrodden parts of the city (made me realise that the area around Amani is pretty classy). Next a huge market area on the fringe of city. Across the wide Nyabonga river which marks our entry into southern province, then past the main road junction, turning away from the road up to the north, the volcanoes and gorillas. Then through series of flat valleys and winding ridges all the way to Gitarama. About a 40 min drive – we never went at more than about 40, and with bends and gradients and other traffic you can’t do it any other way.

Lots of settlements, especially on the hilltops, where most of the crossroads seemed to be. Papyrus growing in marshy valleys; sugar cane, soya, bananas everywhere. Fewer goats than I’d expected – mainly crops growing.

But the scenery is wonderful. Green, terraces everywhere, with patches of trees, even small woods in places. Nowhere is there room for really “wild” stuff, though, there’s too much need for farm land. Occasional we passed a dairy farm with cattle under cover to protect them from the heat.

The road was beautifully graded and smooth. No potholes anywhere – what a difference from Kenya! Almost everyone driving carefully. There were police posts every few miles; we were never stopped but at most places someone had been pulled over to check documents etc.

We arrived at Gitarama quite suddenly. There was no real sense of being in a town, just that the groups of houses became much denser. We stopped off at Tom’s work to collect our key and met Christi his fellow worker (who’s sharing accom with Karen). Then to my new abode to unload.

We are living on the main road where it constitutes a relief road parallel to town centre’s main street. We have a modern first floor flat above the MTN telecomms office, with another flat next door. I am SO LUCKY when you consider what other people are putting up with either in terms of facilities or distance from amenities. We have a big lounge, looking very empty until fully furnished. The kitchen is quite small but adequate and contains a full size fridge-freezer which was Tom’s extravagance he bought for himself. Our bathroom has a proper, working toilet, shower and bath and washbasin. (I absolutely MUST remember not to use the water from the tap to clean my teeth). There are two bedrooms, both with fully fitted wardrobes). Tom’s is bigger but noisier as it faces the road. Mine is smaller but at the rear, and I think I’ve got the better deal. There’s just one problem – my furniture hasn’t arrived. I have no table, chairs, and, especially, no bed. But even then I’ve fallen on my feet – Tom has a spare mattress which I can use. It just means I won’t be able to use mossie net for a while, and will have to spray room before sleeping. (Good job I bought can of spray in the Chinese bazaar). (In any case Gitarama is so high up that we’re near the limit for mossies and it’s rare to see more than one or two in the rooms during the course of an evening). At the rear is a small garden laid to lawn and an ornamental border (the guards do the gardening and grass cutting). Can’t see anywhere to plant my flower seeds and the veg seeds from Tiga; will have to invest in some pots anon.

Tom gives me keys and leaves me to it while he goes back to work. I just dump all my things in the room, because Claude takes me to the district office to show me round and introduces me to about 20 people, none of whose names will I remember. The District office is a rather dreary official building covering all civil administration – finance, legal as well as education. His office is tiny; there’s not really room for two of us so it’s still to be finalised where I’ll work. Then I leave; Claude promises to come at 1.00 to show me round the town.

Of course, he doesn’t show – he’s tied up at work. So I leisurely unpack all my stuff and find homes for everything in these fitted cupboards. Above them, there’s a wide, flat niche where I can store my case, rucksack and all the big plastic bowls etc out of the way. This makes the room seem bigger as well as tidier. I’m going to like it here!

Cathy Nicholl texts inviting me to her place, so I explore the road to hers and she comes to meet me. She is down a dirt road in a lovely western house surrounded by Rwandan huts. She has a view across top of the prison across to the hills. Come to think of it, everywhere in Gitarama has a view of distant hills (just like Bridport but the hills are higher). We talk over tea and I warn her about Raina, and about Claude’s mutterings that he might ask Cathy to work weekends. Then Elson, her new husband, arrives. He’s a teacher in nearby school and very pleasant. His brother is staying with them, silent on the sofa watching a DVD. It’s reassuring to find that some young Rwandan boys are just as uncommunicative and unsocial as English teenagers!

They walk me home and Tom’s just arrived back from work, so introductions all round. We’ve all been invited to Karen’s for lunch on Sunday, so it will a chance for all the volunteers in Git to meet up, whether VSO or FHI

While Tom cooks our evening meal (there’s a flurry of negotiations about money, cooking, laundry etc) I get the iron out and clean the soleplate. Then to my joy I discover that at a lower heat it works well and doesn’t snatch at our clothes. I manage to iron all my shirts save those in the wash, so feel pretty smug. (Offer to do Tom’s but he doesn’t bother with ironing). Tom cooks us a really good meal – meat, various veg), feeds me and the night guard too. We sit and talk for a couple of hours.

We try to get my wind up radio to work. I still can’t find BBC world service, but find Rwandan stations, all of which seem to be broadcasting religious stuff. A pity, because the row of shops opposite broadcasts loud music all day long. Mostly local stuff but a lot of reggae too. It’s not bad music, but a bit relentless. You can’t shut it out by closing our windows because each room has airbricks for ventilation, and the sound just comes in through them.

Eventually get out my new sleeping bag and – luxury – silk liner, and off to sleep

High point of the day – the flat. It’s lovely; I’m so spoilt
Low point – leaving friends in Kigali; feeling apprehensive about coping with work and sharing a flat with a stranger.