Yet more chillin"

Feb 10th

More idleness. Lazy breakfast, then a swim right across the little lake inlet and back ; about a kilometer and a half. There has been another group of English staying qt the Centre St Jean, but being true Brits we respect each other’s privacy until almost the last minute when we discover they’re the rump of VSO’s presence in Kenya. Apparently the situation in Kenya is judged to be so volatile, with violence likely to erupt at any location with absolutely no warning, that VSO has pulled the plug on its entire Kenyan operation and almost all its volunteers have been repatriated. This bunch of five have agreed to go to Uganda for a month and sit out the violence there, but have got bored with Kampala and decided to see the delights of Rwanda. Much hasty swapping of notes ensues; none of them are doing my equivalent job but several are teachers.

Alas, all good things come to an end. We need to get going home because Epi, for example, has a long and tricky journey ahead of her with the most difficult part at the end. She is out in the wilds, literally a kilometre from the Akagera National Park, and from time to time there are hippos around the site. Believe me, you don’t want to be on the road and meet one of them after dark!

We take our group photo (Bruce with his harem of six gorgeous young women; you should see the looks I’ve been getting from some of the Rwandan men. “It’s my charisma,” I mouth to them “and my staying power”….. Yeah, dream on)!

We get to the matata park in Kibuye to discover that Sunday transport tends to run either early in the morning, or in the afternoon. I, of course, have the least travel to do and every single bus goes through Gitarama, but the others are getting jumpy. For Tiga and Epi there are new first year classes starting on Monday and they have some hours of lesson preparation to do when they get home. Samira and Lisa leave on the moped; Samira’s finger seems to have healed but that girl is accident prone to the Nth degree and we hope she won’t have another scrape on her run home. We wait over an hour but get an express bus which turns out cheaper than the stopping matatas. It’s a lot comfier, too.

We grind our way up out of the rift valley; the clouds have lifted somewhat and the views are just wonderful. Everything is green, cultivated, fertile. God really does smile on this place when they aren’t busy killing each other!

But as we approach Gitarama it starts thundering yet again. No question, the wet season – dry season sequence is shot to bits this year. We go our separate ways at Gitarama; Epi and Marisa on to Kigali and more buses home; Tiga and Caroline to find a matata to Butare and Gikongoro. I make sure they’re safely in one and then splash through the puddles in my sandals back to the flat.

Suddenly I’m exhausted. There’s lots to do – water to put on to filter, food to check etc. Tom’s not back yet, so I mooch around for an hour and then get writing my blog entries which have lapsed badly. (I know a lot of these blogs probably seem wordy nonsense to you readers but I assure you every little sentence brings back a visual memory for me)!

Tom arrives back, also exhausted. He’s been to a wedding; the full works, out in the East. An army officer’s wedding, complete with military band and archway of drawn swords (mandatory when officers get married). Tom was particularly impressed with the guard of honour’s white gloves – till he saw they were plastic Marigolds! I suppose they’re army issue for tending battlefield wounds, especially when a serious proportion of your soldiery is HIV positive. He didn’t get away from the wedding till well after midnight, and the journey home involved towing another car full of guests which had run out of petrol. They towed them to the nearest garage, woke up the night guard who (of course) was fast asleep; got the night guard to wake up the owner; got the owner to come and unlock the pumps….. Can you imagine that happening along the A35 in Dorset? Tom arrived at his friend’s in Kigali at about half past three, and then was up early to face a three hour church service. He looks positively grey!

It gets dark and we decide to cook; I’m chopping onions and carrots for a stir fry when Cathy and Elson drop in. Another half hour of gossip over tea and biscuits (yes, BISCUITS – Tom’s been to Kigali); then the power goes off. It stays off all evening. We give up on our stir fry; instead we dry-fry bread rolls to make toast with peanut butter and jam, and pig out on more biscuits. We’re both tired and there isn’t anything to do so we go to bed early. The girls text to confirm they’ve got back safely. Tiga says their power in Gikongoro is also out; this means possibly the entire southern province is in the dark. She’s preparing lessons by kerosene lamp. I’m glad I’m an ancient district inspector and not facing six hours worth of little faces tomorrow! When Teresa rings I’ve been in bed an hour, but it’s so nice to hear her voice again and catch up on all the news from home. At around eleven o’clock the power comes back on but it’s too late to do anything except put phone and iPod on to charge overnight.

Best thing about today – swimming across part of Lake Kivu; it’s difficult to believe Africa can be so good.Worst thing – I really feel for the Kenyan VSOs. It must be awful to be in-post and getting the hang of things, like I am here, and then suddenly there’s civil war around you and you’re bundled back home away from your Kenyan colleagues and other VSO family.