Haircuts, aerial photos, gorilla poo and Ethiopian food

Apr 18th

Final day at Amani; we’re all getting tired and jaded. In the last Kinya-rwanda lesson we split into groups; while my lot gets extra vocabulary (I doubt if I’m ever going to use it but it shows willing; I’m amazed at how much grammar some people like Soraya and Épi have managed to learn), the others do role play. Cue an amazing performance by Cathie, Erick and Els of coping with a stroppy customer at a restaurant, all sung to the tune of “Bohemian Rhapsody”. Talk about a tour de force! Must be the first opera in Kinya-rwanda!

Well, all good things come to an end and by lunchtime we have the final speeches. During this week I seem to have become the group’s spokesperson and I give the vote of thanks to all the staff, saying that if we seem a good group it simply reflects the level of training they’ve been giving us etc. Some staff are close to tears.

Then we all charge up to the programme office to get mail and try to use the internet. I manage to download a load of emails from home, but there’s too big a queue to even think about sending blogs – I’ve got a fortnight’s worth or more of stuff all waiting to be posted online, including some pictures. Never mind, I’ll try again tomorrow morning.

While we wait to go out for the evening I’m conscious that my long, fuzzy hair is now looking quite ridiculous. George, bless him, volunteers to give me a snip and he does a wonderful job. I’ve got a professional quality haircut from an Indian volunteer who lives in Australia and is working in the far north-east of Rwanda, right up close to the Akagera Game Park. In fact his school and entire town stands on land sequestered from the Game Park to accommodate the country’s growing population. In return, I’m putting George up on Sunday night on his way back from Kibuye. The teachers are planning what to do with heir extra week’s holiday; I know I must get back into the office and normal work routine or I’ll be I serious trouble at Gitarama!

No sooner has my hair been cut when the two Dutch guys who have been putting up a tower crane right in the middle of Kigali return from work. (They’re also staying with us at Amani). Épi and I were hoping for a chance to climb the crane and take photos, but our week has been so full that we haven’t had a chance. So I arranged that one of the "Flying Dutchmen" would take lots of pictures with his camera (it’s almost identical to mine), and sure enough he comes back with a whole bunch of amazing pictures which we download onto my laptop. I’ll post one or two anon.

In the evening we all go up to Kimironko to an Ethiopian restaurant to celebrate the end of the course, to eat food different from Amani’s, and to celebrate Els’ birthday. The Ethiopian food is great – an enormous pancake with various meats and sauces dotted over it. Doesn’t look a lot at first, but, my, it was filling! At the restaurant we get joined by more and more volunteers and staff (word gets around), and soon we’re a group of seventeen and we’ve virtually taken the place over. We’re joined by Chris and Nicole, the two primary head teachers on NAHT ten-week placements who’ve just finished their post-service holiday and are off back to England tomorrow. They spent a fortune watching gorillas, but are full of it.

Nicole relates how they’re all crouching still in the deep grass, watching a huge silverback chomping away at the grass just a couple of feet from them. A juvenile climbs a tree so he’s vertically above them, then decides to do a poo and is audibly straining away in the branches right over their heads. With the silverback almost within touching distance nobody dares move, so they all hope the juvenile is either constipated or that they’re not directly in the line of fire……

OK, so in a couple of days this blog has gone from genocide to gorilla poo, but that’s Rwanda, folks!

After the meal we adjourn to a bar and then most of the gang decide to go clubbing. I’m not in the mood; don’t know why, but I wouldn’t enjoy it, so I trudge home at midnight through the streets back to Amani. That’s what’s nice about Kigali – even at midnight, on my own, on some pretty dark streets, I feel safe. The only pestering I get is from taxi drivers after custom, but I want to walk off some of the huge meal, and it’s a warm, calm night.

Best thing about today – haircut.
Worst thing – knowing all the others are going to have a blitz at the clubbing.