OK - it's been a while but I have been really busy. Work has been heavy/great/demanding (all of those) and I am also trying to write some other articles and bits and pieces. Was asked today to include all the presidents of the Parents' Committees in my training next Tuesday which basically means rewriting everything and wondering about the language aspect of the training - I can manage it in French (with one or two directors whose English is good enough to translate for me when necessary) but the parents reps are another matter.
Anyway, promise to update properly soon. My mother is arriving August 4th and is staying until the 25th so I had better get at least one good update in before then!!
Monday, July 20, 2009
Monday, July 13, 2009
Monday 13th July 2009: Day 310 in Rwanda (What? 310? Really?)
Please note that VSO is in no way connected with or responsible for the content, comments and observations in this blog: these are solely my own in a personal capacity.
KEN FRANKLIN'S BIRTHDAY PARTY LINE-UP
(As I didn't bring my camera, these are all previous pictures taken of the guests on various occasions. And I have no recent pictures of Steve with his beard and he looks COMPLETELY different to this picture but I didn't want to leave him out!). Surnames included at the request of various readers who are trying to keep track of everyone.
KEN FRANKLIN'S BIRTHDAY PARTY LINE-UP
(As I didn't bring my camera, these are all previous pictures taken of the guests on various occasions. And I have no recent pictures of Steve with his beard and he looks COMPLETELY different to this picture but I didn't want to leave him out!). Surnames included at the request of various readers who are trying to keep track of everyone.
Steve MacFadden and me.
Kerry Carrington and Amalia Da Silva Lima at Bruce's birthday party in Gahini
Ken Franklin (at Han and Mans' party) and Charlotte Shaw and Hayley Pert having one of their 'market clothes day' parties!
Cathryn Devine (at the St Patrick's Day party) and Bruce Upton (at his own birthday party)
Anyway, I trot out my few Kinyarwandan phrases, among which is the Kinyarwandan phrase for deoch an dorais or 'one for the road': agashingura cumu. Antoine is very pleased that I know this (Alfred: though, it must be said, he did express surprise that Ruairí can say something as abstruse as this but can't put a basic sentence together that includes a functioning verb!) and asks me if I know what it means? In olden days, only adult men were allowed to drink (pretty much still the rule) and all adult males carried a spear as a mark of their status and entitlements. When you visited someone's house to have a drink, you would drive your spear point-first into the ground outside the door of their hut/house. As the evening progressed towards its finale, at soem stage someone would suggest that it was time to go. Then another would say that they should have one final drink agashingura cumu - 'to give the strength needed to pull the spear out of the ground'. Nice one, eh?
SATURDAY
Moira Kelly at the St Patrick's Day party (like you couldn't guess)!
Kerry Carrington and Amalia Da Silva Lima at Bruce's birthday party in Gahini
Ken Franklin (at Han and Mans' party) and Charlotte Shaw and Hayley Pert having one of their 'market clothes day' parties!
Cathryn Devine (at the St Patrick's Day party) and Bruce Upton (at his own birthday party)
Well, it has been a great weekend, overall! Friday was fine at work, started writing up the reports for the two schools I had just visited and then found out that I was expected to teach an English class - sports has been rescheduled to Wednesdays so everyone presumed this meant the English class on Wednesday is rescheduled to Friday afternoon!
These classes are bad enough but, Friday afternoon? Ah well, I was hanging around anyway for the after-work bus into Butare so I said OK, grabbed some vocabulary sheets etc when I went home to pack and set up bright and early for class. One student came. One. And it was Antoine, of course, who is the only person actually interested in learning English for its own sake. His English is already quite good, to be fair, but he is very poor on the oral and aural aspects, so chatting to him and making him talk is probably the best thing I can do for him.
As we chat about languages in general, he notices I am reading a magazine and has a look at it - it is the May edition of COMHAR, an Irish-language magazine devoted to literature and politics (and other things thrown in as well) which a very kind friend sent me as a present. Intrigued by this, he asks me what languages I speak and how much Kinyarwandan I have been able to learn before (Alfred: this was after the 30-minute discussion on whether natives of this country should be described as 'Rwandans' or 'Rwandese'. 'Rwandan' does seem more natural as it fits with 'Ugandan', 'Kenyan', 'African', 'Nigerian' and so on, but we do use '-ese' in English too: 'Chinese', 'Maltese' and 'Japanese' spring to mind. Who cares? Well, lots of people it seems. If 'Rwandese' is being used because it is like the French 'Rwandaise', then they should be using 'Rwandan' in English; but if 'Rwandese' is a legitimate English ending in its own right, then that is OK. The politics of language: bet Ruairí can't wait to get back to Ireland to get away from that sort of thing .......)
Anyway, I trot out my few Kinyarwandan phrases, among which is the Kinyarwandan phrase for deoch an dorais or 'one for the road': agashingura cumu. Antoine is very pleased that I know this (Alfred: though, it must be said, he did express surprise that Ruairí can say something as abstruse as this but can't put a basic sentence together that includes a functioning verb!) and asks me if I know what it means? In olden days, only adult men were allowed to drink (pretty much still the rule) and all adult males carried a spear as a mark of their status and entitlements. When you visited someone's house to have a drink, you would drive your spear point-first into the ground outside the door of their hut/house. As the evening progressed towards its finale, at soem stage someone would suggest that it was time to go. Then another would say that they should have one final drink agashingura cumu - 'to give the strength needed to pull the spear out of the ground'. Nice one, eh?
Then off to Butare, bank for money and Faucon for beer, where Jane Keenan joined me. It was really great to catch up with Jane - I really missed her while she was back in England in hospital and, since she got back, we seem not to have seen each other very often. Anyway, we had a great chat and a nice bottle of red wine - can't remember the last time that happened!
SATURDAY
Saturday I wandered to the post office and found a surprise parcel! Usually I know parcels are coming because even when people send them as a surprise, after three or four weeks they email or something wondering if I got it. It hasn't arrived yet of course! This parcel contained two bars of really good chocolate, a copy of the Phoenix magazine and an article on dyscalculia (Alfred: Hmmm, wonder who on earth THAT could have been from???). Then hopped on the bus to Nyanza for Ken Franklin's birthday party.
Nyanza is a funny place. Ken says it is a great place to live and it looks like it could be - I've only been there twice and it has a strange feel to it but that is probably because I don't know it well. The market seemed nice but was closing up when I got there, the internet cafe was insanely slow, unbelievably so (Alfred: because, of course, Ken had emailed instructions on how to get to his house but Ruairí had neither printed them out nor written them down, had he!), and the omelette speciale in the cafe in the centre of town was as good as I remembered it from the last time.
I downloaded and wrote out the instructions to Ken's house, which seemed clear and then I checked in to the local motel which has the most unusual name of any hotel or guesthouse I have ever stayed in – Scanlife. What the hell is that about? I felt like asking but in either English or French, the process of just getting a room in an establishment whose sole raison d’être is to hire out rooms to visitors, usually tourists, was so prolonged and laborious that I felt no urge whatsoever to prolong the agony any further. The room was OK even if the place itself looked like a prison that had fallen on law-abiding times and was hiring one of its wings out to make a bit of cash on the side. It was RWF 8,000 for the night (€10) (Alfred: yep, the euro is now worth 800 francs, a big improvement on recently – long may it continue). They had rooms for RWF5,000 but there was no way I was starting the process all over again!! As I settled into the room, the girl reappeared lugging a large jerrycan of water – OK, no water today. Then she reappeared with a nice bar of soap in a box, a small tube of Colgate, also sealed in a box and a brand-new, quite expensive toothbrush! Definitely the first time I have had that level of accessories in a room (Alfred: which is probably the only difference between a RWF5,000 and RWF8,000 room! And he only took the toothpaste and left the rest behind!)
So I headed off (having purchased the Nido that Ken had asked for). (Alfred: for the sake of non-Rwandans – because EVERYONE in Rwanda knows what Nido is, it is powdered milk and a staple of the VSO diet here, though expensive. A standard tin of Nido costs 3500 francs which is well over half a day’s wages and you can get through one quite quickly, especially if you drink coffee as regularly as Ruairí does!) . The road was dusty but not too hilly, the weather was pleasant and the house was ... rather farther than I had expected. Eventually I began passing the kind of landmarks that I realised would have been mentioned in the instructions – either I was on the wrong road or had overshot by a long way! It was the latter (courtesy of a phone call to Bruce) so I headed back. This time I found myself almost back in town when I heard running steps behind me and turned to find Bruce sprinting after me as I had overshot the house again! (Alfred: or, to summarise the entire previous paragraph in a sensible way, “I bought some Nido and eventually found Ken’s house”!)
And we had a really great night. Present were Charlotte (Shaw), Hayley, Moira, Kerry, Amalia, Bruce, Cathryn , and Steve who turned up later having had a similar experience to mine in getting there (Alfred: actually Steve’s journey was much more interesting and worthy of a longer telling than the boring farrago outlined above, especially the bit where he ends up back in town on a moto, lost, and Cathryn jumps on another moto with Ruairí’s phone to head off and try and find him!!). There was really nice food (some of it VERY spicy) and brochettes, and a friend of Ken and Cathryn’s turned up with amazing deep fried bahjis (Alfred: that is NOT how you spell it, make an effort for goodness’ sake).
And then we played charades. Now, I have always enjoyed charades but tonight’s were a bit special. We started off with the usual book/film/play/TV thing and then moved on to a variant that seems to have evolved among VSO volunteers here in Rwanda – animal charades. You are given an animal and a descriptive word (usually an adjective but not necessarily – randy mosquito and anorexic aardvark were two of the ones I got to perform) and have to perform both simultaneously until someone guesses what it is. Later on, we decided (to speed things up) that the descriptor and animal had to be alliterative (mad monkey, ridiculous rooster, bewildered beetle, stoned snake, hesitant hippo, cantankerous crab and so on. I tried to get someone to do amorous amoeba but they objected that an amoeba isn’t an animal). It was great fun and there was some great acting but the absolute, hands-down winner for performance of the night had to be Steve’s performance as a lesbian lion to which mere words simple cannot do justice ... and I forgot to bring my camera. Those who were not there, just eat your .... heart out.
Then back to the hotel. In the bar there were various groups of Rwandan men in various stages of inebriation. One guy called to me when he saw my Chelsea shirt and told me he was a fanatical Liverpool fan (Alfred: the combination of alcohol and lack of secure command of either French or English on the Rwandan/Rwandese man's part makes that – and following - confident assertions by Ruairí somewhat less dependable than they might seem). He told me he was the local guy in charge of all security and if there were any problems, any problems at all, I was to come to HIM! Then he wanted to know what his job title would be in English and I told him District Security Chief sounded good to me. After fending off five offers of a beer or a Fanta (which, I couldn’t help notice, none of the other people at the table seemed to be encouraging me to accept and I suspect with my best interests at heart!) I headed for my room.
So I headed off (having purchased the Nido that Ken had asked for). (Alfred: for the sake of non-Rwandans – because EVERYONE in Rwanda knows what Nido is, it is powdered milk and a staple of the VSO diet here, though expensive. A standard tin of Nido costs 3500 francs which is well over half a day’s wages and you can get through one quite quickly, especially if you drink coffee as regularly as Ruairí does!) . The road was dusty but not too hilly, the weather was pleasant and the house was ... rather farther than I had expected. Eventually I began passing the kind of landmarks that I realised would have been mentioned in the instructions – either I was on the wrong road or had overshot by a long way! It was the latter (courtesy of a phone call to Bruce) so I headed back. This time I found myself almost back in town when I heard running steps behind me and turned to find Bruce sprinting after me as I had overshot the house again! (Alfred: or, to summarise the entire previous paragraph in a sensible way, “I bought some Nido and eventually found Ken’s house”!)
And we had a really great night. Present were Charlotte (Shaw), Hayley, Moira, Kerry, Amalia, Bruce, Cathryn , and Steve who turned up later having had a similar experience to mine in getting there (Alfred: actually Steve’s journey was much more interesting and worthy of a longer telling than the boring farrago outlined above, especially the bit where he ends up back in town on a moto, lost, and Cathryn jumps on another moto with Ruairí’s phone to head off and try and find him!!). There was really nice food (some of it VERY spicy) and brochettes, and a friend of Ken and Cathryn’s turned up with amazing deep fried bahjis (Alfred: that is NOT how you spell it, make an effort for goodness’ sake).
And then we played charades. Now, I have always enjoyed charades but tonight’s were a bit special. We started off with the usual book/film/play/TV thing and then moved on to a variant that seems to have evolved among VSO volunteers here in Rwanda – animal charades. You are given an animal and a descriptive word (usually an adjective but not necessarily – randy mosquito and anorexic aardvark were two of the ones I got to perform) and have to perform both simultaneously until someone guesses what it is. Later on, we decided (to speed things up) that the descriptor and animal had to be alliterative (mad monkey, ridiculous rooster, bewildered beetle, stoned snake, hesitant hippo, cantankerous crab and so on. I tried to get someone to do amorous amoeba but they objected that an amoeba isn’t an animal). It was great fun and there was some great acting but the absolute, hands-down winner for performance of the night had to be Steve’s performance as a lesbian lion to which mere words simple cannot do justice ... and I forgot to bring my camera. Those who were not there, just eat your .... heart out.
Then back to the hotel. In the bar there were various groups of Rwandan men in various stages of inebriation. One guy called to me when he saw my Chelsea shirt and told me he was a fanatical Liverpool fan (Alfred: the combination of alcohol and lack of secure command of either French or English on the Rwandan/Rwandese man's part makes that – and following - confident assertions by Ruairí somewhat less dependable than they might seem). He told me he was the local guy in charge of all security and if there were any problems, any problems at all, I was to come to HIM! Then he wanted to know what his job title would be in English and I told him District Security Chief sounded good to me. After fending off five offers of a beer or a Fanta (which, I couldn’t help notice, none of the other people at the table seemed to be encouraging me to accept and I suspect with my best interests at heart!) I headed for my room.
There I continued reading my C.J. Sanson novel accompanied by a half-bottle of pineapple waragi I miraculously discovered in my backpack. It really is one of these ‘unputdownable’ books and is not going to last me half as long as I had hoped. That means I will have finished three of the four existing books in the series so I will save the last one for when Mammy is here and we are travelling around together.
SUNDAY
Arose earlyish, splashed water on myself, did not brush my teeth (the water was just a little bit too brown for my taste) and headed back to Ken’s for breakfast. Ken had to head off for a baptism and when he left, he locked the gate behind him! So, having managed to push the gate open, someone had to stay on the inside to close it and then climb out over it. Hayley and I had to scoot off as her lift was waiting for her and I gather Amalia was nominated to carry out the acrobatics!! The driver who was collecting Hayley was called Paul and had li9ved in Dublin for a year, on Kimmage Road West where I lived as a very small child! When I said I lived in Dún Laoghaire he said he knew an Irishman called Paul Tierney (I think) who was from there, had worked in Rwanda and had married a Rwandan/Rwandese woman (Alfred: Oh, for goodness; sake, are we going to continue this pedantic b***shit for the next 300 days? They say 'Rwandese', that's good enough) and is now living back in Ireland. Small world! That means there might be someone living around Dún Laoghaire to give me Kinyarwandan lessons when I go back (Alfred: WHAT??? You are actually IN Rwanda at the moment, lessons cost next to nothing and you are thinking of waiting until you go BACK to take classes? What in the name of ....... I'm speechless).
Arose earlyish, splashed water on myself, did not brush my teeth (the water was just a little bit too brown for my taste) and headed back to Ken’s for breakfast. Ken had to head off for a baptism and when he left, he locked the gate behind him! So, having managed to push the gate open, someone had to stay on the inside to close it and then climb out over it. Hayley and I had to scoot off as her lift was waiting for her and I gather Amalia was nominated to carry out the acrobatics!! The driver who was collecting Hayley was called Paul and had li9ved in Dublin for a year, on Kimmage Road West where I lived as a very small child! When I said I lived in Dún Laoghaire he said he knew an Irishman called Paul Tierney (I think) who was from there, had worked in Rwanda and had married a Rwandan/Rwandese woman (Alfred: Oh, for goodness; sake, are we going to continue this pedantic b***shit for the next 300 days? They say 'Rwandese', that's good enough) and is now living back in Ireland. Small world! That means there might be someone living around Dún Laoghaire to give me Kinyarwandan lessons when I go back (Alfred: WHAT??? You are actually IN Rwanda at the moment, lessons cost next to nothing and you are thinking of waiting until you go BACK to take classes? What in the name of ....... I'm speechless).
And then shopping in Butare (bread, peanut butter, Nido, pasta, tuna, fruit juice, coffee, waragi and kidney beans. Couldn't find peanut oil for cooking anywhere and went to six places vefore I could find mayonnaise. An expensiove lot of stuff!). Then a coffee and a fanta in Faucon and home to Gisagara.
Friday, July 10, 2009
Week that started badly but got better
Please note that VSO is in no way connected with or responsible for the content, comments and observations in this blog: these are solely my own in a personal capacity.
Seemed to take my brain a few days to shake off Nairobi. Didn’t really sleep Monday or Tuesday nights (went out for beers with Enock on Tuesday followed by waragi – thought it might help the sleeplessness; didn’t). Trying to get my head around organising the training course for the week after next but couldn’t really do so. Meantime I get told by the District that the rent on my house hasn’t been paid for four months and can I please sort it out with VSO. This came as a surprise as I thought the District were supposed to be paying the rent! Turns out we agreed to pay it but only up to April and we HAD paid it up to April! Anyway, VSO have agreed to pay the missing two months but only if the District put in writing that they will take over responsibility from now on.
Big meeting Wednesday for the heads of all the new secondary schools – in other words, all the schools that were just primary schools until last year and now have the first year of secondary tagged on. Emile from MINEDUC was there, nice guy, I’ve gone on a few school inspections with him. He is looking very stressed as well he might be. The idea of the Nine Years’ Basic Education policy is that kids should stay in school until the end of third year secondary; the problem is that they are doing so! The extra rooms to accommodate the first year’s intake were found by making the primary classes double up but they have all been used up so they will have to build literally hundreds of new classrooms for next year. One school I visited this week has 81 students in their First Year but have had 266 applications for next year’s First Year (and this is the school that has only seven latrines for its existing 1440 students!!). I don’t envy Emile or the others trying to sort this one out!!
At the meeting I met Aimable and Muninazi, two heads of remote schools in Mugombwa sector, so I visited them today (Thursday). It was a long drive – Mushongi is so remote it is the first ever place I went to that my driver, Déo, had never even heard of. The longest-serving teacher in the school said I was the first ever person from outside the sector to visit it! They have no water, no electricity (Alfred: that goes without saying, apart from the odd solar panel, NONE of the primary schools have electricity) and six crumbling latrines for 880 students. The new director, appointed in April, has been warned that if the toilets actually fall down and injure anyone, he is responsible, but no one will give him the resources to do anything about it. He has not been paid his salary since he took over (none of the newly-appointed directors to these new schools have) and the capitation grants have not been paid for the second term. The poor guy sounded at his wits end. The same was true at Mugombwa school – as I said, 1440 students and seven latrines, no water supply, no salaries.
The awful thing – if that is the right word – is that they seem to think that my turning up means something is going to be done about it, as if I have some kind of magic connection to MINEDUC. All I can do is pass on my recommendations but knowing at the same time that all these schools are sending the same SOSs. Mugombwa school has started building rabbit hutches but had to stop halfway through because the capitation money was all used up. They are only RWF30,000 short (about €40) but, by the time they can do it, I suspect the existing work will have disintegrated and they will have to start all over again.
It has been an interesting experience visiting schools at this time. Two and a half weeks ago all schools started their end of term exams and then, while the teachers are correcting and writing reports, there are no classes. The kids hang around school, sometimes they are set jobs to do but basically the last week of term is a non-event. In both the schools I visited most of the students (and quite a lot of the teachers) hadn’t bothered coming in. This gets repeated three times a year, so that’s a big chunk of the school year wasted.
Anyway, headed off 0700, got back pretty wrecked by 1500 for my English class and the four students who – eventually – turned up for it. The knee held up pretty well, actually (Alfred: and a big thanks to all those who gave email and Facebook suggestions as to what to do about it or offered to ask their physiotherapists – thanks Lucia and Chris in particular!). Also cooked a nice dinner tonight for the first time in a while (Alfred: tomato and peppers pasta sauce followed by coffee – Ruairí needs to up his game in this regard if he is beginning to regard this as a culinary highlight, this from the guy who was going to write a Rwandan cookbook! More like a pamphlet...).
OTHER STUFF
Visitors!
Went out into the back yesterday afternoon and found a young girl standing in the back yard. She just smiled and waved and I presumed she was a friend or relation of Alexandré’s (my guard). However, you don’t want to let people wander around too much so, after going back into the house for my glasses I came out again. I saw her flitting over to the other side of the house as I went in and, when I came out, she was picking leaves off some plants that are growing in my garden (I had always presumed they were weeds, to be honest). She was accompanied by a guy in a (I swear this is true) Bush-Quayle t-shirt who greeted me loudly by name – ‘Ruairí, komera!’. Now, I figure most people know my name by now but then again maybe he was actually someone I knew so I said ‘hi’ and shook hands. The girl looked up rather sheepishly and explained in a mixture of French and Kinyarwandan that the imboga she was picking was a great source of vitamin A! So, I figured what the hell and left them to it. As I went back into the house, Alexandré turned up and almost collapsed in horror when he saw what was going on. I beat a hasty retreat into the house while he firmly ushered the two off the premises (I think she had pretty much picked what she wanted by then anyway).
Paralysis at work
We are all still waiting for the announcement of who is going to be redeployed from the Districts to the sectors and it is not having a good effect on people! Of the 42 or so in the District, we expect about ten or so to move and no-one knows who it is going to be. At the Monday morning meeting the Executive Secretary made a special announcement basically telling people to get on with their jobs and stop speculating or spreading ill-founded rumours as there is absolutely no hard information as of yet. Easy for him to say, he’s not the one liable to be moved to the other end of the District without warning!
Mother’s visit
There is huge excitement in the District Office at the prospect of my mother’s coming to visit! I had no idea it would cause such a stir, and when I mentioned that she was coming partly to celebrate my 50th birthday, the Executive got a glint in his eye and a grin that I am not quite sure what to make of! Should be interesting....... Haven’t actually told my boss yet that I am off from the 3rd to 25th August but the Executive gave me the all clear so that’s OK (Alfred: Ruairí should mention that his boss is actually away on leave ....)
Thanks
Thanks to Anne-Marie for the headtorch and calculator (Alfred: not to mention the first package actually addressed to ME! Headtorch comes in handy for spotting bats in the bedroom ... but what’s with the calculator??), everyone for the advice about the knee (especially those who told me to go on the Internet and look for exercises there (Alfred: who would have guessed Ruairí would have to be told to go on the Internet!!)), all my 5th and 6th Years (soon to be 6th Years and past pupils) for all their messages, to Maddie and the other TY mini-company people from last year for their contributions to my fund-raising (Alfred: Oh yes, if anyone does feel like contributing anything, Ruairí has now set up a Paypal account at roheithir@gmail.com so it is REALLY EASY to contribute!!), to Sarah and Graham MacFadden for their wonderful hospitality last weekend, C. J. Sansom for writing such brilliant Matthew Shardlake books, and whoever the genius was who invented mango-flavoured waragi.
If you are sending me stuff ...
I seem to have quite a few emails recently from people asking me if I need anything. I have most things to be honest but, if people feel the urgent need to send something, either chocolate or Cauliflower & Broccoli Cup-A-Soup would be welcome (no broccoli and precious little cauliflower in this country). Send to me or Alfred at BP 129, Butare, Rwanda. (Alfred: DON’T send chocolate with liquid or gooey fillings – it gets on my fur (and usually leaks in transit).
GROUPE SCOLAIRE MUSHONGI (818 students)
Latrines - boys' side. This block was actually built only a few years ago but to an abysmal standard.
Latrines - close-up. Most of them do not have doors and the very poor condition of the wood and concrete makes them almost impossible to clean.
Latrines - girls' side.
Two shots of the 'staff room'.
The director, Muhanuzi
GROUPE SCOLAIRE MUGOMBWA
The director, Aimable (left) and his vice-director whose name I was unable to ascertain!
Block of six latrines for boys and girls, two without doors. This block was built in 2007 when the previous block was demolished by a falling tree. This accounts, I am told, for the poor quality of construction.
Originlly the staff toilets, one of the two is now used by students to try and relieve the pressure.
Seemed to take my brain a few days to shake off Nairobi. Didn’t really sleep Monday or Tuesday nights (went out for beers with Enock on Tuesday followed by waragi – thought it might help the sleeplessness; didn’t). Trying to get my head around organising the training course for the week after next but couldn’t really do so. Meantime I get told by the District that the rent on my house hasn’t been paid for four months and can I please sort it out with VSO. This came as a surprise as I thought the District were supposed to be paying the rent! Turns out we agreed to pay it but only up to April and we HAD paid it up to April! Anyway, VSO have agreed to pay the missing two months but only if the District put in writing that they will take over responsibility from now on.
Big meeting Wednesday for the heads of all the new secondary schools – in other words, all the schools that were just primary schools until last year and now have the first year of secondary tagged on. Emile from MINEDUC was there, nice guy, I’ve gone on a few school inspections with him. He is looking very stressed as well he might be. The idea of the Nine Years’ Basic Education policy is that kids should stay in school until the end of third year secondary; the problem is that they are doing so! The extra rooms to accommodate the first year’s intake were found by making the primary classes double up but they have all been used up so they will have to build literally hundreds of new classrooms for next year. One school I visited this week has 81 students in their First Year but have had 266 applications for next year’s First Year (and this is the school that has only seven latrines for its existing 1440 students!!). I don’t envy Emile or the others trying to sort this one out!!
At the meeting I met Aimable and Muninazi, two heads of remote schools in Mugombwa sector, so I visited them today (Thursday). It was a long drive – Mushongi is so remote it is the first ever place I went to that my driver, Déo, had never even heard of. The longest-serving teacher in the school said I was the first ever person from outside the sector to visit it! They have no water, no electricity (Alfred: that goes without saying, apart from the odd solar panel, NONE of the primary schools have electricity) and six crumbling latrines for 880 students. The new director, appointed in April, has been warned that if the toilets actually fall down and injure anyone, he is responsible, but no one will give him the resources to do anything about it. He has not been paid his salary since he took over (none of the newly-appointed directors to these new schools have) and the capitation grants have not been paid for the second term. The poor guy sounded at his wits end. The same was true at Mugombwa school – as I said, 1440 students and seven latrines, no water supply, no salaries.
The awful thing – if that is the right word – is that they seem to think that my turning up means something is going to be done about it, as if I have some kind of magic connection to MINEDUC. All I can do is pass on my recommendations but knowing at the same time that all these schools are sending the same SOSs. Mugombwa school has started building rabbit hutches but had to stop halfway through because the capitation money was all used up. They are only RWF30,000 short (about €40) but, by the time they can do it, I suspect the existing work will have disintegrated and they will have to start all over again.
It has been an interesting experience visiting schools at this time. Two and a half weeks ago all schools started their end of term exams and then, while the teachers are correcting and writing reports, there are no classes. The kids hang around school, sometimes they are set jobs to do but basically the last week of term is a non-event. In both the schools I visited most of the students (and quite a lot of the teachers) hadn’t bothered coming in. This gets repeated three times a year, so that’s a big chunk of the school year wasted.
Anyway, headed off 0700, got back pretty wrecked by 1500 for my English class and the four students who – eventually – turned up for it. The knee held up pretty well, actually (Alfred: and a big thanks to all those who gave email and Facebook suggestions as to what to do about it or offered to ask their physiotherapists – thanks Lucia and Chris in particular!). Also cooked a nice dinner tonight for the first time in a while (Alfred: tomato and peppers pasta sauce followed by coffee – Ruairí needs to up his game in this regard if he is beginning to regard this as a culinary highlight, this from the guy who was going to write a Rwandan cookbook! More like a pamphlet...).
OTHER STUFF
Visitors!
Went out into the back yesterday afternoon and found a young girl standing in the back yard. She just smiled and waved and I presumed she was a friend or relation of Alexandré’s (my guard). However, you don’t want to let people wander around too much so, after going back into the house for my glasses I came out again. I saw her flitting over to the other side of the house as I went in and, when I came out, she was picking leaves off some plants that are growing in my garden (I had always presumed they were weeds, to be honest). She was accompanied by a guy in a (I swear this is true) Bush-Quayle t-shirt who greeted me loudly by name – ‘Ruairí, komera!’. Now, I figure most people know my name by now but then again maybe he was actually someone I knew so I said ‘hi’ and shook hands. The girl looked up rather sheepishly and explained in a mixture of French and Kinyarwandan that the imboga she was picking was a great source of vitamin A! So, I figured what the hell and left them to it. As I went back into the house, Alexandré turned up and almost collapsed in horror when he saw what was going on. I beat a hasty retreat into the house while he firmly ushered the two off the premises (I think she had pretty much picked what she wanted by then anyway).
Paralysis at work
We are all still waiting for the announcement of who is going to be redeployed from the Districts to the sectors and it is not having a good effect on people! Of the 42 or so in the District, we expect about ten or so to move and no-one knows who it is going to be. At the Monday morning meeting the Executive Secretary made a special announcement basically telling people to get on with their jobs and stop speculating or spreading ill-founded rumours as there is absolutely no hard information as of yet. Easy for him to say, he’s not the one liable to be moved to the other end of the District without warning!
Mother’s visit
There is huge excitement in the District Office at the prospect of my mother’s coming to visit! I had no idea it would cause such a stir, and when I mentioned that she was coming partly to celebrate my 50th birthday, the Executive got a glint in his eye and a grin that I am not quite sure what to make of! Should be interesting....... Haven’t actually told my boss yet that I am off from the 3rd to 25th August but the Executive gave me the all clear so that’s OK (Alfred: Ruairí should mention that his boss is actually away on leave ....)
Thanks
Thanks to Anne-Marie for the headtorch and calculator (Alfred: not to mention the first package actually addressed to ME! Headtorch comes in handy for spotting bats in the bedroom ... but what’s with the calculator??), everyone for the advice about the knee (especially those who told me to go on the Internet and look for exercises there (Alfred: who would have guessed Ruairí would have to be told to go on the Internet!!)), all my 5th and 6th Years (soon to be 6th Years and past pupils) for all their messages, to Maddie and the other TY mini-company people from last year for their contributions to my fund-raising (Alfred: Oh yes, if anyone does feel like contributing anything, Ruairí has now set up a Paypal account at roheithir@gmail.com so it is REALLY EASY to contribute!!), to Sarah and Graham MacFadden for their wonderful hospitality last weekend, C. J. Sansom for writing such brilliant Matthew Shardlake books, and whoever the genius was who invented mango-flavoured waragi.
If you are sending me stuff ...
I seem to have quite a few emails recently from people asking me if I need anything. I have most things to be honest but, if people feel the urgent need to send something, either chocolate or Cauliflower & Broccoli Cup-A-Soup would be welcome (no broccoli and precious little cauliflower in this country). Send to me or Alfred at BP 129, Butare, Rwanda. (Alfred: DON’T send chocolate with liquid or gooey fillings – it gets on my fur (and usually leaks in transit).
GROUPE SCOLAIRE MUSHONGI (818 students)
Latrines - boys' side. This block was actually built only a few years ago but to an abysmal standard.
Latrines - close-up. Most of them do not have doors and the very poor condition of the wood and concrete makes them almost impossible to clean.
Latrines - girls' side.
Two shots of the 'staff room'.
The director, Muhanuzi
GROUPE SCOLAIRE MUGOMBWA
The director, Aimable (left) and his vice-director whose name I was unable to ascertain!
Block of six latrines for boys and girls, two without doors. This block was built in 2007 when the previous block was demolished by a falling tree. This accounts, I am told, for the poor quality of construction.
Originlly the staff toilets, one of the two is now used by students to try and relieve the pressure.
The rabbit-hutches, half-built. Aimable hopes to raise the additional €40 to complete it from the capitation fund ... once it arrives!
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
Boring Entry but cute pictures!!
Please note that VSO is in no way connected with or responsible for the content, comments and observations in this blog: these are solely my own in a personal capacity.
HOME FROM NAIROBI
So, back to Kigali on Friday, went to Graham and Sarah MacFadden’s house where I am staying for the weekend and droped off my stuff. Then off to meet Mike and Tamsin and the twins!!! Matthew and Annabel (see pictures) are still really tiny but (Alfred: and bear in mind, friends and family, who exactly is saying this) SO cute!! Then back to Graham and Sarah’s for ... Indian Kazana takeaway!! (You have to have been in Kigali to appreciate what this means).
Saturday was Liberation Day, a big national holiday celebrating the day the genocide finally ended and I, of course, forgot. So I toddled off to do things and visit people and found everyone out or closed or whatever. Eventually I found a bunch of people in Blues Café so I hung out there for a bit – Sarah turned up to collect her surge protector!! Then I met up with Micheál Boland and we went back to Sarah and Graham’s to watch the rugby. Then back to La Planete to meet Andy and Jane and Thom and then back to Sarah and Graham’s (Alfred: Sweet Lord above, could this be any more boring? I keep telling him, a blog is NOT a diary, you are supposed to record the interesting things that happen, acid or penetrating observations on the society around you, witty and entertaining comments, NOT brushing your teeth, shopping and the order you put your socks on!)
Good point. Actually it was really nice hanging out with Graham and Sarah, whom I hadn’t seen in a while – they are the British Council here in Rwanda (John Simpson is also but he seems to have been permanently kidnapped by MINEDUC) and doing a damn good job! But, Alfred is right .... headed down to Butare Sunday after meeting Steve MacFadden for coffee (Alfred: and, if the eagle-eyed among you are awake, you will have spotted that Steve from Vancouver and Graham from ... wherever in England have the same surname. Are they related? Probably, as both their ancestors hail from the same small village in County Louth. The story would be better if I could remember the name of the village but there you go – still quite a coincidence).
Tamsin and Annabel on the left, Mike (VSO Rwanda Country Director) and Matthew on the right.
HOME FROM NAIROBI
So, back to Kigali on Friday, went to Graham and Sarah MacFadden’s house where I am staying for the weekend and droped off my stuff. Then off to meet Mike and Tamsin and the twins!!! Matthew and Annabel (see pictures) are still really tiny but (Alfred: and bear in mind, friends and family, who exactly is saying this) SO cute!! Then back to Graham and Sarah’s for ... Indian Kazana takeaway!! (You have to have been in Kigali to appreciate what this means).
Saturday was Liberation Day, a big national holiday celebrating the day the genocide finally ended and I, of course, forgot. So I toddled off to do things and visit people and found everyone out or closed or whatever. Eventually I found a bunch of people in Blues Café so I hung out there for a bit – Sarah turned up to collect her surge protector!! Then I met up with Micheál Boland and we went back to Sarah and Graham’s to watch the rugby. Then back to La Planete to meet Andy and Jane and Thom and then back to Sarah and Graham’s (Alfred: Sweet Lord above, could this be any more boring? I keep telling him, a blog is NOT a diary, you are supposed to record the interesting things that happen, acid or penetrating observations on the society around you, witty and entertaining comments, NOT brushing your teeth, shopping and the order you put your socks on!)
Good point. Actually it was really nice hanging out with Graham and Sarah, whom I hadn’t seen in a while – they are the British Council here in Rwanda (John Simpson is also but he seems to have been permanently kidnapped by MINEDUC) and doing a damn good job! But, Alfred is right .... headed down to Butare Sunday after meeting Steve MacFadden for coffee (Alfred: and, if the eagle-eyed among you are awake, you will have spotted that Steve from Vancouver and Graham from ... wherever in England have the same surname. Are they related? Probably, as both their ancestors hail from the same small village in County Louth. The story would be better if I could remember the name of the village but there you go – still quite a coincidence).
Alfred: Next instalment: Nairobi v. Kigali, Kenya v. Rwanda - reflections!!
Tamsin and Annabel on the left, Mike (VSO Rwanda Country Director) and Matthew on the right.
GOODBYE NAIROBI!
Please note that VSO is in no way connected with or responsible for the content, comments and observations in this blog: these are solely my own in a personal capacity.
FRIDAY
I forgot to say that the previous day I had again called to the VSO Kenya office which is just down the road from the hotel hoping to see Esther who is the person here who was handling the arrangments for my visit. She turned out to be in a meeting so I left a note explaining what had happened to date and my phone number – I was partly concerned that VSO might end up paying twice – once through the insurance company and then again to me when I claimed back what I had spent.
Later that afternoon, as I was en route from the Doctors’ Plaza to the radiology unit, she rang me, or at least attempted to. It was like a flashback to the Irish telephone system of the 1970s when any long-distance call was a rollercoaster ride into the unknown! Granted her call was being shunted over to Rwanda and back again to me in Kenya but the effects were startling. There was a six-second time delay between one person speaking and the other person hearing (I timed it!) and then you could hear your own voice the second time round as clear as day. However, when the other person spoke, by the time the words arrived, they had been slowed down and distorted like a second-rate special effect from a science fiction film (or a bit like the dream sequences in Twin Peaks, if anyone other than me remembers them). Eventually she gave up, which was probably the right option!
But on Friday morning, just after I had stepped out of the shower, there was a knock on the door and I was told there was a call for me at reception. It was Esther all right and we had a good chat. She explained that she had never received final notification that I was indeed coming (flight details etc) or else there would have been someone to meet me at the airport, they would have given me the documentation I needed etc. (Alfred: Hmmm, if so then why was the accommodation booked, albeit for only two nights?). She wanted to check that I had enough money and whether I needed anything else. I explained that I was actually about to head for the airport but that everything had turned out all right in the end!
And off to the airport I went, a little bit early but I prefer to get there in time and get the hassle over with. Plus I figured I had better allow for Nairobi’s traffic – and I was right. Not that we ran too late but it took much longer than I would have expected. The airport was fine, other than a little difficulty at security where the elderly guard was very concerned that they would not let me on board the plane with my walking stick – I told him I would take my chances! The airport is quite nice actually, despite the various horror stories I had heard about it. I think the problem is that people are often stuck there for eight or twelve hours and nowhere in the world is going to be pleasant in that situation. And maybe it was quieter where I was – mostly local flights within Kenya or to immediately neighbouring countries.
Anyway, bought some clothes in duty free (Alfred: I am so waiting for when we can get a photo of him in his new caftan with the mother-of-pearl buttons and little hat up on the internet – puts that Kampala shirt of his in the shade!), grabbed some lunch and then headed off to the boarding area. Schoolboy error – no fluids in your carry-on luggage!!! There went my bottle of water, small 25cl red wine and a bottle of cane spirit (glad to see the back of that one to be honest!). Like I haven’t travelled often enough to know this but I seem to do it every trip. Thank goodness I had put the plum sauce in the main luggage – that would have been a real disaster!! Plus they missed one of the two small bottles of wine!
Flight was fine, landed on time, almost managed to finish the Stephen King I had begun reading the previous day (Dreamcatcher, OK though it went a bit off the rails towards the end) and then headed to AEE, the guesthouse where the VSO Education Conference was finishing. Found out – not to my surprise – that I had been elected to the Education Steering Committee in my absence. But nice to be home!!
RANDOM RECENT PICTURES (and I have tried to re-arrange them five times and they and their captions are still all over the place - sorry!)
Gotta be the coolest and the creepiest spare room in Rwanda! Go stay with Sarah, Christiane and Rinske and admire the decor. Hope the kid who used to live there knows a good therapist ...
Déo Gratias, my moto driver (and thanks to all who contributed towards getting him the bike). Today is the second anniversary of his being released from prison, July 6th 2007, after spending fifteen years in prison as a case of mistaken identity.
I think this is my favourite picture so far .. and it isn't even mine, I stole it from Joe Walk's website/blog. Here, Joe is being sworn in as a member of the Rwandan Girl Guides ...
FRIDAY
I forgot to say that the previous day I had again called to the VSO Kenya office which is just down the road from the hotel hoping to see Esther who is the person here who was handling the arrangments for my visit. She turned out to be in a meeting so I left a note explaining what had happened to date and my phone number – I was partly concerned that VSO might end up paying twice – once through the insurance company and then again to me when I claimed back what I had spent.
Later that afternoon, as I was en route from the Doctors’ Plaza to the radiology unit, she rang me, or at least attempted to. It was like a flashback to the Irish telephone system of the 1970s when any long-distance call was a rollercoaster ride into the unknown! Granted her call was being shunted over to Rwanda and back again to me in Kenya but the effects were startling. There was a six-second time delay between one person speaking and the other person hearing (I timed it!) and then you could hear your own voice the second time round as clear as day. However, when the other person spoke, by the time the words arrived, they had been slowed down and distorted like a second-rate special effect from a science fiction film (or a bit like the dream sequences in Twin Peaks, if anyone other than me remembers them). Eventually she gave up, which was probably the right option!
But on Friday morning, just after I had stepped out of the shower, there was a knock on the door and I was told there was a call for me at reception. It was Esther all right and we had a good chat. She explained that she had never received final notification that I was indeed coming (flight details etc) or else there would have been someone to meet me at the airport, they would have given me the documentation I needed etc. (Alfred: Hmmm, if so then why was the accommodation booked, albeit for only two nights?). She wanted to check that I had enough money and whether I needed anything else. I explained that I was actually about to head for the airport but that everything had turned out all right in the end!
And off to the airport I went, a little bit early but I prefer to get there in time and get the hassle over with. Plus I figured I had better allow for Nairobi’s traffic – and I was right. Not that we ran too late but it took much longer than I would have expected. The airport was fine, other than a little difficulty at security where the elderly guard was very concerned that they would not let me on board the plane with my walking stick – I told him I would take my chances! The airport is quite nice actually, despite the various horror stories I had heard about it. I think the problem is that people are often stuck there for eight or twelve hours and nowhere in the world is going to be pleasant in that situation. And maybe it was quieter where I was – mostly local flights within Kenya or to immediately neighbouring countries.
Anyway, bought some clothes in duty free (Alfred: I am so waiting for when we can get a photo of him in his new caftan with the mother-of-pearl buttons and little hat up on the internet – puts that Kampala shirt of his in the shade!), grabbed some lunch and then headed off to the boarding area. Schoolboy error – no fluids in your carry-on luggage!!! There went my bottle of water, small 25cl red wine and a bottle of cane spirit (glad to see the back of that one to be honest!). Like I haven’t travelled often enough to know this but I seem to do it every trip. Thank goodness I had put the plum sauce in the main luggage – that would have been a real disaster!! Plus they missed one of the two small bottles of wine!
Flight was fine, landed on time, almost managed to finish the Stephen King I had begun reading the previous day (Dreamcatcher, OK though it went a bit off the rails towards the end) and then headed to AEE, the guesthouse where the VSO Education Conference was finishing. Found out – not to my surprise – that I had been elected to the Education Steering Committee in my absence. But nice to be home!!
RANDOM RECENT PICTURES (and I have tried to re-arrange them five times and they and their captions are still all over the place - sorry!)
Gotta be the coolest and the creepiest spare room in Rwanda! Go stay with Sarah, Christiane and Rinske and admire the decor. Hope the kid who used to live there knows a good therapist ...
Sitting opposite the Amahoro Stadium waiting for Sarah and this thing showed up - anyone any idea what it is called?
Little kid in the bar opposite Amahoro Stadium - thought she was going to make a grab for the lollipop!!
Déo Gratias, my moto driver (and thanks to all who contributed towards getting him the bike). Today is the second anniversary of his being released from prison, July 6th 2007, after spending fifteen years in prison as a case of mistaken identity.
I think this is my favourite picture so far .. and it isn't even mine, I stole it from Joe Walk's website/blog. Here, Joe is being sworn in as a member of the Rwandan Girl Guides ...
A new Rwandan advertising campaign - I'll let you figure out what it is supposed to be for or against!!
Monday, July 6, 2009
Nairobi Notes 2
Please note that VSO is in no way connected with or responsible for the content, comments and observations in this blog: these are solely my own in a personal capacity.
THURSDAY
Late rising, usual breakfast but this time in the company of a very large group of what seemed to be 40 or so American evangelical students or something of that ilk. Nobody should be that loud or cheerful at 0800 in the morning (and I am a morning person). Breakfast was sausages (3), beans (looked like baked beans but slightly spicy and with green bits, hopefully peppers), tomato with cheese on it, fried potatoes, toast (4 pieces), coffee and marmalade. Oh yes!
(Alfred: by now, readers of this and other blogs – and there are MUCH better Rwandan blogs than this one: try Marion at www.heathenblogging.blogspot.com or Bruce’s at www.bruceswanderings.blogspot.com or Tina at www.tinainrwanda.blogspot.com or Joe Walk at www.getjealous.com/Joewalk. Mind you Andy’s at www.andycrow.wordpress.com is ... well, let’s just say the enthusiasm seems to have run out, though the one or two entries he has aren’t bad. Anyway, as I was saying before this enormous tangent (Ruairí: tangents are infinite, mathematically speaking so how can a tangent be enormous?) Oh Jaysus, SO Ruairí. FOOD! VSO volunteers spend insane amounts of time talking about FOOD! Read Bruce’s blog if you don’t believe me, every meal since he arrived lovingly detailed. Ruairí’s too - what herbs and spices he has, seventeen ways to use a leftover cabbage once you have hacked off the black mould, the amazing taste of peanut butter and tea, etc etc etc.) It’s true. I remember when we had just arrived in Kigali and the volunteers who were helping with our training started drooling at the sight of the food which we had been – to be honest – a bit so-so about: now I know exactly what they were on about.
Then, after breakfast (remember breakfast?) I headed to Nakumatt! This is a department store/supermarket à la Tesco, sort of. We have a Nakumatt in Kigali but I wanted to see a Kenyan one. And it was ... a supermarket. Just like at home, to be honest. It did make me worry a bit about reacclimatizing as I found it a bit overwhelming – I mean. Three kinds of Litchee juice? – (Alfred: Ha ha – do Niamh and MT remember our quest for litchee-flavoured genever?) .
Anyway. Enough of that. Bought the surge protectors, groundnuts, chocolate for Déo, sticking plasters, forget what else to be honest. Then I had Szechuan Chicken in the food court and it tasted just like ... Szechuan chicken!! Such a disappointment! In Rwanda the fun is figuring out what they are going to do to the recipe you know, I was actually quite disappointed when it tasted exactly as I would have expected!! And the Tusker beer was definitely underwhelming – give me Primus or Mützig any time. Home to drop the stuff and then off to find an orthopaedic surgeon.
I can’t see my previous entry as I write this so I had better explain. I had the scan at 1700 yesterday so the results won’t be ready until 1700 today. I have no idea whether I will get any interpretation of the results so I want to find a surgeon who is either working late today or early tomorrow to look at the MRI thingies (Alfred: gotta love a guy who prides himself on his English and still uses the word ‘thingies’) and tell me what they mean. So I call into the Doctor’s Plaza – an enormous suite/complex/town of private doctor’s clinics. As I come in with my scuffed sneakers and stick and small backpack I feel SO scruffy!! I go up to the information desk where a very tall Kenyan guy in a blue uniform is slumped over the counter. I explain, slowly, that I am looking for an orthopaedic surgeon for advice about an MRI scan. He picks up a piece of paper and, in about thirty seconds, writes down the names and office numbers of six different surgeons, meanwhile giving me directions and information on which of them are likely to work late, have openings in their appointments books and so on. Wow!
Dr Odinga listens gravely to me, tells me that neither he nor any of his colleagues will be working late that night, expresses a certain amount of scepticism as to whether I am actually likely to get the results this evening but says he will be in at 0800 tomorrow if I want to see him. He also tells me, based on my account of the accident and symptoms, that he suspects all I need is some physiotherapy as my cruciate ligament is probably in need of some help to get back into working order – but he can’t be sure until he sees the scans.
And then off to the radiology clinic. I waited about an hour (I had got there an hour early it should be said) and then the receptionist appeared with my stuff but asked me to wait while she typed it up. Again, both she and the doctor/technician involved seemed to be staying late to accommodate me. Then she presented me with a giant envelope and off I went home.
On the way I had an unusual experience (Alfred: Well, unusual outside of Rwanda) – a guy asked me for money! This was the first time in either Kenya or Uganda anyone had asked me for money! And, seeing as I wasn’t in Rwanda, it was far more subtle and, to be blunt, pleasant. He was originally from Zimbabwe, had been a teacher there but lost his job and ended up here in Nairobi. He talked about the cost of food and accommodation but never actually asked me for anything straight out (Alfred: SUCKER!!!!) So I gave him what he said he needed for dinner, 100 Kenyan shillings which is the princely sum of £1. Sad in quite a number of different ways, both for him and me actually.
Once I got back to the hotel I couldn’t really face heading out again. I looked at all the MRI thingies which looked like those sonograms of embryos in which people claim they can recognise features but actually all look the same (mine being of knees remember). But the accompanying printout was quite detailed and made me decide not to bother going to see the surgeon the following morning (Alfred: And before Seosamh, Orla and any other surgeons out there have a fit let me remind you that a) he had not made an appointment b) Dr Odinga had said he was going to squeeze him in before his regular appointments c) he texted Dr Odinga to say he was not going to come and got a reply acknowledging this. OK? Everyone cool?) So, quiet dinner in the Gracehouse Hotel – quite nice Salade Niçoise - and then Kenyan TV (swine flu, swine flu, swine flu, swine flu, swine flu, swine flu........) and a few 25cl Casillero del Diablo or whatever they are called. (Alfred: those were from the supermarket around the corner where he also bought rice vinegar, plum sauce, ground ginger, cumin, some mixed Indian pepper spice and other stuff like that. Yeah, like I said earlier – food fixation). And so to bed.
THURSDAY
Late rising, usual breakfast but this time in the company of a very large group of what seemed to be 40 or so American evangelical students or something of that ilk. Nobody should be that loud or cheerful at 0800 in the morning (and I am a morning person). Breakfast was sausages (3), beans (looked like baked beans but slightly spicy and with green bits, hopefully peppers), tomato with cheese on it, fried potatoes, toast (4 pieces), coffee and marmalade. Oh yes!
(Alfred: by now, readers of this and other blogs – and there are MUCH better Rwandan blogs than this one: try Marion at www.heathenblogging.blogspot.com or Bruce’s at www.bruceswanderings.blogspot.com or Tina at www.tinainrwanda.blogspot.com or Joe Walk at www.getjealous.com/Joewalk. Mind you Andy’s at www.andycrow.wordpress.com is ... well, let’s just say the enthusiasm seems to have run out, though the one or two entries he has aren’t bad. Anyway, as I was saying before this enormous tangent (Ruairí: tangents are infinite, mathematically speaking so how can a tangent be enormous?) Oh Jaysus, SO Ruairí. FOOD! VSO volunteers spend insane amounts of time talking about FOOD! Read Bruce’s blog if you don’t believe me, every meal since he arrived lovingly detailed. Ruairí’s too - what herbs and spices he has, seventeen ways to use a leftover cabbage once you have hacked off the black mould, the amazing taste of peanut butter and tea, etc etc etc.) It’s true. I remember when we had just arrived in Kigali and the volunteers who were helping with our training started drooling at the sight of the food which we had been – to be honest – a bit so-so about: now I know exactly what they were on about.
Then, after breakfast (remember breakfast?) I headed to Nakumatt! This is a department store/supermarket à la Tesco, sort of. We have a Nakumatt in Kigali but I wanted to see a Kenyan one. And it was ... a supermarket. Just like at home, to be honest. It did make me worry a bit about reacclimatizing as I found it a bit overwhelming – I mean. Three kinds of Litchee juice? – (Alfred: Ha ha – do Niamh and MT remember our quest for litchee-flavoured genever?) .
Anyway. Enough of that. Bought the surge protectors, groundnuts, chocolate for Déo, sticking plasters, forget what else to be honest. Then I had Szechuan Chicken in the food court and it tasted just like ... Szechuan chicken!! Such a disappointment! In Rwanda the fun is figuring out what they are going to do to the recipe you know, I was actually quite disappointed when it tasted exactly as I would have expected!! And the Tusker beer was definitely underwhelming – give me Primus or Mützig any time. Home to drop the stuff and then off to find an orthopaedic surgeon.
I can’t see my previous entry as I write this so I had better explain. I had the scan at 1700 yesterday so the results won’t be ready until 1700 today. I have no idea whether I will get any interpretation of the results so I want to find a surgeon who is either working late today or early tomorrow to look at the MRI thingies (Alfred: gotta love a guy who prides himself on his English and still uses the word ‘thingies’) and tell me what they mean. So I call into the Doctor’s Plaza – an enormous suite/complex/town of private doctor’s clinics. As I come in with my scuffed sneakers and stick and small backpack I feel SO scruffy!! I go up to the information desk where a very tall Kenyan guy in a blue uniform is slumped over the counter. I explain, slowly, that I am looking for an orthopaedic surgeon for advice about an MRI scan. He picks up a piece of paper and, in about thirty seconds, writes down the names and office numbers of six different surgeons, meanwhile giving me directions and information on which of them are likely to work late, have openings in their appointments books and so on. Wow!
Dr Odinga listens gravely to me, tells me that neither he nor any of his colleagues will be working late that night, expresses a certain amount of scepticism as to whether I am actually likely to get the results this evening but says he will be in at 0800 tomorrow if I want to see him. He also tells me, based on my account of the accident and symptoms, that he suspects all I need is some physiotherapy as my cruciate ligament is probably in need of some help to get back into working order – but he can’t be sure until he sees the scans.
And then off to the radiology clinic. I waited about an hour (I had got there an hour early it should be said) and then the receptionist appeared with my stuff but asked me to wait while she typed it up. Again, both she and the doctor/technician involved seemed to be staying late to accommodate me. Then she presented me with a giant envelope and off I went home.
On the way I had an unusual experience (Alfred: Well, unusual outside of Rwanda) – a guy asked me for money! This was the first time in either Kenya or Uganda anyone had asked me for money! And, seeing as I wasn’t in Rwanda, it was far more subtle and, to be blunt, pleasant. He was originally from Zimbabwe, had been a teacher there but lost his job and ended up here in Nairobi. He talked about the cost of food and accommodation but never actually asked me for anything straight out (Alfred: SUCKER!!!!) So I gave him what he said he needed for dinner, 100 Kenyan shillings which is the princely sum of £1. Sad in quite a number of different ways, both for him and me actually.
Once I got back to the hotel I couldn’t really face heading out again. I looked at all the MRI thingies which looked like those sonograms of embryos in which people claim they can recognise features but actually all look the same (mine being of knees remember). But the accompanying printout was quite detailed and made me decide not to bother going to see the surgeon the following morning (Alfred: And before Seosamh, Orla and any other surgeons out there have a fit let me remind you that a) he had not made an appointment b) Dr Odinga had said he was going to squeeze him in before his regular appointments c) he texted Dr Odinga to say he was not going to come and got a reply acknowledging this. OK? Everyone cool?) So, quiet dinner in the Gracehouse Hotel – quite nice Salade Niçoise - and then Kenyan TV (swine flu, swine flu, swine flu, swine flu, swine flu, swine flu........) and a few 25cl Casillero del Diablo or whatever they are called. (Alfred: those were from the supermarket around the corner where he also bought rice vinegar, plum sauce, ground ginger, cumin, some mixed Indian pepper spice and other stuff like that. Yeah, like I said earlier – food fixation). And so to bed.
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
Notes from Nairobi 1
TUESDAY
Flew in from Kigali on the Bjumbura-Nairobi flight. Kenyan Airways was fine, got fed on a one hour flight (you forget people do this kind of thing when you are always going Ryanair). Got in to Nairobi, and found arrivals completely buzzing with people wearing masks and handing out forms for us all to fill out about swine flu! This took a long time, partnered with the visa entry procedures as well. What’s the big idea with swine flu? Hung around the airport for a bit and had a coffee because I like airports (Alfred: Bullshit! He had forgotten to write out the exact address of the hotel and was relying on finding an internet café in the airport to check the email where Charlotte had sent him all the details! Eventually he found a shop that sold maps and was able to figure out where it was from the memory of the Google Map Charlotte had attached! Intrepid explorer ….) Got to the hotel and, en route, had my first experience of Nairobi traffic (and taxi fares) – sweet Lord! The fare was about €20 but that was probably fair enough as it took an hour through insane traffic jams – like Pearse Street on a Friday afternoon. Nice hotel but, as so often happens with VSO, religiously run so no alcohol just when I most needed a beer!
So, interesting thing Number One. I am only booked in for two nights but as today is Tuesday and I am flying out Friday, that means (Alfred: as Herman would say), I have to spend …… three nights in Nairobi. Reception assured me they would either find me a room here or somewhere else for the third night.
Met a guy called Lauren who is working as a conservationist here but whose wife is a doctor (kidney-specialist) in Cameroon. He spent seven years in Cameroon but is now back in Kenya. He was really interested to hear about how things are in Rwanda – he figures they are going to become really important in the East African Community (Alfred: this becomes a bit of a theme later, be warned).
Explored nearby shopping mall, wandered around the supermarket for a bit just for the sheer pleasure of being in a supermarket, bought salt and vinegar-flavoured snacks (!) and some cane spirit (Alfred: health warning – DON’T!). The mall had the kinds of things I had forgotten existed – health food shops, hardware, specialist vegetables, BOOKSHOPS – two of them in one mall! There isn’t a single bookshop in all of Rwanda (Alfred: well, there are three places that CALL themselves bookshops … OK, forget I said anything, point taken). Had somewhat underwhelming dinner in the Gratia/Gracehouse Lodge – it was OK to be fair, actually really good by Rwandan standards (Alfred: he is writing this the FOLLOWING DAY, he has already got used to good food and service!) but the weird bit was the coffee at the end. Kenya produces some of the best coffee in the world – and I got a pot of water and a tin of Nescafé!! Then I retired to watch TV!!! Ah ha! Kenya has just had its first swine flu case – some poor bastard of a British student who spent all year fund-raising and then came out to build houses for orphans and, for his pains, is Kenya’s new Typhoid Mary. That’s what all the fun at the airport is about!
WEDNESDAY
Well, interesting day indeed. Got up late (0700), had breakfast of sausages, beans, tomato and toast with REAL coffee and chatted with my new friend Lauren from Burkina Faso (in English and French). Turns out that is where he is from and he is looking for a job here for his doctor wife so she can come and join him. He was REALLY interested in talking about Rwanda’s new linguistic policy – hope to run into him again!
Then off to shopping mall where I bought a newspaper and discovered that the only place in all of Kenya showing Star Trek is Kisumu, site of the swine flu outbreak and a LONG way from Nairobi! Ah well. Then spent an hour in the bookshop! Oh, the bliss. I swear I just went around and fondled the things. Bought a Stephen King (Dreamcatcher, brilliant) and a Kenyan novel. Chatted to a Kenyan teacher who was hanging around waiting for three colleagues to buy books for the school library (Alfred: more on this in the forthcoming ‘Kenya v. Rwanda’ feature). Hung around hotel a bit and then decided to walk to the hospital for my MRI to kill some time. Called in to the VSO Kenya office en route to alert them to the accommodation problem. They immediately rang the hotel to assure them that whatever the hotel arranged was OK with them. I told the lady at reception I was off to the hospital and she wished me good luck (as did three other staff who called by!).
And off I went. Well. Got to the hospital early (1315 for a 1400 appointment) but figured it always pays to check in early. Too right. Yes, my appointment was on the system but where was my referral documentation or Hospital Appointment form? Apparently someone – whether VSO Rwanda or Kenya – should have given me the documents which would tell the doc what kind of MRI I needed (apparently there are various kinds) (Alfred: Betcha Orla would know!). So, what to do? (Alfred: And, without the documentation, there is no evidence of insurance cover either!) So, did I have my credit card with me? Well, yes but in the hotel because everyone kept telling me stuff gets stolen in Nairobi so I left it behind. In a taxi, back to hotel, grab card, back to hospital, go to Casualty, register, pay 1200 shillings (€14), get triaged, explain I am doing this because I need an MRI, get in queue, eventually (Alfred: and MUCH faster than would be the case in Ireland) get seen by a doctor. Explain story. He writes me out an order for an MRI. Go to cashier and pay $250 for MRI (thank God the credit card worked). Then head to Radiography. It is 1615 and my appointment was for 1400. They tell me they will stay late and take me at 1715! (They usually close up at 1700).
The MRI itself was …. strange. My dear friends Jane and Jane (Keenan and Dawson-Howe) had already scared the crap out of me with their accounts of MRIs (Alfred: Keenan, yes but Dawson-Howe? You sure about that?) In the end, because it was just my knee, they only fed me into the machine up to the chest but even that was enough to get my claustrophobic tendencies going! And the noises? It was like one of Andy Crow’s Kraftwork or Chemical Brothers soundtracks. I swear I could have run an all-night rave on the variations. Anyway, it took 26 minutes and then Nicholas told me the results would be available the following afternoon. Because it was so late, they couldn’t be processed until the following day so around 1700 was the earliest I could get them. He suggested I go to the orthopaedic unit and make an appointment for 1800 or later tomorrow or else just collect the stuff Thursday evening or Friday morning and bring it back to Kigali for someone to look at. I said I would think about it!
Damn! Still no idea what is going on! I got into a taxi and decided to spoil myself. I asked if he knew a restaurant called Carnivore and he did but told me it was a long way away – 1000 shillings worth (€11). I didn’t care. Got there and had a meal. OMG. Meat, meat, meat. Stuff I had forgotten existed. Spicy butternut soup to start. Then – pork sausages, spare ribs, roast chicken breast, roast pork, roast beef, roast chicken wings, crocodile, ostrich meatballs, roast lamb, roast chicken thighs, more roast beef, more roast pork and another genuine pork sausage to finish. (Alfred: pork ribs and chicken wings were nondescript, crocodile not very nice, everything else fabulous). Also one potato, a green salad, some spinach, six sauces (garlic, wargberry (?), barbeque, mint, apple, and chilli), a bottle of house red and coffee. Cost a bloody fortune and I didn’t care. (Alfred: in the interests of accuracy, it was 5,000 shillings or about fifty quid!) Then another 1,200 for the taxi home.
More thoughts on the restaurant anon – it’s midnight and my bed calls. An everlasting ‘Thank You’ (!) to Ciara O’Connor for posting that video on my Facebook page – my revenge will be served cold.
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