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.


Alfred: that's it, I've had as much as I can take. Nag nag nag but still no result, just pathetic excuses about having to 'work' all the time and how the MTN modem now seems to not work more often than it does. I mean, we are now actually getting emails from people complaining about this (sorry Mike, sorry Jennifer, sorry EVERYONE!).

So what has been going on? Well, life HAS been quite hectic, it has to be said. First of all we had Ruairí's first full-scale sector training session for all the directors and bursars of the Ndora sector (fifteen in all). It has only taken him seven months to get around to this so one-and-a-half cheers all round, eh. Topics were Strategic Planning and How to Do it, Classroom Inspection Techniques, General School Administration and a feedback session on his inspections of all the schools. Two days before the session he decided (over his director’s protests) that he was doing the whole thing in French rather than English on the fairly flimsy basis that that was the only way anyone was going to understand anything. In other words, he thought they were more likely to understand him doing a SWOT analysis in French than in English (or analyse AFOM as it is in French).

It actually went OK as one or two of the directors have good enough English to help him out when he got stuck. However, he tried to cram far too much into just one four-hour training session (as they refreshingly bluntly told him on the evaluation forms). At least he got the chargé to join in the training with the idea that he will do more and more of it as time goes by. Also, glancing at the last blog entry, the parents were not invited in the end, thank goodness, as most of them do not speak either French or English.


Other than that, we had the wonderful occasion that was Gitfest 2009. Hayley and Thom decided to make up for the fact that we were all missing out on the music festivals back at home (not that Ruairí has actually ever attended one in his life!) and held our very own one in Gitarama last weekend. Ruairí went as Boy George, wearing the caftan and hat he bought in Nairobi airport and spent DAYS learning off the words to Karma Chameleon as he thought everyone was going to have to perform. Pretty weird lyrics they are too (‘Desert loving in your eyes all the way’ – WTF?). Anyway, everyone came as some sort of music festival-associated character (hen party, Bruce Springsteen, tarot card readers, hippies, peace protesters, whatever – see pictures on Ruairí’s facebook page http://www.facebook.com/notifications.php#/album.php?aid=129926&id=526238416). Anyway it was a great occasion and well done to Hayley, Thom and Charlotte and everyone else involved.

Ruairí was staying with Moira and Kerrie in their new houses in Kavumu and the three of them plus Amalia went for breakfast in the Hotel Splendid in Gitarama. You’d think everyone would be used to the abysmally slow service in Rwanda by now, but this really took the biscuit. I mean, it was only breakfast. Ruairí got really cross with the waitress which is not his usual style (and was a bit inappropriate really as none of the things were really her fault) but the hotel (and remember this is a hotel, not just a little restaurant) had no milk, no butter or Blue Band, no fruit and I suspect no eggs because the two omelettes arrived forty minutes after Kerrie and Ruairí got their toasted sandwiches. The entire thing took one hour and forty five minutes for tea and coffee, two toasted sandwiches and two omelettes, some bread and chopped fruit. The hotel looked really nice and the rooms are very reasonable but ….

Actually, another reason for his recent failure to update is that he is writing a column for the Irish language magazine COMHAR – the first should be appearing any day now in the August edition and he just fired off the second one. I suspect that is where his creative instincts have been leading him – probably means I am going to have to take over the blog entirely for the foreseeable future. I’m not really sure why this is so as he is just recycling in Irish all the stuff he wrote here in the first place, with maybe a little more political stuff (figuring it’s safer to write that stuff in Irish!). Anyway, if you are interested, go out and start buying copies of COMHAR or better still take out a subscription so all the money actually goes to the magazine!

Discretion prevents me from commenting in too much detail on Ruairí’s entry into the world of Rwandan dating and night clubs: suffice to say that there is actually something quite funny about watching someone climbing out of a car wreck only to leap into another speeding obviously-unsuitable vehicle. Actually, maybe watching the car wreck in progress is even funnier. Not sure – for me, this is definitely going to remain a spectator sport but I’m not sure I am going to be able to convince Ruairí of that. I can’t even convince him that dating your ex-girlfriend’s best friend immediately after her is a questionable tactic at best. It is also interesting (to say the least) watching a middle-aged previously married white guy who has absolutely no intention of getting married again interacting with these Rwandan women whose ONLY aim is to get married. At least he has finally discovered the delights of KBC, Kigali’s premier (and possibly only) night-club. I wonder whether the impending approach of his fiftieth birthday is anything to do with it all ……

And that’s about it for now. Looking back on all that I can maybe see a bit better why there has been a hiatus but I suspect it will be me for the time being anyway. No photos this time as the Internet café is running on Internet Explorer minus three and can cope with very little. I am having to type all this in Word and then cut and paste or else there would be no fadas on Ruairí’s name (and we all know how ratty he gets about that even though he pretends he doesn’t care when people misspell his name). His mother arrives this evening and they head off to visit the parts of Rwanda Ruairí has not yet explored – which is about 99% of it; real stick-in-the-mud here, folks. Will keep you posted!!

Oh, me? What do you think – still sitting on the chair in the bedroom watching the bats, geckoes and other assorted wildlife gamboling around while his nibs is away. And now we have cicadas in the attic – merciful Lord, the noise they make, like a set of uilleann pipes gone horribly wrong.

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Keats and Chapman found themselves at a loose end one summer and, rather than their customary focus on literature and the likes, decided to adopt new hobbies to pass the time. Chapman decided to go in for bird breeding but found that the market was already saturated with parrots, mynah birds, budgies, canaries and suchlike. He decided therefore to focus on trying to convince people to take more ordinary birds as pets, such as sparrows, blackbirds and especially crows. However, the results of his breeding programme were weak and feeble specimens and he became more and more frustrated.

One afternoon Keats called around to try and cheer his friend up. “So, Chapman”, he said, “bred any good rooks recently?”

(with apologies to the BC Radio 4 News Quiz where I heard the punchline)