This was a great evening – 60 or so friends from all over Rwanda, an excellent meal. Afterwards we went down the road to a bar whose name I still cannot remember and then I got a moto home to the Beau Sejour in Kisimenti. The moto driver was fine until we started catching up on an army pickup with eight soldiers in the back. My moto driver immediately applied the brakes and dawdled about twenty metres behind it in a manner absolutely calculated to attract attention. After a while the soldiers began nudging each other and staring at us. Then, when we came to the speed bumps outside the school in Kimihurura, the pickup slowed right down and my moto immediately accelerated and took the bumps rather like an Olympic ski-jumper and then roared off ahead of the pickup. We then covered the remaining few kilometres in about three minutes flat. An astoundingly perfect example of how to attract attention to yourself.
Presents
This is always a worry – Rwandans rarely if ever fly so getting across the idea of a limited luggage allowance is difficult. Added to this is the fact that Rwandans are extremely generous with the idea of giving farewell presents and the fact that most traditional presents are ... well, large. I accumulated the following: a large gorilla statue, a framed drum, a banana-leaf football, a giant wooden map of Rwanda, a small wooden map of Rwanda, a statue of two entwined giraffes, a large woven basket (a present for another volunteer back in England), a set of peace baskets (like Russian dolls, one within the other), a hollow wooden fish, packs of coffee, earrings, a necklace, three shirts, a dress and skirt for my mother ... em, there was probably more. Add the clothes I had made and the four imigongo paintings I ordered ... all I can say is thank God for DHL. Expensive but worth it!
ImigongoFrench World Cup team
Sitting in Gasaza’s bar in Gisagara on my last night, there was a special item on TV about the French team’s latest fiasco. One of my Rwandan friends leaned over and said: ‘No offence, Ruairí, but it was probably a lot more fun for the rest of the world having France rather than Ireland in the World Cup!’ It was hard to disagree.
Rwandan videos
As Alfred previously noted, I have accumulated a great collection of Rwandan and East African videos, some of which I feel encapsulate very important aspects of Rwandan culture. For those of you living in broadband land, I will upload a few on YouTube in the near future. My personal favourite is one called ‘Aka 500’. The plot runs as follows: man has wife, pays her an allowance of RWF5000 a day (presumably for all wifely functions, including sex), comes home early one day and finds her in bed with another guy, turns out he is paying her only RWF500 for ... well, presumably sex. Husband is very angry and confronts other guy, he blames the woman, husband complains bitterly .... and then says he is cutting her allowance to RWF500 a day, the same as the other guy paid her. And that’s it. Here is the link – it’s actually a well-sung song, rap-style but sharp and crisp http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=whGfR8OwxA0
And here is another one that was already on YouTube when I was trying to upload it. Akasimu with Dr Fred Sebbaale is in Luganda and is about a row between a husband and wife. Actually, it is pretty self-explanatory - the guy trying at various stages to keep them apart is the husband's father.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fAha3XvLSbI
World Cup
You know, I kinda figured everyone here would be supporting the African teams no matter what but, no. Watching Brazil v. Côte d’Ivoire one night I was really surprised that most people were supporting Brazil.
Past pupils
As I spent my last few days in Rwanda, I remembered all those people who supported me through their emails, Facebook messages, contributions towards my various projects and so on. It was particularly uplifting to be contacted by so many of my former pupils: Fiona Spargo in Australia whose accounts of her fire fighting exploits during the Australian bush fires last year was riveting, and scary; Orla Keane/Goggin who kept me in touch with what was happening at home; Susan Connolly who, when things were not going too well for me, showed me how you cope with adversity in a positive manner; Anne-Marie Florence for her discussion on ... well, she knows; Beth, Justine and Ríona for their amazing fundraising; Antonia Hart for showing that it doesn’t matter how long ago you taught someone, the connection is still always there; Anne-Marie O’Rourke for all the stuff she sent me, especially the hat (which I still have despite my best efforts to lose it); Jane for her continued interest and support; Helen Regan for being number one supporter of my blog; Jane Moore for – among other things – all the cute puppy pictures; Jo Peare whose amazing work in the South African refugee camps made me so proud of her; Lydia Behan whose suggestion of using www.wordreference.com to help me with my French translations was possibly the single most useful piece of information anyone gave me in the last 22 months; both the Pfeiffers for reasons too numerous to mention; Ruth O’Mahony Brady whose recording of ‘The Man With the Child in His Eyes’ I played innumerable times in Rwanda as I went to sleep; and many, many more. Thanks to you all and do keep in touch.
Airport
Got to the airport at 1600 Saturday so I could see the football. Checked in at 1700. No one was there. Perfect – just as I planned.
Oh, and the best single piece of marketing I have seen in Rwanda. Patrick, who used to be with the Ivuka Gallery, has set up a stall in the duty-free area, selling his small pictures. A perfect size to fit into carry-on luggage, $40 each, a perfect present to bring home. He sold three of them just while I was watching. Hope the airport isn’t taking too much of a commission.
Oh, and possibly the worst piece of planning ever in a duty free. Because plastic bags are banned in Rwanda, you get your duty free in a paper bag. This means that if you are changing flights later, your duty-free will be confiscated because it isn’t in a sealed plastic bag!
Shamrock Rovers in Kigali
One of the items of clothing I brought with me was my Shamrock Rovers shirt which I wore around Kigali various times. On my way to the airport my taxi driver asked me: ‘Do you still have that green and white hooped shirt I saw on you last year?’ (I use the same taxi driver in Kigali all the time).
‘Do you mean the Shamrock Rovers shirt?’.
‘Yes, Shamrock Rovers’.
‘Yes, it’s in my suitcase’.
‘Can I have it? You said you would give it to me when you were going home.’
‘What?’ Then I remembered – yes, I had said that.
‘Em, yeah. Sure – wait until we get to the airport and I’ll get it out.’
‘What? Of course not, don’t be stupid. The colours are the same as the team I support in Kigali. I’ve never even heard of Shamrock Rovers!’
Jean-Pierre
JP: I hear you are returning to Holland?
Me: Em, yes – Ireland, I am returning to Ireland.
JP: Ah yes, England. I need something.
Me: (sigh) What?
JP: I need a woman. I need you to send me a woman from England who will love me. If she is a friend of
yours that would be best, because I trust your judgement.
Me: Ah, a woman. Are you not married?
JP: No, and I don’t want to marry a Rwandan woman. I want a muzungu woman.
Me: Really? Why don’t you want to marry a Rwandan woman? Rwandan women are really beautiful.
JP: Yes, they are much more beautiful than muzungu women but all they are interested in is money. As long as you are bringing them money, they love you. If the money stops, then they leave you and start loving someone with more money. But muzungu girls love you for what you are, for the person you are. That’s what I want.
Me: OK, but how can I tell a muzungu girl back in IRELAND about you and expect her to come out here and marry you?
JP: I know things are bad in England at the moment. Surely they would like to marry a good-looking Rwandan man with a steady job who will treat them right?
Me: I’m not so sure.
Me: Of course you are, that’s not what I meant. I mean, how can I convince someone back in .... England, that she should come out here to Rwanda and marry someone she has never met? And how can I be sure that you will like her?
JP: I trust you. I know that if you tell a woman back in England about me she will trust you and come out here to me. And I trust you to pick a good woman for me.
Me: OK. Em, have you any ... requirements? Age, shape, religion?
JP: No. As long as she is beautiful and believes in God, that’s fine.
Me: OK, I’ll see what I can do.
JP: I told my family I will be getting married this year, so email me soon – and send me a picture please!
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