Where to begin? Well no place like the beginning! The first surprise I had was as I entered the airplane that would carry me to Rwanda was that there were far more white faces than any other? The flight, even more surprisingly was headed first to Kigali and then onto Entebbe (Uganda).
Arriving at the Kigali airport Rwanda was the first realization that in Africa every thing has its own law. As we were approaching the runway and with possibly less than a few meters before we were to place our wheels on the tarmac, there was a sudden roar of engines, the flight lurched forward and off we went again – rather nerve racking!
After about 10 minutes and many puzzled looks on passengers’ faces the captain came over the PA system and advised that on the approach, the tower had given a tail wind speed significantly different to that of the aircraft onboard computer guidance systems. The aircraft by the way was the latest airbus, almost brand new and obviously on this route due to the incredible demand of seats to this region. An example of the incredible demand that airlines are facing for flights out of SA and up north are that flights to Nigeria (I am told) are full until August!
The sudden take of proved to be a blessing for a fist time visitor like myse
lf, for as we headed out again so the captain had to do a series of maneuvers that kept the plane constantly banking either left or right, and so the aerial view I was treated to gave me an incredible first time birds eye view of Kigali – Awesome.
I guess the awesome part is hard to explain, not awesome as in spectacular, or as in impressive – just awesome. I have flown into Kenya, Maputo and have spent time in Swaziland as well as Lesotho and none of these left me with the sense of awe I felt at the sight of Kigali below. Then I realized why! Kigali was the theatre of such a terrible massacre 10 years ago and that any images travelers have of Rwanda and the capital are of this tragedy. Yet when you arrive you suddenly feel such a great energy in the fibre of your whole being that you almost feel that you are part of a collective movement that is WILLING this place to overcome and prosper – and it is!
In fact, one comment I want to make right up front is that I think it is time that all who write, talk, or share their experience on Rwanda now finally stop using 90% of their time explaining the history of violence and concentrate on the good the now the happening! I intend to do just that! (Other than by way of explanation or reference to a particular comment or point that I may make)
I am lucky that I am traveling with a native of Rwanda – although DRC born he is Rwandan but for the displacement of his family years back.
He quickly guides me into the customs hall, which is a relief from the baking sun, that drives down almost boiling the blood as the doors to the plane open – It’s HOT and HUMID and the comfort of SAA aircon is very soon gone.
In the hall we fill in our arrival cards and I look tentatively around for the expected “Image” of Africa, uniform clad soldiers wielding an AK, there are none, not a single one in sight, in fact, as the last week goes by I can count on one hand (Possibly if truthful I might need two fingers of the second hand) the police or military presence – its just not here its very obviously out there but its not tough guy in your face. Traffic police well now that’s a whole new discussion – it seems every street corner is given its allocation of two (Always two) traffic police in a “Shouting Green” jacket – shouting green is how one of my colleagues, who I am to meet later, describes them. The best way to describe it here is the luminescence lime green often worn by emergency personnel.
These traffic police are deeply respected. NO ONE leaves a stationery position without insisting their passenger is buckled up and, as in SA the very sight of these guys sees a cell phone drop surreptitiously form view. They are not, I hasten to add, aggressive and in fact always seem courteous and respectful to their fellow country men. As a “Muzunga” (White man) I often am left feeling as if they could not care a less that I am in the car as we pass by – that’s one immediate feeling I get here there is no feeling of needing to be condescending nor for that matter do you ever feel condescended to. You’re here and just get on with it mate seems to be the attitude.
I digress. Let’s return to the airport. We quickly are let through passport control each kiosk is manned and the reception is courteous, passports are stamped and I am able to add another exotic name to my growing collection.
Down a flight of stairs to two baggage travelators, and like ANY airport – it has even happened to me at Heathrow London. The allocated conveyer belt does not star t but rather the one next to it and out comes the baggage.
We are met by one of our colleagues and taken first via the house that I am due to be staying in. My first impression will either be one of horror or of relief – it turns out to be of relief. The house is perfect and adequate.
As is expected in Africa, the surrounds might be alarming as there is shack dwellings on the doorstep and yet the neigbour behind is a modern building at least 6 stories high, while the home immediately in front of the house is a very simple structure (Almost single garage like) and double up as a convenience store for the area – like a “Spaza”
The house inside is perhaps a little erratically furnished, but it has all the comforts needed and we have our own generator to supply power when the electricity supply is cut, as can happen I have found intermittently during the day and evenings. But never any less inconvenient that in Johannesburg lately.
The bags are dropped, and we are off to the office – but before I drive you there I must note one interesting ritual, when arriving home and you are of certain standing, you hoot and your doorman/security opens up a large front gate – every house of standing has one (Gate and “Batman”), its almost a status thing a bit like our electric gates I suppose.
I soon learn he is always present, be it midnight or 5am a gentle hoot and the gates will fly open!
I am taken to the offices. While we drive I am able to take in the sights of the area – It’s not really easy to explain, but something’s are immediately evident, as a very organized discipline exists and certain courtesy’s apply in traffic and while I suppose its erratic, it’s organized and “Fair”. Besides it’s far less aggressive than going face to face with a JHB minibus taxi. European visitors might be horrified but it does not startle me.
I suppose I also expected hordes of begging and bustling, but its not here - yes you do, as you move around town, encounter the odd beggar or street child trying to tap your conscience but not at any large scale.
Also encouraging, on the way from the airport is that I notice an avenue (“Rue”) planted with palm trees every few meters and remember thinking – “Oh yes, as always a row of trees to wow the tourist and the rest is bound to be dry drab and dusty” NOT! I am soon to learn that many roads are not only planted with trees, but also have lawn paving. On one occasion I am firmly but politely reminded that I dare not walk on the grass as it’s an offence. I am encouraged to see that this law is rigidly up held by all. By the way another thing that is absolute remarkable is that there is little or almost no litter!
The office colleagues greet me warmly - naturally I suspect some edginess – the rest of the day is spent setting up email, the IT team are incredibly skilled and it’s the Presidents goal to make the country a science and technical miracle. In no time I am hooked up to the office server and the outside world is connected to me yet again.
We are tired from our flight and we get driven home where we decide to go to a restaurant for the evenings meal so the customary hoot and the gate is opened and Claude (The name of our security man) runs ahead opening house doors and switching on lights. I decide on a quick shower to freshen up and the driver has stayed on to take us to the restaurant. It turns out to be less than 500 meters from the home and I enjoy the first of many Mutsig’s the local beer brewed in a province called Gisenyi – where I go later in the week.
We end up at a very pleasant restaurant called Sol & Lunar and it’s as Italian as any I’ve eaten at. Pizzas are good and surprisingly cheap.
By now I have completely taken to my new surrounds and once home it’s no time at all before I settle into sleep knowin
g that this is exactly where I am meant to be at this moment in my life.
Waking is a little more of a shock as soon I realize I am away from my comforts – a kettle, hot water on tap etc.
It’s all here; I just have to learn how to use it all. Finally I locate the kettle – everything is packed away after use – a habit the house staff seem to have adopted -and I soon learn that everything will constantly be packed away as I use it.
The house lady, when she arrives later has a distant look of remorse that I dared make myself a cup of coffee (After finally and thankfully locating the Nescafe left by the team the last time they were here 2 weeks prior – The point I am making is that the sugar and coffee and biscuits and tea and…. You get the picture! Are all still here.
It off to the office again, as I walk to the door the pitter patter of feet trails me and every item from yesterday is almost in the wash before our driver has reversed us out of the gate.
Here I do find a general lack of disorganization and not long before I realize it’s not that the office is unruly, but just perhaps un-coordinated!
For me - to the point of mild frustration
Friday comes and we are taken to a province/village called Gitarama about 1 hours drive out of Kigali. The objective is to see our dealer presence. We are lucky! The car we go in is air-conditioned and we are soon driving through what is Rwanda – a series of rolling and undulating hill and mountains. All along the way people are walking along the road and the roads are perfect, if narrow in some places. Hillsides are one mass of agriculture as the slopes bar none are each cultivated in almost patchwork like quilts of crop. Gitarama is little more than a street rather densely populated and naturally with arteries leading of to smaller areas of shops and kiosks.
It seems everyone has a store and often 3 stores alongside will each offer the same product or service. We meet our dealers and see the progress of the rollout of the painting and branding underway and as the night falls we head back to Kigali – again that courtesy of the road, oncoming cars will turn on indicators to allow you to almost mark your sight, so that as you drive by you are certain you are on the right side, and that their headlights will not have blinded you.
On the way I had seen fruit on the side of the road and ask our colleague Bonny to stop on the return. I also notice when going there that every street side market sells Amarula? I keep my comments to myself and as we head home and find a street seller we soon find out that its local honey. Again, as in so much else and as expected in Africa there’s a trade in everything, so the amarula bottles are taken up this road by sellers who get them in town and sell the empties to the honey tradesmen to bottle.
Home and to bed after a tiring day, not from exhaustion, but from realizing that everything that hits my senses is new and must be processed before understood.
The day is not to end however and we go via the Intercontinental that is so new and modern I swear I am in Sandton. A few beers and we are persuaded to go to another venue “Republica” where soon we are washing the tiredness down with beer and yet more beer – I choose from the menu a goats meat dish, it is tender and delicious and the night is a disaster, as we only get to bed at 5am – however thanks to the altitude I am surprisingly sober or at least I think so.
Saturday I go to gym and then try my luck alone at the local market where I buy provisions such as veg and fruit for the house and surprise myself as I haggle and negotiate with the stall holders.
Sunday is yet another trip away from the house this time we are headed to Gisenyi, 3 hours away and we will spend the night. I have no idea what to expect and as we drive up again I see the same patchwork farming along the road and the road takes us right past Ruhengeri the village made famous 20 odd years (To the day) by the work done by Dian fossey. We have no time to stop and besides to get close top the families of Gorillas a permit is needed and must be booked in advance – a small matter of about a two hour walk up the mountain also means that this experience will have to wait.
Gisenyi! No forewarning would have ever prepared me for what I see- the village is 5ks away from the havoc of the DRC and all I can say that except for the rural ness of an African village that I suppose I do expect a view comes into sight that leaves me breathless- Gisenyi is on the shores of Lake Kivu a volcanic lake some 200 meters long and 40 odd wide. It’s like looking down at Clifton or perhaps something on the coast of Natal but because it’s so unexpected its impact is a 1000 times more incredible.
It helps that it’s been raining and the air of mystery and mist surround the view. Hillsides appear and disappear as the mist swirls around the village – I am taken to where I will spend the night and it’s all the none other than a southern sun, recently (2 years) rebuilt and it’s immaculate and the pool is meters from the shore of the lake.
We are spoilt. We are wined and dined at the home of a resident whose house, furn
ishings and garden would shame any house in Clifton, sadly the pic I have, Right, is limited but you get an idea on the view – The owners (Whose wife I decide to rename and title the “Baroness of Gisenyi”) are more “real” than any Clifton socialite could ever be, we sit ever so colonial on the patio and sip G&T and later are called to the table for a meal that sees me having 3rd’s (Its appropriate to note the hosts are native Rwandans, having been exiled to Kinshasa years ago and then having their considerable house – I see picture A Palace! Looted and then leaving to live in Goma where a Volcano erupts demolishing the entire village and their house in the process)
Please if you do nothing else this year try make this place a must – its spectacular and I imagine that within a few years this peace and beauty will be shattered! Not by war but by masses of tourists who will flock to what is a cheap and spectacular venue.
And so that is where we are at – I have retu
rned to Kigali and today had the luxury of spending the day at the house unpacking contents from the recently delivered container.
And finally to record my thought and observations of what is going to be one of my life’s highlights so far. Even more so than London, London is always there - has been always there but Rwanda is fresh, happening and new and lets be honest could in a flash again be a whole new story to tell.
I get the distinct feeling that as I go to the forests visit the Gorillas and head up North Eats to the main national park I will carry on with my lessons and enjoyment but for now I can only say pack you bags and come – this country and its people are doing incredible things and they need your support.
You may read this and say “Where are the horror stories?” There naturally are difficulties – try buying a screwdriver from a native Rwandian who only speaks Kinyarwanda! Or getting the staff at the house to NOT make yet another omlette or even having a shirt ironed with the correct seams! No that is not possible LOL but nothing that makes it worth complaining about.
Take care all and luv ya all madly
MJM
16 Feb 2006
Rwanda
