I get quite a few mails asking for what my daily routine is like.
Well it goes much like this, most days
At 05H00 I slam my hand down onto the alarm clock and buy another ten minutes of sleep! After a persistent polyphonic nag I get up and pull on the running gear – or though, to look at the weight I have picked up, I wonder if this helps.
A quick check that I have all the gear strapped to me that makes me the power athlete I am! Heart rate monitor that frequently tells me I should be dead, Cell phone, to clock the time and then of course the tool that has changed forever the life of a runner, the iPod (Mine is the tiny shuffle- sort of how I run!)
On the shuffle I listen to music ranging from Bob Marley – No woman no cry, to Barry White and at the turn, I tend to have Shozaloza urging me on for the homeward bound leg.
Claude is instantly at the door to escort me to the gate, where he looks at his mad “Boss”. As he endearingly has termed me, skip over mud puddles.
When I get back, it’s straight to the coffee machine and a good cup of really excellent Rwandan coffee. Each morning making a mental note to get this brand into the flasks of Mugg & Bean.
I laze around for around 30 minutes and when I have the connection ,(I use EVDO) Evolution Data Only as my wireless connection – Kigali, Rwanda is right up there when it comes to hi-tech! I stream SA's Highveld radio for my morning fix on the SA news and humour.
I also quickly scan mail that I have set up, that searches topics of interest and mails that to my inbox twice a day. For me – Formula1, Latest SA news and as it’s topical to this project, world news on the telecoms industry.
Then a rather elaborate process needs to take place. Claude and I have it down to a telepathic communication skill now.
I walk to my bathroom en-suite where my towel is, BUT the shower I use is down the stairs, off the lounge in a small side bedroom.
At this moment Claude who must have the most acute hearing or a spy camera – dashes around from the front of the house, slides around the corner narrowly missing the tomato and carrot crop planted on my arrival, and screeches, in his bright yellow sandals, to a halt at the switch of the pump that carries the water from the two 1500ltr storage tanks, to the luxury of my hot and relaxing morning shower. Only hot because Claude has somewhere in the early hours got up to ensure that the geyser is plugged in.
Power is such a premium here that Geysers and lights are never left burning. I in fac,t have even had the “Power saver” globes that Ed – our CEO and Uber Overlord had kindly carried up from SA put in everywhere in the house (These are available here just a little on the pricey side thought around R20)
My shower, and shave, are done dodging mosquitoes as for all the routine I have imposed on myself, I refuse to add to the global warming by spraying insecticide – risking instead the 10% chance of getting Malaria - Besides far more adventurous to return and be able to say – I spent a quarter of a year in deep “AahFrica” and survived a malaria attack!
Then I head back up the stairs, and on route to the kitchen stands the cook, as ever with an egg, (Iggy) as he calls it, in one hand and a knife whose size, that a few years ago would have me trembling in fear - as it is more machete like than cooking knife to crack the shell.
I have, for just on 90 days, tried in vain to demonstrate that I prefer paw-paw and a little cereal but Jean is determined to break my will and make an omelet! Every day we battle it out, up to now I still am in the lead, but I have no doubt soon I will need to concede a round.If only to see his face light up.
When I emerge from the bedroom – a blurred flurry dashes past me as Fedirinah heads for the wash basket, and even before I can make it to the kitchen (5 paces) she already has the clothes through the first soak and is happily humming as she sloshes them in the soapy water.
I have the paw paw and cereal and put out what will be this nights menu, Inyama (Meat), although not every night, and either potatoe for fries or mash, some veg and a tin of tomato beans – I used to leave it for the cook but I soon learnt that this was not the wisest idea.
A gentle hoot will signal the driver has arrived and pop star like or even presidential, I make my way to the car as the briefcase is already there. Now that Claude has seen I take a daily protein bar to work, that too will be in the side pouch of the case.
A Tupperware that I will have filled the night before with some salad or leftover dinner, is whisked out the back way and arrives at the car in synch with the briefcase almost in military precision. A few moments later I walk down the stairs and into the waiting car whose door is held open and gently closed as I settle in – Mwaramutse is the greeting I give to the driver Frank, who invariably will ask me the latest football scores – Now added to my Google search to satisfy my new CNN role of sports reporter.
On mornings that Frank cannot collect me, I am collected by David who no matter what I say answers Oui! He speaks no English, and the drive to work is almost comical - He has no English, I no French. So we listen to the local radio news in Kinyarwanda – this of course he understands, and I am proud to report I can even follow if there are certain words that help me string the bulletin a along.
The road to work is interesting and always something to see. A Mzungu (White person) yesterday – a lady dressed as if she was on the way to the ballet in NY with flowing hair, sat ever so delicately on the back of a scooter as it chugged up hill.
Once at the office it’s not unlike any other. Same greeting, same issues – sales numbers, latest technical issues and of course reading some email and meetings around various pressing issues.
Some days I stroll to a bakery cum coffee shop around the corner. I chuckle as I pass a security guard who sits sentry over an empty house, with overgrown lawn that I swear, since I have arrived, I have never seen a soul - but guarded this house is! And by a 12bore shotgun!
The bakery makes the most incredible “quarter pound” butter croissant, liberally doused with chocolate. They alos produce all sorts of other really yummy delights.
Perhaps part of the reason of that earlier weight problem that running is not solving.
On other days I stroll with some of the guys from the office to a nearby “Local” restaurant. Karibu (Swahili for welcome) I Think! Here for 1700Frw (R20) you can get a plate of food taken from around 10 – 15 different platters. The idea is to see how much you can get onto the plate.
On these days eating at night is not necessary!
I try to take a small helping, but this is impossible for each platter has something I want on my plate. Rice in a tomato type colour, or some fries and even a pasta dish – this is Carbo heaven! There is always a meat dish, and never is there not a dish from the Congo, of what is most closely associated to spinach, but is finely chopped and has a bitter after taste. It is delicious. Then there are salads ALL with onion and more diluted mayonnaise that can be possibly healthy for any artery.
The quietest time at the office, and a time I enjoy most is from 17H00 – 19H00 the office is quite and everyone – yes we are still happily working away – None of this 5pm and hit the road, that we are used to in SA. Everyone is wrapping up.
I particularly enjoy it because I get to catch the SA business news on Moneyweb.
At 19H00 Frank will arrive and we head home where Claude is waiting to open the door and starts the routine of closing curtains and putting on the odd light, or may even still be finishing off the ironing – They have worked out his ironing please me, and so he has pulled the short straw.
I will warm up the food and put out a plate each for Claude and I. He then heads off to his lonely meal, and I to mine – Mine invariably over a magazine that I have sourced in the town on that day.
Shortly after arrival a young street newspaper seller collared me. I bought from him the Time magazine – Ever enterprising he asked where I worked and now each week he presents himself to the security guard, who brings up the magazine to my office – now stretched to the Economist, Newsweek, Time and most recently he even found the latest copy of Fortune! All far more difficult to do now, as the direct flight from Europe is suspended.
I can never refuse him, and if I am short of cash in the wallet – Ntakibazo. (No Problem) and off he goes until a few days later when he will pop back with the next edition and I will square him up for both.
Back at the house. Some nights we watch the football (In French!) Although the local TV does sometimes have it with English commentary – currently we are watching the championships league.
My best is, as a ball hits the back of the net (As in Arsenal’s case last night) The whole village below can be heard erupting over the sound of our TV as many Kigalians will have found their way to friend with TV or to a tavern in the area.
Claude will always discreetly disappear at some point (On TV nights while I am watching, or on the nights I am at the keyboard of the laptop, when I leave the room) and, as he cares little for the ozone, will spray the can of baygon in the room to ensure I have a trouble free sleep.
And that is a day in the life of a Mzungu in Kigali
Michael Mocke
Rwanda, Kigali
20 April 2006
The Rwandans who read this I know will forgive my spelling and indeed, pop in to chit chat and correct me.
