“I feel like a spoiled princess”

This “weekend” I traveled to see several friends and their different sites. The common thread between all of our housing is that there is no commonality. Everyone has completely different situations regarding, proximity to town, toilets, water, nuns etc etc. Regardless, everyone seems to be handling their respective situations with grace and goodwill. But, after seeing the different sites, I feel like such a spoiled princess! I cannot believe I complained about the 8th biggest town 2 hours from Kigali! I also did not realize how unused to Muzungu other towns are. In my town, I get stares and shouts but in others-full on crowds gather to gawk and stare. Now that I know how many people do not have running water or proper toilets, I am praying praying praying my  next house does. I may be spoiled, but I am used to it now!

Friday: Murder She Wrote

 

Jo at her vintage typewriter

Friday, John and I met in Kigali to go to see Jo in Shirongi. Shirongi is only 30-45 minutes from Kigali and we took a minbus. Because we had no idea where to get off, we simply said Shirongi as much as possible in hopes that someone would take pity on us when we reached the correct stop. Calling Shirongi a town is generous. There is about one block with a few random stores and one alimentation that sells stale donuts.

Jo lives on the property of school run by nuns. Jo lives in a  charming little house with a yard that houses 2 completely useless guard dogs. The dogs will only bark at each other, and treat all humans as lovely friends. She does not have running water, but she does have Sister Act to feed her and generally look after her.  Access to other food is one of her main problems, she must go in to Kigali to buy anything besides bananas.

After a delicious dinner of stale doughnuts, milky tea and hard boiled eggs-complements of La Bonne Address  alimentation, we settled in for a full disc of Flight of the Concords. It was business time.

Saturday: Rapunzel

Meghan on top of her mountain

Saturday morning, the three J’s set off to Muzanze to see Kim, Jenn, Emma and Meghan. Everyone except Meghan lives walking distance to the city of Muzanze. Meghan lives a 30 min moto ride up a mountain. We tried ad tried to get a bus, but none of the buses would stop for us. So, as a last resort, we climbed in the back of a blue pick up truck and arranged to be dropped in Muzanze. The ride was amazing! Green hills as far as the eye can see, as well as two waterfalls. We arrived safely and met up with the “Muzanze Girls” for some shopping at the market.

John, Jo and I all stayed with Meghan. Getting up to her house is considerable job. The moto ride alone costs 1500RWF (my bus from Nyanza to Kigali is 1400). Then, you actually have to travel straight up a mountain. The views are breathtaking and the ride is actually pretty fun. But, while Meghan has a beautiful view and a recently re-done school, once she is on the mountain, there is no access to food at all. She has to buy everything and then take it up on a moto. She has no running water and pit latrines but she does have a friendly peace crops volunteer named Katie next door. Did I mention she can see volcanoes from her front door?

Traveling to Muzanze

 

Jo and Jane being super mature at a buffet

Sunday: Harold and Kumar Go To Matimba

Susan in Matimba, Rwanda with views of Tanzi and Uganda

Sunday morning, after much discussion, I spilt from John and Jo and decided to head further north to Matimba to see Susan.  Problem is that you have to take a 2 hour bus ride back to Kigali and then another 3 hour bus ride back up to Matimba. I was feeling pretty calm about the trip length when our bus tire blew. So, everyone got out of the bus and watched from the side of the road as the driver changed the tire. After 30 minutes we were on our way again. By the time I reached Matimba it was past 6 o’clock. Harold and Kumar, I mean  Hewsan and Mitesh, were already there and the four of us settled down for dinner. We ordered at one place, but they didn’t have anymore food. They were also shocked to see women drinking in public and brought us our check without asking (trust me, this has never happened in Rwanda before).  we picked up some bananas and chapati and found another bar. Shortly, we were joined by a lovely, well spoken young man who wanted to speak English with us.  He told us that he wanted to be a doctor, and then Mitesh and Hewsan spent half and hour telling him how hard it was and how old he would be when it was done.  But, apparently the boy held no ill will towards them for their downer career advice but turned to me and said “I don’t like your smile.”  This of course made me want to smile. Often, I laugh, smile and giggle from nervousness or when placed in uncomfortable situations. So I bit my lip and stared and him. “It is plastic” he said. He went for a bit longer before I started nudging everyone and getting up to say goodbye. Me and my plastic smile made it back to Susan’s with my friends. After a brief and very mature marker fight, we went to sleep.

Monday, Tuesday: KatrInga Inn

Princess Suite at KatrInga Inn

I was supposed to head home on Monday but was seduced by the hospitality of the KatrInga Inn. Katrina and Inga are roommates who live 15 minutes outside of Kigali. They have a sizable house and take their role as hostess very seriously, even going as far as to purchase an extra mosquito net drape over the couches/guest beds. We met up with Zach and Evan and went to Chez KatrInga.  After a quick detour to Quiz Night at Sol e Luna restaurant, we went back to their house and drank cheap wine and listened to my Angry Rap mix.

Tuesday morning, Susan woke up in terrific pain so we took a short trip to King Fasiel hospital. It turned out that she was dehydrated and after a quick fix and some tests, we were on our way. We took it easy Tuesday night and watched “Bringing Up Baby”

King Fasiel Hospital has priorities

Dinner with our gracious hosts

Wednesday: Home Sweet Home

Wednesday was for shopping and then the bus home. I was greeted by huge hugs from my gang and a little acapella singing of Fire Burning on the Dance Floor.