Watching the world go by...

This is what a very relaxed Debs looks like! This was taken on the Sunday afternoon of my trip when I was staying at the beautiful Paradis Malahide at Rubona just 5km away from the border lakeside town of Gisenyi.

The day before I’d taken a bus to Gisenyi at 4.30pm. I’d hoped to leave earlier in the day but missed the boat with tickets. The bus company’s office was rather chaotic, but one of the mechanics was a decent spud and got me sorted onto the right bus. Watching him as I waited for the bus he was obviously the joker of the outfit, winding his workmates up and full of banter, but at the same time getting the job done. It was nice to see a new(er) set of tyres going on to the bus I ended up travelling on!

The bus-ride was about 3 hours and a bit from Kigali to Gisenyi. The driver was a bit of a maniac, but then I think most drivers in Rwanda are maniacs. The white lines in the middle of the road are only really for decoration which is a bit hair-raising when you’re flying round a hairpin bend on the wrong side of the road and another vehicle is coming the other way. It was humbling watching people pushing bicycles carrying large water containers up the steep hills and I also spotted a cyclist hanging on to the back of a Primus lorry (Primus is the local brew, nothing to do with camping stoves) to hitch a ride up a steep stretch. There were a few ‘holy scamoly’ moments – one in particular when we nearly ran over a blind man who stepped onto the road – but other than that it was a great opportunity to soak up the phenomenal scenery as we listened to the driver’s reggae music CD. I’d read of Rwanda being described as ‘Land of a Thousand Hills’ and it’s very apt, except there must be thousands upon thousands of hills and mountains. The route took us within view of Volcanoes National Park where there are 5 volcanoes in the Virunga Mountain range and I managed to spot 3 of them, their summits shrouded in some cloud, even though the sun had just about set. These mountains are home to the mountain gorilla and the area is famous for the pioneering research of Dian Fossey.

We made it to Gisenyi around 7.30pm when it was pitch dark and I got a taxi to the hotel. I was taken outside to my room – a rustic chalet from where I could hear the water lapping at the shore as well as the crickets. I was slightly freaked out by the presence of some geckos and one rather large spider in the room, but I guess there are unexpected advantages to sleeping under a mosquito net. Once I got myself organised I got some eats in the hotel restaurant and chilled out by the open fire.

This little guy dropped in to see me, I have to confess he made me jump when he poked his head out of my bag!

Imagine my jaw-dropping delight when I woke up the next morning and looked out to see this view…

Absolutely stunning. I ate breakfast al fresco right by the water and listened to the sounds of fishermen singing as they brought in their catch. As it was a Sunday I could also hear singing from a local church drift across the lake. Whether they had one very long service or several back-to-back I couldn’t quite figure out but the joyful singing seemed to keep going from early in the morning right into the afternoon.

After breakfast I decided to head into Gisenyi to reserve my return bus ticket so that I wouldn’t get caught out again. My taxi-driver was a lovely man and we chatted in a mixture of faltering French (on my part) and faltering English (on his part though his English was still better than my French!) I took a wander round the busy market then wandered into a local church (turned out to be Presbyterian – seems like I couldn’t get away from my roots on this trip) where lots of singing seemed to be happening. The building was packed and I was made very welcome and shown to a space on one of the benches. In the short time I was there, four different choirs got up to sing – first of all someone would start off and the choir would make their way up to the front then they would start into their song properly with the church band trying to catch up and the keyboard person desperately trying to find the right key (once or twice they never managed to sync with the choir, but kept going nonetheless).  Everything was in Kinyarwanda so I hadn’t a clue what was going on. To be honest there were similarities with some churches at home – there was a minister in robes at the front with four others who all looked a bit stern. Some of the folks in the congregation looked a bit bored, like they were going through the motions, it seemed as if some of that austere Scottish Presbyterianism had filtered across time-zones and continents. After 20 minutes or so I wandered back to the market to meet the taxi-driver – if I’d wanted I could have walked to the border-post as Goma in the Democratic Republic of Congo is just a couple of kilometres away, but the beach at the hotel was calling my name.

So the rest of the day I enjoyed the sheer and unadulterated bliss of not having anything to do bar read, enjoy the scenery and watch the world go by. I had grilled tilapia (lake fish) and chips for lunch – Rwandans make great fish and chips! 

Later in the evening when I had dinner, the hotel guests were treated to an entertaining display by a group of traditional Intore dancers and drummers. Two of the dancers wore long blond wigs – impressive enough to make Miss Piggy jealous – which is meant to be made from monkey hair. Gee whizz, being a tourist is so tough eh?

Bus Worship - Day 5

Well hello there beautiful people, apologies for the lack of update over the weekend - I was nowhere near a computer and more importantly I was doing some serious chilling! I'll update tomorrow maybe about the trip to Gisenye and Day 4 because it was pretty darned good and I was in a stunning location but as I'm meeting up with a couple of expat friends of friends later I'll leave you with the tale of one of my most surreal and hilarious experiences of this trip.

This morning I was booked onto the 11.30am bus from Gisenyi to Kigali. Having reserved and paid for the ticket yesterday I was a wee bit miffed when the driver told me I'd have to pay extra for my bag because it didn't fit into the bus' meagre boot space (well ok, my bag is rather on the large side but then I've been carrying a few gifts for the Compassion project and my sponsor child tomorrow) but he seemed a bit grumpy so I ended up paying even though on the way to Gisenye on Saturday I hadn't had this issue. Getting everyone settled onto the bus was a bit of a bunfight, there were bags and people everywhere (it seats about 25-30 people) and I ended up in one of the 'bucket' seats - a seat in the aisle which folds up when not in use. It's also the seat directly beside the door so I was praying that the door would hold fast!

When we set off it seemed that we had a preacher on board - this guy a couple of rows behind me started giving it everything he had. I'd heard of this before - apparently there are places in Africa where preachers will travel various bus-routes simply to preach the gospel. But then there was a chorus of Amens and Hallelujahs and I realised that this guys wasn't on his own. As I looked around I noticed that many of the women sitting near me had the same red silk shirt on and many of the people on the bus were sporting a yellow and brown scarf (in my book, yellow and brown don't really go with red but then I'm not known for my fashion). Then the singing started so whether these guys were going to some gospel choir convention or what I'd no clue but it seemed like the Pentecostals were in town. If Amen and Hallelujah were said once they were said a thousand times. The next 2 hours was a full-on church service with singing and praying non-stop, along with much hand-raising and arm-waving. The singing was absolutely beautiful - I wish I could have taped it, and they were so joyful, it seemed like it all really meant something to them. There was one stage when the lady beside me got so excited and carried away that she flung her arm around me and we swayed from side to side together. If you'd been a fly on the wall you would have been in absolute stitches at the cut of me, I didn't know where to look, all I could do was grin inanely, but was rather thankful when a hairpin bend forced me to grab the door handle for balance and the lady detached herself from me. Near the start of the journey I had offered her one of my cookies and she'd given thanks for it before eating it.

By the way, this is all happening in the local lingo - Kinyarwanda - of which I only know 2 words although I can now add Jesu Christo to this repertoire, and I also recall hearing Uganda, Kenya, Burundi, Tanzania and Ethiopia getting prayed for but basically I didn't understand anything else. Then came the moment when anyone not in the choir was given the opportunity to introduce themselves, I think there was just 4 of us. Muggins of course had to go first. And then I think each of us got prayed for. After 2 hours of the journey had passed we had a pit-stop and most of the passengers got some lunch. When we got on our way again the bus seemed like more of a WI outing except with men present, everyone was having a good natter. But as we got to the outskirts of Kigali the singing got underway again, and to be honest it felt like the most natural thing in the world by this stage. It was a truly rich experience. Travelling on Belfast's Metro service just is not going to do anything for me from now on.

How do you follow that?!

African tea appreciation - Day 3

Having gotten engrossed in my blogging yesterday I managed not to leave myself enough time to visit Kigali's Genocide Memorial as it closes at 5pm so wandered round the city centre a bit more, got the necessary tourist photo of the entrance of the Hotel des Milles Collines - made famous by the film, Hotel Rwanda (the film wasn't made on location, they filmed in S Africa instead, but it's a famous site in the context of what happened here in '94). I also dipped in and out of a few handcraft shops. I think I'm gradually beginning to switch off and it's superbly blissful to have the time to simply read. Last night I tried out some African tea (as opposed to black tea - same as the stuff we drink at home more or less) which is a bit like a mildly spicy milky chai. It was absolutely delicious, I want to figure out what they put into it.

This morning I went to Kigali's Genocide Memorial and to be honest I don't think I'm ready to write about that yet - I'll leave it for another time. It was moving and awful and beautiful and still and disturbing all at once.

A bit later this afternoon I'm heading by bus to Gisenyi at Lake Kivu in the west and I'm looking forward to some chill-out time by the lake. The route should take me within good view of Volcanoes National Park famous for being home to Rwanda's mountain gorillas. I'll blog from there tomorrow if I get the chance or else when I get back to Kigali on Monday.