The Left Handed Blogger – 6th in series. Kigali transport, shops, food and drink.

The Left Handed Blogger - 6^th. in series. Kigali transport, shops, food and drink.

 

The transport system in Kigali is very effective once you have worked it out. It works on five levels. Bicycles (no, not for hire, you actually sit on the back on a cushioned seat), I have not tried this; motorcycles (known as motos) are the most popular form of transport and you are provided with a helmet that is virtually always ill-fitting and would not protect you if you fell off at two miles an hour but VSO volunteers are provided with a European crash helmet and mine is a very fetching white patterned, full faced Nitro Dynamo (with air vents!). I have tried motos a few times and the riders vary from the ultra cautious to the maniacal but there are thousands of them so you never have to wait. There are no fixed prices so haggling is a must; minibuses (confusingly referred to as taxis), are as equally common as motos and the prices of these are set at 200Rwf., about 25p in town whilst the price can rise to as much as 7000Rwf. on long journeys which is still excellent value. Excellent value it may be but they are typically African as far as comfort is concerned i.e. they are very uncomfortable. Unlike in other parts of Africa, however, they are really quite roadworthy. They all have tyres with tread on and I have never been on one that has broken down even they look as though they are falling apart; buses and these are my favourite way of getting around because they can be as equally cheap as minibuses but are much bigger with comfortable individual seats. We travelled to the far north over Christmas for the equivalent of £3.50 each and it was a truly spectacular journey. These buses are also roadworthy and can even climb hills without the aid of brick brakes (common in Ghana) or a helping hand. My favourite company in Kigali is The Kigali Bus Service because you do not have to wait for them to fill up and for this you pay an extra 6p; finally what we would call taxis but are known as taxi-voitures here to distinguish them from minibus taxis. These are relatively expensive and only to be used if there is no alternative i.e. if you have a lot of luggage, there are four of you or it is late at night because all the other forms of transport stop at about ten o'clock.

All these vehicles (with the exception of bicycles) are regularly stopped at road blocks by the police and checked for road worthiness and driver's qualification to drive it. In the many roadblocks that I have encountered, I have never once seen money change hands and as this was an alternative form of income for the police in Ghana, I find this very refreshing. There are also roadblocks for other reasons that have nothing to do with transportation but that is not the subject of this blog.

So, once you have worked out the transport system and you know where to go, what will you find? Here I should make a distinction between Kigali and most of the rest of the country. You will get virtually anything you want in Kigali but your choices may be pretty limited elsewhere in terms of shops. The big chains of shops from around the world have not yet descended on Rwanda so there are many small, privately owned specialist shops to investigate from food to plumbing equipment! Real supermarkets are rare even in Kigali and are usually run by Indian Rwandans. These offer most things from the mundane to the exotic.

We are very lucky where we live because we do not have to get the bus into the middle of town to get everything we need to eat and drink. For example, I bought a whole fillet of beef yesterday (for£2.50) – eat your heart out Lon! Gloria has also had some clothes made and we are a short distance from the biggest local market in Rwanda where I will be going shortly to get some vegetables. All in all it is not difficult for us to be here!

This has gone on longer than I thought so there will have to be a third Kigali edition on food and drink because as you know that is my favourite subject and I would not want to rush it. More to come and stay well.

THE LEFT HANDED BLOGGER NEXT IN SERIES KIGALI

THE LEFT HANDED BLOGGER-5^TH IN SERIES-KIGALI

Kigali is built on and in a series of hills. The hills do not have names as do the hills in Rome and they are not endowed with the history of that capital city but they are spectacular. It is difficult to navigate around Kigali because of the hills. The roads do not follow a logical pattern and it is easy to get lost. I have been lost many times not only because of the hills but also because the driver's mates on the buses speak so quickly that I do not always cotton on to where they are going. It is not a disaster to be lost in Kigali. For a start, you are never far away from a beer so you can always take time out to consider your situation in a relaxed manner. I have become even more relaxed here and you might find that difficult to believe but it is true. I like Kigali.

I know my Aunties, Hazel and Heather read my blog and they live in Perth, Western Australia which as they will tell you is a very clean place. There seems to be a certain civic pride in its cleanliness but I tell you now, eat your heart out Perth because Kigali is so full of civic pride that it makes Perth look like nobody cares. If I had fallen into a ditch drain in Ghana I would be dead and not writing this. I probably would have died of something unmentionable. Here the ditch drains are cleaner than our house in Leamington Spa.

We even have a formal clean up, civic responsibility programme. It is called Umaganda and takes place everywhere in the country on the last Saturday of each month between 8.00am and 11.00am. The whole country comes to a standstill, no shops open and no transport allowed. Each Umaganda district (quite small) decides on its own priorities with a head person taking charge. Whenever the activity is done there is then a get together when local disputes are resolved without recourse to law.

The Umaganda seems to work well here but I doubt it would work in Eden Court (for those of you not from Leamington Spa, Eden Court is a high rise block of flats on the highest point in Leamington Spa, not renowned for its civic pride and its nickname is The Golan Heights-need I say more?).

At dusk in Kigali two things of note happen: mosquitoes come out as does the army. The mosquitoes are a force of nature and in truth are not too bad here because we are quite high up. The army clearly is not a force of nature but I have found them to be polite, courteous and not in the least intrusive in their half platoon detachments in strategic positions. Nobody takes any notice of them and people are happy with the idea they are there for protection after some incidents a little while ago. Once again, it may not work in the UK but hey, this is not the UK, it is not my country and I am grateful for the chance to live and work here (albeit unpaid!).

The transport arrangements and shops deserve a blog of their own so that will be next. Stay well and more to come.

THE LEFT HANDED BLOGGER – THE JOB – 4th. IN SERIES

 

I am no longer just a left handed blogger but I like the title so it stays. My right hand is now mended and only a little stiff around the knuckles so this blog is a two handed affair. I do not really know why I bothered telling you that. It is like one of those useless twitterings that seem to be taking over the internet; on with the topic.

I am placed with the National Organisation of Users and Survivors of Psychiatry in Rwanda. The title deserves some explanation. Many of our 300 or so members are survivors of the genocide that took place in 1994 but by no means all of them. The 'survivors' referred to in the title are in fact survivors of the psychiatric services in Rwanda. The members of NOUSPR believe (with justification) that the medical approach to mental health challenges in Rwanda is not as good as it should be and is a threat to their human rights. I am not here, however, to judge and my job title is Research and Advocacy Advisor with the specific brief to help NOUSPR develop an Advocacy Strategy based on some qualitative research. Sadly the research has yet to be funded so I have not got far.

So what have I been doing you ask? The answer to this is connected to my boss here in NOUSPR, one Sam Badegee, who is without question a very good and inspirational man. He is also very funny. For example, when asked at our induction programme what he expected of me he answered 'I expect him to pull his socks up'. I do not quite know where he thought my socks were but I did wonder where he was getting his information from! Anyway, in early October, Sam was 'asked' by The Government to go to Japan for two months on a study/representation of Rwanda programme. This was not a request that he could easily turn down. He was left with an awkward problem because NOUSPR is made up entirely of volunteers and has no money whatsoever but there was to be a great deal of things going on whilst he was away but nobody really to deal with them. So he asked me to run the organisation in his absence. VSO volunteers are not meant to do such things and as it was breaking the rules, I naturally agreed to do it (breaking rules comes quite easily to me).

I have had an interesting few weeks and anyone who knows anything about Africa will be aware that things are done differently here. Time, for example, is a different concept in Africa and believe me it is futile to go against the grain. This was something I knew already but it was really brought home to me when an educational tourist company asked NOUSPR if it would host two events for visiting psychiatrists from America. Ever looking for funding possibilities, I of course said yes. The first event was held in our house (yes it is quite big) and getting on for 20 people from America, many of whom are eminent in their chosen field, duly turned up at 9.00 a.m. on Sunday 6^th. Nov. The members of NOUSPR were of course late even though I had told them of the opportunities to sell their craft goods to a bus load of rich American 'Muzungos' (rich white folk), so I did what I do best and bullshitted until the programme proper started. I have to tell you that the three hours spent with the members and the Americans were some of the most remarkable and emotive time I have ever experienced and you will know I am not easily moved. Hearing stories of survivors of the genocide and the psychiatric services really does put things into proper perspective and I was even impressed by the Americans who quite clearly were not only genuinely interested but also quite openly and honestly distressed, so much so that the women's' groups that made the craft goods had a bonanza day!

The bonanza they had on that day had quite an effect because on the 13^th. November a second group of American psychiatrists were due to come. This time the group was double the size (our house is not that big so we had to hire a room at a hotel) and do you know that all the members (and there were a few more) turned up half an hour early to set up their stalls! Oh the power of the dollar. Everyone was a winner.

More to come stay well.     

 

THE LEFT HANDED BLOGGER-CHEZ GODFREY- MCCABE 3RD. IN SERIES

We have a very good house. It has nine rooms and a garage (where Claude lives). There are two bathrooms (no baths) and two kitchens (very dark). The floors are painted red, much like an industrial unit and should be easy to keep clean. We must, of course, first buy something to clean them with. Perhaps tomorrow, depending on what football is on.

We have mice (Gloria thinks it is a small rat) and we have cockroaches. Gloria finds the cockroaches easy to live with. I think she has watched 'Men in Black 'too often or there might be something I do not know about her. She has not taken well to the mice (or rat). On seeing one she lets out a noise that is something between a howl and a scream and refuses to go into the kitchen (that is where they seem to reside). I have not seen one so I must wonder if this is not a terribly clever ruse on her part or a genuine phobia. I am under instruction to block up the hole/drain under the sink and this I will shortly do.

We have electricity that works virtually all of the time. We have running cold water most of the time but it is not of good enough pressure to have a shower in the morning. So whilst it may appear luxury to have two bathrooms, we may just as well stick to the buckets we have.

I have yet to work out how to attach photographs to my blog but when I do you will see that we also have a fine garden and as I write, Claude is doing a bit of gardening. Gloria is threatening to grow stuff. It should not be difficult as the climate is perfect for agriculture. Both vegetables and fruit are readily available and the bananas come almost in bite sizes.

We have bought a fridge and a coffee maker on the grounds that we are not here to do penance and anyway I have not spent any of my redundancy money yet. The fridge/freezer was expensive by anybody's standards but it has opened up a whole new world of butter, yoghurt and even fresh milk for cereals if we feel that way inclined. The coffee maker is a real treat as Rwandan coffee is very good. Both items are well worth the money.

I have just seen our mouse-rat so I had better get on with blocking up that hole, otherwise I will be the only one using the kitchen. More to follow stay well.

THE LEFT HANDED BLOGGER-ETHICAL DILEMMAS: 2ND IN THE SERIES

I am not often associated with struggles in ethics but before I get on to the main theme of this offering, I want to put something straight. There is a scurrilous rumour being perpetrated following my first in series that I was in fact coming back from a bar when I fell in the ditch; this would suggest that some of you think I like a beer or two and that this led to my demise. Not true and in fact my mishap has been repeated by another volunteer, also on her way out. We have therefore started a new society, for which we are trying to think of a catchy name (any ideas?), that is for people traumatised by open drains. The aim of this new society is to campaign for all open ditches and drains to be covered. We are not optimistic about success but you have to start somewhere and I am sure that we can rely on your support. Being a founder member, I am of course Chairman, a role that I will take very seriously!

Now to the main theme, that of ethical dilemmas. Anybody that knows me will be aware that anything to do with Colonialism or colonial behaviour is abhorrent to me. Imagine then my discomfort when we learned that not only is it normal that volunteers have guards to their properties but that VSO pays for them. Furthermore it is also quite normal for people to employ help in the house. You may say that there is nothing amiss with this arrangement because it provides employment, adds to the economy etc. That is a fair and accurate point except that the pay is about 1.5$US per day for the guard and they are expected to work seven days a week.

Do not have a guard I hear you say, unless you can and want to give more. Again a fair point but our 'guard' came with the house and sacking him is an even bigger ethical dilemma! Giving him more, even if our allowance could go that far (it is actually quite expensive to live in Kigali-the only relatively inexpensive items being beer and meat) would not be welcomed by anybody but the guard.

We will not be having house help.

To the guard himself then. His name is Claude and as far as I can make out he was homeless or near to it before he came to our house. He started guarding two weeks before we arrived and took up residence in our garage/VSO storeroom. He has a mattress and the room is dry. He was not sure at first if we would allow him to continue to live there and he was eager to please. So much so that we had to get an interpreter to explain to him that we did not expect him to work 24 hours a day and that it was OK if he stayed there. So he guards at night and we generally converse in sign language as he has no English or French. We are learning Kinyarwanda but slowly and after some negotiation he now earns a little more from us for doing the garden.

I have to be honest and say that as a guard he is probably not fit for purpose being much smaller than me and quite young but then again I am not sure what he is guarding. I do not feel unsafe or threatened and our house has more locks than fort Knox.

It never occurred to me that I would ever have to what amounts to a servant. There is no contract of employment or agreement other than verbal and we are not allowed to give him one. No security of work and no expectation of any. I do not feel at all comfortable with this but reconcile myself to the fact that Claude is very happy (we checked this out through the interpreter) and that asking him to leave would be worse than accepting the status quo. Stay well and more to come.

 

 

 

THE LEFT HANDED BLOGGER 1ST IN THE SERIES

You will probably know that I am not left handed so this title deserves some explanation. I am going to try to put stuff on more regularly than before but I doubt any future piece will reflect such stupidity on my part.

I am having to type this with my left hand because I have single handedly (forgive the pun) invented a new sport for Rwanda and in the process I have disabled myself temporarily. Pavement diving is well known to all of you I suspect but I doubt you have heard of Drain Ditch diving. For this you need a concrete ditch of at least three feet in depth, a really stupid player and a dark night without street lighting. All these prerequisites came into play on our first night in Rwanda.

I was truly knackered having flown with Ethiopian Airways and spent four hours sitting on the floor in Addis Ababa airport waiting for our connection. It is quite frankly a shithole (the airport I mean, I am told that the city is very nice). We were given an excellent welcome by the in-country staff and taken to our home for the first two weeks and although I could have slept for a long time we agreed to go out for a drink because it was one of our parties birthday. Oh silly me!

We started walking to the venue but the street lights went out (well This Is Africa) and I was without torch and dreaming as I do. Quite suddenly the ground denied me access and, leading with my left leg, I fell into an abyss with what can only be described as a perfect half turn, slamming my right hand into the concrete wall and landing squarely on my arse. There was no head involved in the collision so concussion was not an issue but there was enough blood to keep the transfusion service happy for a while had they been able to collect it.

Now you can imagine that the sort of people that do VSO have an abundance of concern and empathy and, bless them, they showed it and as there are 25 of us here I was overwhelmed with it. Sensible suggestions were made, like going to hospital but I was determined not to let a little blood stop me having a beer. I wrapped my hand in a handkerchief and manfully, without complaint, walked to the bar.

Needless to say, the first beer did not touch the sides (and by the by the beer is cheap and very good). The manageress of this fine establishment noticed I was having some difficulty pouring my beer. This was fairly obvious at this point because I was bleeding all over her floor but her concern was genuinely for me and not her decor. She sent out for first aid stuff, dressed my wound with iodine that stung like shit and wrapped it in a bandage. So I got a bit pissed but not very and slept like a log.

Next morning I was ‘invited’ by VSO to go to a clinic to have my hand checked out. I was provided with a driver and got to the clinic in no time at all. Let me say now that the treatment that I eventually received was without fault. I say eventually because after being registered very quickly I was shown into the doctor’s room. I expected him to be concerned and to look at my injury immediately. This was not the case and we had, at his behest, a very long conversation about? Yes indeed, Manchester United, that just goes to prove that Phil is not alone in being a fan with absolutely no connection with the town. Eventually and after a further long conversation about the difference between Irish and Scottish names he gave me a prescription and told me to go and see the nurse without even looking at my wound. He was however a very nice chap.

The nurse spoke no English and we got by in a sort of French. He was very thorough if without finesse but would not have won prizes for embroidery as the dozen or so stitches I had to have have made my hand look somewhat like spaghetti junction.

So here I am, stitched, badly bruised but not broken in body or spirit and do you know what, I already like this country. Stay well you all. Next instalment from our house, (Yes, we do have one this time. J)        

Getting started...

just getting started. Leaving UK in 15 days time - more to come