Unexpected rain

Now that dry season is here, I have become reckless and have stopped carting my waterproof trousers around with me.  I knew this was probably foolish, but the heat is so great, that I could not believe I would need them.  Of course, this wild act meant that it did rain.  And it rained so heavily.  It seemed to come from nowhere.  Suddenly my moto driver was forced to pull over as we could not see in front of us.  We pulled over and sheltered under the eaves of a house.  The rain was pelting down with some force and the owner of the house came out and invited us to sit inside.

We were ushered into the gloom and sat on a seat inside.  He left and didn’t return.  My moto driver and I just sat there, waiting.  We could not have conversation as the rain was so hard, you couldn’t hear anything above it.  Within 15mins of arriving at the house, the huge oil barrel outside was over-flowing with the water that had come off the gutter and collected in it.  The owner of the house was having a conversation with his friend over the phone.  He really had to shout to make himself heard.  Once the conversation was finished, apart from the rain, it was really peaceful.  I closed my eyes and rested my head against the wall.  Thinking of the luxury of it being OK to wait it out.  At home I would be stressed about the need to get to work.  Here, it is entirely acceptable to stop when the rain starts.  There is no way the roads were navigable in those conditions.

Then the children of the house began looking through the door to see who was there.  They gradually became more brave and started coming into the room before running back out, screaming.  This continued for about 20mins.  Then the moto driver encouraged the boys to come and talk to us.  They wouldn’t, of course.  But the older one was brave.  He started to read his school textbook.  He was naming all the pictures it contained.  His little brother soon joined in and they were showing me how many words they knew.  It was lovely to see children looking at books – even if they were school books.  Then they picked up a story book and had a “read” of that.  Although it was in English, so they seemed to make a story in Kinyarwanda.

Looking around the room, my eyes began to adjust to the gloom.  Our moto helmets were piled near a chair in the corner.  With the exception of a table and some chairs and a picture of the Holy Family, the room was bare.  And the floor was perfectly swept.

The continuing rain made me sleepy, almost like a lullaby.  The darkness was lit up by the occasional flash of bright orange lightening and was accompanied by loud cracks of thunder.  It sounded like the hills were being split apart and the house would shake with each one.

After we had been there for nearly an hour and the boys had become more brave, I asked them if I could read to them.  So they came and sat with me and we read the story about the hare and the moon.  I know they didn’t understand much but we tried to talk through the pictures and translate English to Kinyarwanda.  We were able to name all of the animals.  The boys were lovely and sat either side of me, listening and pointing at the pictures.  It is so unusual to see a house with printed material in it.  We had obviously been invited into the home of some progressive parents.  After 90mins the rain had begun to ease off, so my moto driver suggested we could leave.

We donned our helmets and got back on the moto.  Waved off by our new friends and some other children who had heard of our presence.  It was yet another of those special moments that exist here, where people kindly invite you in and make sure you are OK and expect nothing at all in return.

Happiness, pineapples and coffee

Well, it’s been quite some time since my last blog post, so sorry if you have almost given up on me!  Things have been very busy for both good and bad reasons, and it has been hard to find the time to sit down and write all about it.  I shall endeavour to catch up on some of the events in the next couple of weeks.

Rainy season has at last finished and moto commutes are now a dusty affair once again.  However, they are also spectacular in the scenery they offer.  There is something so beautiful about the green hills of Rwanda set against a beautiful blue sky – even at 7:30 in the morning.  That’s not to say the rainy season views are worse – they offer their own beauty – for example, in the way that you can be riding above the clouds on a cool morning or to see the spectacular force of a downpour upon nature.

I have noticed changes as I ride along.  Firstly, the crops which were planted some time ago are starting to be harvested.  Beans are once again being carried in huge bundles on the heads of men, women and children.  Ready to take home and dry out and then release the beautiful coloured beans within.  Coffee cherries which have been slowly ripening since I arrived are starting to be harvested.  Coffee trees have been stripped naked in some places and the beans are now ready to be sent away for manufacturing and packaging.  Rwandan coffee really is incredibly good, so if you find some – try it!  As I look at the bare coffee trees, I wonder how much money the farmers got for their crop.  I wonder do they know how much coffee sells for in places like the UK?  Sometimes I tell people here how much we are willing to pay for a cup of coffee and it almost seems vulgar.  They always look at me in shock and disbelief.  It’s the same when we discuss UK prices for mangoes, avocadoes and pineapples – all of which are incredibly cheap here.

Talking of pineapples...today I went to visit a school I had not been to yet.  The Head Teacher invited me as he would like me to come and work with the staff at the school.  I arranged my meeting and set off this morning.  It took over an hour to reach the school, but the scenery was spectacular.  I travelled through parts of the district I had not been to yet – passing Lake Mugesera and Lake Sake in the distance, and finally stopping near Lake Rweru – which forms part of the border between Rwanda and Burundi.  The school is one of the largest in the district with well over 2000 students.  It is set in really beautiful grounds with plenty of shady trees and nicely landscaped gardens with neat paths leading up to the classrooms.  Most of the buildings are very old, but they were very well looked after.  There was even outside space for a football pitch and a volleyball pitch and the Head Teacher is trying to get the money to build a handball alley.  They also grow crops of soya beans, maize and keep a cow (which has recently had a calf).

Anyway...back to the pineapples briefly...along the way we passed field upon field of pineapples.  I had wondered where they all came from on market days – they are so plentiful – yet I had only ever seen small patches of them growing.  To my own shame, I have to admit that I had not seen a pineapple plant before coming to Rwanda.  Nor had I wondered what one looked like.  For those of you that have not seen them, there is a (not very brilliant) picture of them here.  The pineapple looks completely incongruous – as though someone (maybe the pineapple fairies?) have come along in the night and plonked a pineapple on top of the plant.  People were busy working in the fields harvesting those that were ready and there were plenty for sale along the roadside.  Looking at all this and thinking of all the crops I see as I ride about the district something struck me for the first time...absolutely no one puts a fence around their crops.  And no one appears to steal their crops from the fields.  At home we are so fiercely protective of what’s ours that it would have walls and gates and all sorts surrounding it.  But not here.  That’s one of the other beautiful things about this country.  People are so honest.

Along the way, I saw lots of houses.  In one area, the houses were built in very straight “side streets” off the main dirt road.  All of the houses were identical and had a neat garden surrounding them.  In one small village there were three streets like this, each with about 20 houses along them.  It was so different to anything else I have seen.  A bit later on I saw more of them and then saw a sign to say that they had been built by the UNHCR.

A bit dusty and dishevelled after the moto ride
 - but still getting stares!

Back in the village, I created quite a stir.  I was apparently the first white person (or “white man” as many of the children were calling me) to visit the school (I am not sure this can be true), and the children were completely fascinated.  The Head Teacher walked me into town at lunch time to buy some brochettes and along the way it was not just children that were startled by me – it was the adults too.  But then, this is a place that is over an hour from the nearest main road, so not many people will pass through.

And so with our first meeting complete, I was back on the moto home.  It certainly wasn’t the most comfortable of roads, but I think I was smiling all the way home thinking what a privilege it is to be having some of the experiences I am having whilst I am here.  The commute alone is always incredible and the people I meet nearly always make me laugh or smile.  There is a lot of hardship in Rwanda and a lot of things are not perfect, but it seems quite easy to be happy here.