Friday Stress

Today started out very strangely - moreso than usual.

I woke up talking with The Man after some disturbing dream about planes. We chatted about life for a while, and he told me about some things that came up for him recently in his neighborhood. I worry about his neighborhood...

Anyways. I got on a moto to meet up with Denise so we could go to immigration for our visas. The moto was happy to drive me, so I got on. And then he missed the street we needed, and he kept going. Apparently, it's standard custom for motos to bring their passengers to gas stations (called "petrol stations") while they're in transit. And then he stopped for a while to chat with some of his moto friends in Kinyarwandan. I mean, there wasn't much I could do, right? I wasn't near where I needed to be, and he had my life on his moto to run over if I crossed him. Not like that'd really happen. But I like being safe rather than not.



Anyways, I got to Denise and my meeting spot 20 minutes late. And I didn't have the passport pictures I needed for the immigration office. Unfortunately, it was so early that no place was open to take my pictures, or at least nearby. So we opted to go get some tea before getting to work on time. And what luck! A restaurant by our school! We walked into the restaurant...to find it completely empty. Oh well, must not be opened...until two people crept out and looked at us. Neither of them spoke English OR French. So some guy on the street was beckoned in to translate for us, and before we know it (can't we just have tea?), one little lady is running down the street, pressumably to retrieve someone to come help them.

We had 40 minutes before work started, so we thought we'd be okay.

Some boy comes over, and he only understands French. So I proudly pull out my French chops and go back and forth between him and Denise. We want tea, bread, and butter. Two orders. VERY QUICKLY! I emphasized the last part. And the young man takes us up to a room on the second floor of this building, totally removed from the rest of the restaurant. It's dressed up much like an old tavern that hasn't been used much since 30 years ago. And we wait.

Thiry minutes later, the guy comes out with cereal for us on a plate, with spoons. Perplexed, I mentioned tea again, and soon? Soon soon! the man cries as he runs out. Lots of running...

Another 20 minutes go by, and we're late for the meeting at work. And I decide it's time to escape from this strange dining room before it's too late. As we get outside, the older boy runs out and says to me, "I'm done!"

"But we need to go! It took too long, and we are late for work! Do you have anything for it to go?"
"Oh, yes yes!" (This is all in French, mind you)

He runs out and comes back out with a pretty little tray, and a number of little compartementalized portions for us.

"But we need this to go!"
"Oh, yes yes!"

He runs out again, and comes back this time with two plates of eggs. But we didn't order eggs!

"To go! To go!"

At this time, we more or less gave up. I asked for napkins, and we buttered the bread and wrapped them up before throwing them in our bags. I chugged all of the water from my canteen and filled it with milky African Tea. And we ran off to work 2o minutes/30 minutes late.

So we started to look for motos to drive us quickly up the hill to school. To no avail! They wanted too much for it!! So we humphed and started walking up the street. The motos disappeareed. And as they did, a big Jeep stopped on the side of the road for us. A man with excellent English looks out smiling with his friend and say, "It was too much! We can give you a lift! Where to?"

Now, know that I'm normally not one to advocate for hitchhiking. But he seemed honestly wanting to help, and we were super late. And that was a big hill. So we climbed on in. It so happens the guy lives between Ottawa and Kigali, and just likes helping out. He works in agricultural engineering. I wish I had gotten his number. He drove us all the way to school, and we entered our meeting laughing.

The rain storms here are pretty intense. The hills make the thunderous echos even louder, and the rain pours hard. And what's more, is that when it rains, going outside is no longer an option. The roads are dirt paths mostly, and they get all muddy and watery. And the motos go away to hide from the pouring rain. I stayed at work another hour or so because it started to rain.