Kigali, Rwanda – Though I’ve only been there for about 12 hours since I landed in this country a week ago, I began my day at my ‘home away from home’ in Kitabi. Shortly after breakfast, though, it was back on the road for the three-hour return to Kigali, where we have a day of meetings with the National University of Rwanda, followed by two days in Kibuye, on the country’s western border with DR Congo.
As I have not seen much blue sky since arriving, it was a particularly nice treat to awaken to a clear backdrop to one of the most stunning natural scenes I’ve seen in my life this morning. The mountain air in Kitabi was thin like the clouds framing the plots of tea that cling to the hills falling away from my front door. I breathed it all in deeply to take with me on our commute to the country’s capital.
Regardless of the time or where we go, Rwanda’s roadways are constantly lined by people on bicycles or on foot, generally carrying something on their heads – suitcases, briefcases, bedrolls, bundles of sticks, yellow jerry cans of water or large foliage that makes them look as though they have Sideshow Bob’s hair. A quick cut to the horn gets those who have strayed onto the pavement to correct their steps.
Heavily laden trucks wheeze exhaust like chain smokers in an attempt to make it up the many steep hills; so slow are they that pedestrians pass them. At any point on the road, you can count on a bus passing in the other direction at least every two minutes. Essentially large minivans, they’re on time here, and full.
Enroute, we passed several more groups of pink jumpsuit-clad prisoners who were off to work the fields under the watchful eye of heavily armed guards. Others manned a biogas facility. Strangely, yet others were found sitting in a small roadside cemetery – it made me wonder if this was an added element to their restitution. It’s striking how many prisoners you see, particularly when you consider how little crime there is in the country now. It’s a bit of a reminder.
Pulling into Kigali in the early afternoon, we were greeted by the familiar red clay brick houses that line the city’s hills like jagged teeth. The rest of the day was spent doing what one learns to do a lot of here: waiting. We sat for more than two hours for a scheduled meeting with a high-ranking official who did not materialize. Alas, this is not uncommon.
As I have not seen much blue sky since arriving, it was a particularly nice treat to awaken to a clear backdrop to one of the most stunning natural scenes I’ve seen in my life this morning. The mountain air in Kitabi was thin like the clouds framing the plots of tea that cling to the hills falling away from my front door. I breathed it all in deeply to take with me on our commute to the country’s capital.
Regardless of the time or where we go, Rwanda’s roadways are constantly lined by people on bicycles or on foot, generally carrying something on their heads – suitcases, briefcases, bedrolls, bundles of sticks, yellow jerry cans of water or large foliage that makes them look as though they have Sideshow Bob’s hair. A quick cut to the horn gets those who have strayed onto the pavement to correct their steps.Heavily laden trucks wheeze exhaust like chain smokers in an attempt to make it up the many steep hills; so slow are they that pedestrians pass them. At any point on the road, you can count on a bus passing in the other direction at least every two minutes. Essentially large minivans, they’re on time here, and full.
Enroute, we passed several more groups of pink jumpsuit-clad prisoners who were off to work the fields under the watchful eye of heavily armed guards. Others manned a biogas facility. Strangely, yet others were found sitting in a small roadside cemetery – it made me wonder if this was an added element to their restitution. It’s striking how many prisoners you see, particularly when you consider how little crime there is in the country now. It’s a bit of a reminder.
Pulling into Kigali in the early afternoon, we were greeted by the familiar red clay brick houses that line the city’s hills like jagged teeth. The rest of the day was spent doing what one learns to do a lot of here: waiting. We sat for more than two hours for a scheduled meeting with a high-ranking official who did not materialize. Alas, this is not uncommon.
1 comment:
Glad to hear all is well, especially the return of the travelling bag. Look fwrd to your posts. Remember to keep your head down.
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