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Dispatch #4 from Rwanda
Hello all,
For the most part it's been a relatively uneventful
week as I've been fighting a cold; however, one day in
particular stands out - Saturday - the day of Ines's
wedding. (Ines is the acting director for the
university's school of journalism and the person I
deal most with).
It was one of those days where you really had to be
there but let me try to tell the story.
Steve Pasternack (a prof from New Mexico) had arrived
earlier in the week for his 13th visit to Rwanda. He's
done a lot of work for the J-school and was here for a
week to meet Tarja, a woman from UNESCO, to talk about
the possibility of setting up a radio station for the
school. Remember, currently there is only one radio
station in the entire country. According to the new
press law that was passed recently, more licenses will
be approved, but it hasn't happened yet. So, they were
here for that and included me in some of the
discussions (as I have some experience in starting a
radio station).
Ines' wedding was Saturday March 29 in Kigali. Although
I had the energy of a slug, I knew I had to attend so
I made arrangements with Steve and Tarja to ride in
the UNESCO vehicle Saturday morning to Kigali. I also
convinced another friend, JC, to come along, although
he felt he wasn't dressed for the occasion (he had on
a tshirt and shorts). I assured him we'd find him
something in Kigali. So the plan was to go to this
awesome Indian restaurant for lunch then head to the
wedding for 2:45pm. Steve and Tarja both had flights
in the evening so they would have to duck out at
around 4:30. We all hoped it started on time.
First problem...the car arrives an hour late (but I won
the bet on when it would arrive and was to get at
least one beer at lunch). We all pack into the vehicle
and make the 2-hour journey north along the curvy,
pot-holed roads. We get to the restaurant, sit and
peruse the menu as we wait for Manolo (he's the
culture-shocked American who had just arrived in
Kigali when I met him the week before). We order and
JC takes off to look for some suitable clothing. I had
told him to go to the shop next door cuz in my mind I
remembered it as the Rwandan Wal-Mart. When I went to
check on him 20 minutes later I walked in and realized
it was a grocery story and not an all-purpose store.
Who knew where JC had ventured off to? He showed up
some time later wearing his shorts and t-shirts, only
difference now was he had on a rather funky vest-type
thing with all sorts of zippers and pockets...what I can
only describe as a photographer's vest.
We enjoyed our lunch immensely and ordered some chai
masala to finish the meal. The server came over with a
tray with 3 pots of hot tea on them. She came to the
table, picked up one of the pots and the tray went
flying - hot tea all over Steve. Yikes. Within seconds
a man came over with a pressed and folded pink shirt
(the color the prisoners here wear). They took Steve's
shirt and sent it off to be laundered and sent someone
to the pharmacy to get him some cream for the burn.
They told us they would deliver the shirt to us at the
wedding (supposedly before Steve and Tarja took off
for the airport).
We all pile into the UNESCO vehicle (only this time it
was quite a bit tighter as we had one more person to
squish in) and make our way to the wedding; all we
have for directions is a very rough handwritten map.
As we're driving I suddenly hear this tinkling sound
and someone saying "shit". Then Manolo (a bit late)
tells us all to shut our eyes. Turns out the
mini-van/bus next to us had hit a pothole and one of
its side windows just completely blew out with the
shattered glass flying right at us (we all had our
windows open). Yikes...what was this day coming to?
So we keep going and end up at a location with a
couple of decorated buildings and young men and women
in black and white ready to serve. We asked several
people if this was the wedding of Ines...they said yes
or they thought so. It was already 3pm and we'd been
told the wedding was at 245. We looked around not
seeing too many people, we were skeptical but
reassured ourselves by remembering where we were. We
kept waiting, had a beer, sat and talked in the sun.
We waited and waited. 4:30 rolls around and Steve and
Tarja have to head to the airport. For whatever
reason, Steve pulls out the map again and looks at it.
We suddenly realize we're very likely at the wrong
place. Oh my god. We start laughing hysterically,
somehow it was just par for the way the entire day was
going. We look for Manolo so we can hit the road.
Eventually he saunters over; he'd been taking pictures
of the wedding decorations (of people we didn't
know!!)
Steve and Tarja take off to the airport so myself, JC
and Manolo start walking, map in hand. We make it to
the main road and ask someone where "isina"(banana
trees, apparently) is. Isina is, you see, underlined
and circled on this map. A woman leads the way and
points to a couple of banana trees on a small road.
Apparently the banana trees lead the way to the place
of the wedding. Who knew??? We keep walking. Finally
we see a blue and white awning and then a bunch of
cars. By now it's 5pm (the wedding began at 245). We
straggle in, all eyes on us, for everyone is sitting
watching as the elders discuss what the dowry should
be (turns out to be one cow). I collect some sound,
take some pictures then someone tells me Ines is
looking for me. I'm sure she is, I think. I'm led
inside the house into a room. Turns out this is where
the bride and the women hang out until the elders have
finished their negotiations. I see Ines who is wearing
something that resembles an Indian sari (so are all
the women in the wedding party) and do a quick
interview with her. I tried to explain to her why we
were so late and that Steve was sorry he missed her,
but clearly she was in bride-land, silly me. I then
headed back outside.
Finally, some dancers come out of the house, Ines
following. She is led to the tent and is seated with
her husband. There is some singing then some more
negotiations, some more dancing and by 6:15 it was all
over.
JC and I had not been sure how we were going to get
back to Butare - the last bus had left the center at
6, but I was confident that we could find a ride
somehow or perhaps hire a car.
People got up, mingled and began to leave. I started
asking if anyone was going back to Butare. Wasn't
getting anywhere, called a taxi and he wanted $100, no
way, I thought, that was extortionist!! I heard that a
university vehicle was going back, but it was full.
Panic set in and I started asking around again.
Finally, someone told me a couple of students were
staying in Kigali so there was room for myself and JC
in the university vehicle. I was ecstatic! By this
point I was totally exhausted and just wanted to curl
up in bed. Was told the car (kind of a mini-bus) would
leave around 6:30 or 7. So we hung out and waited.
Finally, the bus pulled up. We climbed aboard and
waited. 15 minutes later we were told to get off, that
the bus was going to bring some people into Kigali
first and then would return. So off we got and waited.
And waited. The center was only 10 minutes away. We
waited a good 45 minutes and finally the bus appeared.
We got on again, rounded up the others and shortly
after 8 we were on the road. I sighed. Another 2 hours
and I'd be in bed.
How wrong I was.
On the way out of town, we bounced up and down the
dirt roads of Kigali dropping off a number of our
passengers. Finally by 9 we were on the highway. I
prayed that the driver was not suicidal, or homicidal,
for traveling on that road in the pitch dark is a
journey not to be taken lightly. Potholes and other
obstacles dotted the road as we climbed up, then down
very curvy hillsides - not a road for the feint of
heart. I just hung on as the driver hit the gas. I
calmed myself by looking out the window at the myriad
stars in the sky...so many stars. It was my first real
view of the night sky since I'd been here. It was
beautiful; lightning bolts flashed in the distance.
Shortly after 11 we were on the outskirts of Butare.
But it would be another 45 minutes before I was
dropped off as we drove thru the dirt roads to parts
of Butare that I didn't even know existed to drop off
a number of people. At midnight we finally reached the
Hotel Credo, my home away from home! I was so
relieved. I jumped out of the van, grabbed my room key
and off I went to my room. I was exhausted but wired
from the day's events so poured a small glass of South
African wine (very nice!). Sucked that back, chuckled
to myself and finally collapsed in bed.
I think I packed enough excitement into that one short
day to last me for a while, but somehow that's how
things are here.
Michelle
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