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Published: August 10th 2010
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At the bus depot ready for our great adventure. My weekend away (2 part entry due to its length)
08/09/2010 A few weeks age Emmanuel invited me to visit his family home in Muramba an area of Gisenyi. I have to admit that initially the thought of going to visit was interesting but as we got closer to the date I felt a bit wary as there seemed so much that was uncertain and in his wonderful African way couldn’t answer any of the concerns or questions that I had. For example I was under the impression it was a one day visit, an in, greet them then out. So I organised myself just for a one day visit. Oh no this was not the case, as we were boarding the bus to travel to his home town he informed me that we would be there for at least two days if not three. I looked at my white shirt which already looked as though it was two days old and in need of a wash and though unpleasant thoughts. I had no change of clothes (including socks and underwear) and I was going to be stuck in this place not knowing if I was going to DSCF0368
On the road to Muramba be able to wash myself. I felt a bit apprehensive. As I looked into Emmanuel’s smiling innocent face full of excitement and anticipation all thoughts of beating the living daylights out of him melted like ice over a hot flame. There is no way anyone could be mad at a Rwandan when they give you that excited and winning smile. I wish I could emulate it. After having sort of come to terms with this predicament I boarded the bus bound for Rwandan heaven (his words not mine). He wasn’t far wrong in his estimation of the place but more about that later.
One could not say that being on a Rwandan mini bus could never be likened to Rwandan heaven, maybe purgatory, even possibly hell (although this maybe a tad extreme). Let me give you a picture of a Rwandan mini bus. It is as the word says a mini bus, we have them at home. You have the front accommodating the driver plus 2 passengers, you have 3 two seaters in the back and then the final row of 3 against the back wall. Fine, except at the end of each rear two seaters you have welded
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On the road to Muramba. on a folding seat to carry an extra person. This would be good except that on these 2 seater, now converted into 3 seaters actually carry 4 or 5 passengers depending on whether there police around. The back seat which comfortably holds 3 people seat 5 passengers (size has no bearing on the number of people sitting in any of the rows) and the bus won’t move until every seat is occupied. If you’re a midget the seating arrangements maybe alright, anybody of medium height will find it uncomfortable because you are squashed in, if you are above average height your knees are around your ears. Then on top of this the mini buses are at least 10 years old, if not older, they look as though they haven’t had a road worthy check in the last 5 years and the drivers tear round like bats out of hell. In the tight winding roads of the countryside it is very nerve racking. On my trip to Emmanuel’s family home I was convinced there were a number of times that we were going to role . I am of the opinion that I could now brave the worst rides at the
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On the road to Muramba theme parks. But I suppose the bottom line is that even though it was hot, uncomfortable, long and nerve racking I made it to his place alive (something I seriously began to doubt).
The scenery on the drive up was fantastic. The pictures on this blog do the views no justice at all and one needs to be in a car where you could stop and take a bit of time admiring the view. Rwanda is nicknamed the land of a 1000 hills and on the drive I could understand why. The hills and valleys were breath taking.
Rwanda is worth the visit just for the scenery. Again I apologise for the fact that the photos don’t do the country justice. After the different mini bus trips (4 different buses each as uncomfortable as the others) we reach our destination, in a way. I would like to emphasis here that although the bus trips left a lot to be desired the company of all the different passengers was fantastic. You could ask for a nicer group of people to be squashed up with than Rwandans. They are polite, helpful and just basically very nice. Having reached our destination we
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On the road to Muramba. were then treated to another heart stopping joy ride on the back of a motor bike tearing down a dirt road as if they were in some dirt bike completion. I still refused to have a heart attack.
Finally we made it to Emmanuel’s hometown.. We went to have a look at the primary school he had worked at before moving to Gahanga. As we were about to walk into one of the classrooms he let drop in his inimitable African style that he had told his previous director (Principal) that we would be visiting. Okay, but what he failed to mention was that his principal had made every teacher come to school on that day and be part of a reception for my benefit. There were speeches (I had to give one which was translated as I spoke) and then we had a very tasty lunch. I was treated like a VIP, I felt very moved and humbled. The staff , even though being dragged in during their holidays couldn’t have been any more open and friendly. It was very touching. Then I was given a tour of the school (see photographs).
My accommodation for the journey
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The school Director and myself. is at the local Catholic priory. There are three permanent priests and accommodation for visiting priests. I am in one of the rooms set aside for the visiting priests. I have my own en-suit and writing desk, it even has electricity (pretty advanced for a country village). First thing the senior priest did when I walked in was give me a beer (man after my own heart). They invited me to dinner with them and it was a very interesting experience. Although I didn’t understand a word they were saying it felt like they were talking about the different congregations they service and the people in those congregations similar to like when you get a group of teachers together and they begin to talk teaching, well it felt very much like that. It felt like they were saying things such as “I heard a good one in the confessional last week”, or “the congregation in the next village are so straight that they need to get a life”. Yet I get the feeling they love their congregations and would do whatever necessary to help them. Overall my earlier concerns were misplaced and this trip has been a very enjoyable experience.
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The School that Emmanuel commenced his teaching career at. Tomorrow I go to church (7:00am apparently) then I go and meet the family.
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