First impressions
So, it is now a month to the day since I took the train back to the Isle of Wight from London, having been at a wedding in the Tower of London followed by a champagne cruise down the Thames. I now sit here in Rwanda, night having fallen over my house in rural Gikongoro, gently blurring the outlines of the hills that surround me. Rwanda is also known as “land of a 1000 hills”, each one seeming to be carefully combed and parted into well-groomed terrassed sections. Rwanda also has the highest population density in all Africa meaning every scrap of land is cultivated as far as possible to yield as much as possible. You are never far from anyone here and eyes are always fixed upon you.
Two worlds. The wedding was courtesy of Helen, a friend from my Tanzania days. It nearly exactly coincided with the 5 year anniversary of my tearful departure at the hovercraft, on my first venture into Africa. Now I was doing it all over again. But the wedding was just one assurance that great friendships would be formed, that great experiences were to be had and that I would be doing a lot of learning once again. And that my family, my relatives, people from Ryde, my friends from the Island, and those from Uni, and those from Tanzania were all behind me once again and showed me such huge amounts of support.
I’m not wishing to wax lyrical, so I’ll get on with it!
Arrival
Landing in Rwanda a few things struck me. Firstly – without wishing to get too political – how incredible it is that whilst Tesco spews out plastic bags to go round thrice-wrapped packets of biscuits, and Bush claims to doubt the existence of global warming, I could not enter the terminal building without stripping my world map of its plastic tubing; “We are a small country and we do not need such things to choke our country. All plastic bags must be left here before you can enter Rwanda”. Wow. Just inside the terminal entrance was a stash of plastic bags, collected from those entering the country by plane. Several weeks later, these stop-searches would start up by the borders to Uganda and Tanzania, with large swathes of plastic bags being dumped inside the other territory. Rwanda wouldn't have them, but Uganda and Tanzania weren't about to clear them up either.
We were also given a hero’s welcome by the VSO staff, who seemed almost to outnumber us though there were 17 of us (and we were only just becoming aware of how many we were as casual conversations started up around Heathrow, Nairobi and Kigali terminals).
In-country training ensued...
Here we were given practical advice on opening bank accounts, work related issues, cultural differences (pointing with lips being de rigeur apparently) and workshops on gender, HIV and education issues.
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