So, Mr Friendly at the Post Office has a name. Vincent. I know this because he always plays centre back on a Wednesday and always wears orange shorts – he makes my life easy by doing this. Many of the others enjoy seeing me squirm as I try to remember whether they’re Innocent, or Alphonse, or Benedict or Olivier or Muhire. It’s actually better to guess that his name is Jean. If you need to hasard a guess, and you’re in a slightly awkward social moment – just go for “This is Jean, ahem’ (cough cough, tickle in the throat, choke slightly, gesture for them to repeat their own name to your friend as you gag- as soon as it is repeated find that the frog in your throat has mysetriously hopped on its way) There are many Jeans (this is a Catholic, ex-French and Belgian nation after all) – Jean Marie, Jean Baptiste, Jean de Dieu, Jean Jean... I hate the question “have you forgotten my name?’ Well of course I bloody well have! I’ve met you once, and I meet 40 people a day!
Anyway, Vincent is lovely. Vincent is my bringer of good news. The most exciting thing that happened to me two weeks ago was receiving my first ever letter. Here you buy a postal box at the local post office and a lock to loop through the metal catches so you can check it at will. For the first couple of weeks I didn’t dare even try to see if my shiny key turned ok in my brand spanking new padlock because I was sure I’d disappoint myself in the process. Opening up your box and seeing its naked inside can be quite a tragic and humbling experience. Not so two weeks ago when cheeky Vincent with a gleam in his eye notifies me at football that I have a certain letter, airmail, from a male friend; “Maggie, his name is John, I see on the outside!’. John Smallwood – you may have inadvertently created a mini scandal out here in Rwanda without even knowing it! I tried to assure him it was a family friend but the gleam in the eye didn’t fade.
Even though John’s letter must have caught good winds and arrive after just 8 days, two days later I received two birthday cards (only 5 weeks late) and a Guardian weekly newspaper dated from a month previously. But that is fine – I managed to catch up on all the controversial news surrounding the pope’s inflammatory comments. In about three months I might mention the mid-term American elections...