Gym tonic - or aerobics a l’africaine

As you have probably gathered by now, the life of an expat in Kigali evolves mainly around eating and drinking and socialising with friends for want of anything else much to do. Eventually you turn into a slug and all that local brew starts showing... what to do? Jogging is difficult enough for me for reasons of discipline; add the hills and the smog from all the filter-less diesel engines and it becomes very difficult... ;-)) there is a gym at one of the hotels but that equally requires discipline and with my lifestyle it’s hard to build it into a routine – too many spontaneous outings and things always get in the way. But something must be done – there are no horses in Rwanda, so riding is out; cycling is out for the same reasons as jogging and it would just be a bit suicidal to cycle in this traffic where most drivers can barely manage their vehicles; yoga is too slow – well and for a long time there was nothing else.

But now it’s gym tonic instead of gin and tonic; they have started aerobics classes again at the novotel; Monday to Friday with the bouncer from the posh club. So I have decided to get back into aerobics again. Today I got there for 6 which is when the class supposedly starts. I’m there early and hang out in the training room waiting for the class to begin. Other participants turn up – one of them with her ipod plugged in, already wearing the weight-lifting gloves. She decidedly moves somebody else’s towel off her favoured step and prepares her bandana which she puts on Rambo style. Then she starts working out her arms using an elastic band. Others are still talking on the phone or chatting to each other. I feel slightly alien because I’m the one not wearing fancy gym outfits, I don’t have exercise gloves or a special workout hairdo. But I’m here to work my muscles, not my image after all.

The trainer turns up about 20 minutes late and whacks on the Congolese music which will take us through the class. And we start warming up our bodies; then we get on to the exercises which involve different movements on the step – first about 32 repetitions of one movement and then the same thing but moving around the step each time. That is the first challenge to master – how to keep going and not fall out of line. Then, adding to the leg movements you move your arms – there is a lot of swinging arms in circles and rather spontaneous movements, then eventually when you start concentrating on the arms too much you lose the feet – then get back in step with the rest – then your legs get tired and you start stumbling over your own feet, arms still swinging oddly. In all of this Rambo-woman in front of me repeatedly lets out screams of happiness that – were we not in Rwanda – would suggest she’s popped some e. Maybe I have not been doing this long enough for my brain to emit endorphins that would make me scream out with joy spontaneously. Another one stops the exercises because her phone is ringing and she has to answer it – people here are generally obsessed with their phones. Then she joins back in – the phone rings at least 3 times during the session. I am not sure how people can have a phone conversation when out of breath and with loud Congolese music blaring in the background.
By the time we get to the abs and finally the stretching part of the class the shirt of the woman behind me has slipped and her bra is more or less exposed; she either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care. Another one left prematurely – the rest of us fight our way through a torturous abdominal workout. This time the music is ‘oldies’ – some lionel Richie and the likes – ghosh I felt old at this expression. The funny thing was the chillout music actually came from a tape – yes, a music cassette! I hadn’t seen one of those in use for years now... and tomorrow I will be in pain ;-)) ENERGY!