we love akagera!

driving barefoot

driving through the mud

laughing out loud several times a day

sleeping in a tent

food that tastes of fire

spilling a pot of boiling coffee water and swearing out loud

swatting tse tse flies whilst driving through offroad terrain

puncturing tyres

lazying in the hammock

staring at the landscape for hours on end

snoring

being stared at by animals

making hamburgers

starting the day with a state of the art cappuccino

having transcendental conversations

having meaningless conversations

daydreaming

remembering

forgetting

fantasizing

not showering for 3 days

then finally showering and loving it

'is yours wet?'

making stick bread for the first time in almost 20 years

ice cold beer for lunch in the savannah

out of africa

participating in a secret car contest

winning the contest

losing the contest

flying high

delving deep

enjoying a perfect moment

enjoying the silence and the darkness

feeling the love

ever had a racing car for breakfast?

so - life in the expat community is blissful most days, particularly when you can rent a house on lake kivu with a private jetty and the most amazing views onto the nyiragongo volcano. and of course for the perfect weekend one needs to do a perfect shop - there's nothing worse than running after basics in a town which has very limited amenities - and let's face it - we are a spoilt bunch what with nakumatt down the road and all. so we went shopping before setting off. amongst other things we bought a jar of honey. still not quite past my student attitude of always buying the cheapest brand that still looks attractive I chose the honey for 2,000 francs - why do we need a tub at twice the price? we won't know the difference...

the next morning I was making coffee and just re-arranging the purchases in the kitchen as I noticed the price tag on the honey jar - it said: 'racing car' - 10,500 FRW. it of course reminded me of the days when we'd weigh a box of pencils, print out the equivalent of its weight as aubergines and then had a mighty giggle when the person at the check-out didn't notice the difference. and I thought - ha - who would be so stupid as to not detect such a mistake? well, we were. I found the receipt two minutes later and believe it or not we'd purchased a jar of cheap honey at the price of a racing car.... well - so much for wanting to save money.

not only the humans were having a blissful time!

and because expat life is not just about bliss, but involves cars also I will tell you the story of my other 'racing car', a.k.a. the cherry red joyride, bertinchen. she's been suffering from ignition problems; which for me have become common currency to the point where I never park my car nose uphill, nor will I take her inside any compounds where it will be hard to push her should she decide not to ignite. I am by now an expert in bumpstarting and more.

anyway - before going to kibuye I had the ninja look her over and he told me there was a problem with a part in the ignition mechanism but that the guy who had the corresponding part wanted too much money for it, so he'd found a makeshift solution. basically, there were problems in maintaining the electrical circuit for starting the car - so whenever that problem would ocurr, I would have to stick my left hand under the dashboard and move the cables around until I'd get a contact. we dubbed it 'mcgyvering the car' - it worked just fine once I figured out which cable it was. and so I've been getting used to this new system over the last two weeks. towards the end of last week it started getting more and more tricky - i.e. finding the right position for the cable to establish contact was becoming increasingly complicated.

on saturday night I was en route to a friend's house and stopped at the shop - after that I could barely find the contact; I ended up driving down the hill with one hand stuck under the dashboard, peering out through the steering wheel - but of course your hand is never steady enough whilst driving a bumpy little car to hold it in place - and so eventually the engine just didn't have electricity anymore and died. I was stranded. bugger.

I called the ninja, who came straight away and realised immediately (with a little help from his nokia-torch) that one of the cables was broken and it was thus impossible to establish a circuit. 'we have to cut the cables' was his verdict. right. I was totally expecting him to take the car with him. instead he started rummaging under the passenger seat of my car and extracted a machete - he'd forgotten it last time he'd repaired the car - and I have obviously been driving around with a machete for the last 2 weeks - unknowingly. anyway - he starts chopping away at the cables whilst I'm holding the flashlight and watch the whole process with hightening suspicion. but then again - you have to trust - this is africa, this is ninja - things work out, sometimes in very strange ways, but they do.

to cut a long story short - 10 minutes later I had learnt how to hotwire a car. and henceforth this was going to be my new ignition until the old one was repaired. so there I was, feeling a little bit like the african version of gone in 60 seconds, of course it took 20 minutes more like. and honestly, who hasn't wanted to steal a car before? be honest! well - I've stolen mine. and if it wasn't for the engine not ticking over fast enough and the backfiring I would probably be driving around like this for a while to come.... and do I need to mention that I love it?

45 lessons of life

1. Life isn't fair, but it's still good.
2. When in doubt, just take the next small step.
3. Life is too short to waste time hating anyone.
4. Don't take yourself so seriously. No one else does.
5. Pay off your credit cards every month.
6. You don't have to win every argument. Agree to disagree.
7. Cry with someone. It's more healing than crying alone.
8. It's OK to get angry with God. He can take it.
9. Save for retirement starting with your first paycheck.
10. When it comes to chocolate, resistance is futile.
11. Make peace with your past so it won't screw up the present.
12. It's OK to let your children see you cry.
13. Don't compare your life to others'. You have no idea what their journey is all about.
14. If a relationship has to be a secret, you shouldn't be in it.
15. Everything can change in the blink of an eye. But don't worry; God never blinks.
16. You can get through anything if you stay put in today.
17. It's never too late to have a happy childhood. But the second one is up to you and no one else.
18. When it comes to going after what you love in life, don't take no for an answer.
19. Burn the candles, use the nice sheets, wear the fancy lingerie. Don't save it for a special occasion. Today is special.
20. Overprepare, then go with the flow.
21. Be eccentric now. Don't wait for old age to wear purple.
22. The most important sex organ is the brain.
23. No one is in charge of your happiness except you.
24. Frame every so-called disaster with these words: "In five years, will this matter?"
25. Always choose life.
26. Forgive everyone everything.
27. What other people think of you is none of your business.
28. Time heals almost everything. Give time time.
29. However good or bad a situation is, it will change.
30. Your job won't take care of you when you are sick. Your friends will. Stay in touch.
31. Believe in miracles.
32. God loves you because of who God is, not because of anything you did or didn't do.
33. Whatever doesn't kill you really does make you stronger.
34. Growing old beats the alternative - dying young.
35. Your children get only one childhood. Make it memorable.
36. Get outside every day. Miracles are waiting everywhere.
37. If we all threw our problems in a pile and saw everyone else's, we'd grab ours back.
38. Don't audit life. Show up and make the most of it now.
39. Get rid of anything that isn't useful, beautiful or joyful.
40. All that truly matters in the end is that you loved.
41. The best is yet to come.
42. No matter how you feel, get up, dress up and show up.
43. Take a deep breath. It calms the mind.
44. Yield.
45. Life isn't tied with a bow, but it's still a gift.

author: regina brett

what's with the juju?

I'm exhausted, and I don't even have the energy to get into a detailed description of the events that followed on each other's heels in the past week... it has been rather unbelievable:

• my dog gets hit by a moto whilst running out on the street; apart from a couple of scrapes she's fine. if anyone has a patent way of teaching a dog 'stop, look, listen, then walk' please let me know.
• it rains really hard and as a result my pillows are soaked... mmmh!
• my friend's credit cards stop working for no good reason which means I don't get my saturday morning banana pancakes - poooh!
• my computer stops working, completely. just as I'm about to go on a skype conference marathon. luckily my friend saves me by lending me her computer and connection and making me coffee; my other friend fixes my computer and brings a big box of cakes to sweeten up the day.
• we go to the beerfest and sing country roads on the way home in the car; the only thing that's missing from our lives is a guitar.
• I wake up with a hangover (ok - kind of my fault, really)
• because the credit cards stopped working my friend has a moto accident - he's fine, thank god!
• we take the dogs for a walk and they kill 3 chickens in the process which means negotiating with the whole neighbourhood and paying the owner of the chickens a bit too much for want of more patience. (patience again! arrgh...)
• monday morning greets me with a migraine the size of france which won't go away all day.
• tuesday morning greets me with a clear head, high spirits and the conviction that this is a new week and shit will stop happening now.
• I walk to work and nearly get hit by a falling tree - clearly it ain't over 'til it's over.
• I have fantastic friends who are there for me every step of the way and who make even the most surreal and scary situations bearable. thank you guys - you know who you are!

besides all the crap that's happened we still had loads of fun and won't stop having it - life's too short to focus on the trees that fall in your way....

solitude

drinking tea on the terrace, admiring the landscape
not taking off my pyjamas for half a day
not wearing make up
having tousled hair
not checking the time
not wearing a bra
soaking up the sun

reading for hours on end

writing down anything and everything

making coffee after having had tea
talking to my dog
swimming in the lake
eating whenever I fancied

watching the sunset
staring at an undefined point in the distance and letting thoughts glide across my mind like clouds in the sky
going to bed early
waking up early
having no plans at all
not talking to anyone
thinking about and missing dear people
making plans for the future
daydreaming
enjoying the rain

gorillas are protected animals!

the dream team - before

finally, after weeks of planning, or rather thinking about it, we set off last weekend to climb the karisimbi. it’s the highest mountain in Rwanda, and a volcano. 4,507 metres above sea level. from the initial 10 people interested in going it ended up being just my neighbour, my housemate and I. we left kigali on friday afternoon in a samurai with two backpacks, a paraglider, two tents, day packs and a bag full of food. naturally the space was cramped, but it’s cosier that way, right?

we arrived in ruhengeri just after sunset only to discover that they had not noted my reservation… which ended up being a bonus as they gave us one of their double rooms for the price of the dorm, plus one bed in the dorm. we had dinner – a rather desolate buffet – and a couple of beers to toast to linn’s 30th. by 9pm we were curled up in bed thinking that we had to get up before six to be at the tourist office by 7am. turned out we didn’t have to be there before 9 – customer service and the giving of accurate information is not the strong point of the tourism industry here.

after coffee and breakfast we went over to the tourist office to register, meet our fellow hikers and our guide for the two day trip. there were about 10 of us – some in shoes that made my feet hurt just thinking about the walk ahead of us. and I seriously doubted they were going to make it; funnily enough one of those people ran up that mountain like it was a walk along the beach. sometimes you simply can’t trust first impressions :-)

we got in the car to drive to the point of departure. it was a beautiful morning, the sun was shining, we could see the volcanoes around and we were in good spirits. with U2 playing on the stereo we happily bumped along the road towards the entrance of the national park when suddenly the music stopped, then came back, stopped again. and then suddenly there was this smell of burnt plastic in the car and seconds afterwards smoke started steaming out of the ventilation on the passenger side. we immediately stopped the car, worried that it had all gone to pieces. on inspection we discovered that what had burnt was a bunch of cables clearly feeding the radio… bugger. no more music. oh well – at least the car was still running. so we carried on, without music this time.

the summit - seen from base camp

and once the car was parked and the porters hired – everyone speculating what the heck these mzungus were bringing in this ginormous backpack (the paraglider) – we started walking. the walk took us through fields and then into the national park, through forest, swampy meadows, past waterfalls and back into a different kind of forest; all the while the sun was shining and the spirits were high. after about 4 hours we arrived at the base camp; at 3,600 metres. there was a little shelter there and we had just stepped foot into it when it started raining. after a little rest and some food we set up our tents and then proceeded to make coffee on the fire. I am not normally a nescafe person, but hell, this cup tasted sooooo good! for dinner we made noodle soup to the great envy of everyone else. and since we had planned to start walking at 4am the next morning to arrive at the summit early enough for urs to attempt to fly down we crawled into bed by about 7.30 that night. sleeping in altitude is not easy, add to that the constant babble of the porters sat round the fire only a few metres from our tent and the incessant, offensive snoring of the polish guy at the other end of the camp – I didn’t sleep much at all. at 2am I surfaced feeling starved, so I ate a mars bar and turned round again, to no avail. by about 3am I decided it was better to get up and make some coffee to warm up before the ascent.

sunrise half way up the mountain

sitting by the fire at 3am waiting for the water to boil listening to the murmured conversations of the porters who were baking spuds in the embers and staring at the starriest sky I had seen in years was magical. again, the coffee tasted divine and I thoroughly enjoyed this last hour before the march, just sitting under the canopy of stars, knowing that what was ahead was going to be hard work and yet excited about it.

at 4 our small group, linn, urs, olivier and pascale, the porter for the glider and a couple of other porters, an armed guard and myself trudged off into the pitch black, our steps illuminated by our torches only. the terrain was steep and quickly turned into a challenge, climbing over tree trunks and roots, over rocks and mud, up, up, up. and yet, the fact that it was pitch black made it easier. you had to concentrate so hard on where you were stepping that you barely had time to think about how far you’d gone, and how much farther you had to go. about half way up the summit the light started creeping in over the horizon and we saw a beautiful sunrise over the bisoke, gahembe and sabyniyo (the chain of volcanoes of the virungas). the poor porter carrying the glider kept having to stop because the load was getting heavy in these altitudes. and all the while he must have wondered what the hell it was he had to carry up the mountain. most people thought it was a party tent. eventually we broke through the tree line and from there it was mossy with only some shrubbery and a cold wind started blowing over the sides of the mountain and we were walking in the clouds. eventually even the moss and shrubs stayed behind us and the terrain turned rocky, in some places we could even see snow – the first snow I’ve seen in almost 2 years… and then we reached the summit.

less than 100 metres from the summit

I met linn up there and she said that the weather wasn’t good enough for urs to fly. I felt sorry – both for him and for his porter. imagine heaving the shoot up there and then having to carry it back down… the summit was nothing special; some half finished radio station with masts and satellite dishes and heaps of rubbish crowned it, and because of the abysmal weather we couldn’t see a thing. the wind was of the icy all-penetrating kind and after a couple of swigs of water and some cake mixed with peanut butter we packed up again and started the descent. urs decided to try the flank of the mountain, a bit further down to see whether the wind would be less strong and permit a jump. so he took his porter and headed off in a different direction. we were walking down and just talking about him, hoping he could jump off, when we suddenly saw him fly out from behind the mountain. the porters were dumbstruck, quite possibly never having seen anyone paragliding off the karisimbi, or any other Rwandan mountain for that matter. we all watched in awe, took pictures and celebrated. the porters kept running down the mountain to the next opening in the trees to follow his flight with their eyes. once the guy who’d carried the shoot joined our group again they didn’t stop talking about it, excitedly.

the porter with the problem :-)

urs - flying. (the little speck in the clouds)

on the way down we met the rest of the group still climbing up. many of them looked exhausted, from the terrain, from the altitude. the added bonus of having walked up in the pitch black was that now we actually got to see where we’d walked past before – it was beautiful.

once back at the camp we had a warm breakfast – weetabix and muesli with warm milk and fruits, relaxed a bit, packed our stuff up and then by the time the others came back we were ready to climb down the rest of the way. I have never been a fan of walking down and even though the second half wasn’t so bad it still exhausted me. walking down is a mental challenge for me – it makes me incredibly grumpy. on the one had I find it infinitely more exhausting for the legs, and on the other hand it is hard because there simply isn’t anything to be gained from walking down. no summit to be reached, no achievement to be done. and the thought of a shower isn’t enough to motivate me. on top of that my knee started hurting really badly and turned every step into agony. the last two hours were by far the worst of the entire hike. on top of that it had started chucking it down with rain about half way and I was soaked to the bone, dragging my feet through the mud, getting heavier by the minute. luckily my shoes held tight and at least I didn’t have wet feet.

when we finally climbed the wall and exited the national park I was close to tears from pain and exhaustion. and we still had to walk back through the fields and the village to get to the cars. not only was I tired and cranky, but now there were also the kids saying good morning at 4pm and asking for money. at one point I walked past this group of kids lying by the wayside offering me to buy a gorilla for 500. at this point it is worth noting that where we’d hiked is where dian fossey was living with the gorillas; we almost walked past her house and grave. I turned round, gave them a stern look and said: ‘gorillas are protected animals. you don’t sell them!’ honestly thinking they were trying to sell me a live gorilla for 500 bucks. it was only then that I saw that they had little drawings of gorillas which they were trying to sell for 500 amafaranga…

the dream team - after.

about rain

I still remember when I announced to my friends that I was moving to england for at least 3 years. their reaction was overwhelmingly: 'why england? it rains there all the time!'
the first month I was there the sun never stopped shining and overall it wasn't half as bad as anticipated. no worse than other parts of northern europe.
having said that, it is also true that when it rains in england, it sometimes doesn't stop for weeks on end, a continuous curtain of water dribbling from the heavens to the earth - and that really does get on your nerves a lot. (although it also has the nice side effect that the island is one of the lushest I've ever seen!) everything is damp and cold, your clothes take a week to dry properly after washing them, it's humid and often there's wind which makes the damp permeate your clothes, umbrellas are useless because they get gushed about by the wind. in short - there are times where you wish it would never rain again.

now the tables have turned. the climate in kigali is that of eternal european spring/summertime, never too hot, never too cold; light at 10 past six in the morning, dark at 10 past six in the evening - every day of the year. no seasonal change, just dry and rainy seasons. in my first year this meant there is the long rainy season which begins I think in february and lasts until may or june. then the long dry season which goes from may-ish to september-ish, followed by a short rainy season which goes up to november-ish and then dry again for a couple of months. however, the first year I was here rainy season meant a couple of hours of rain a day, and then usually dry for the rest of the day. very rarely was there what I have come to call an 'english day' - i.e. rain falling lightly but constantly all day long. during the dry season it would still sometimes rain - not every day, but still.

now - the rains stopped sometime in may and since then I can remember exactly 3 times that it rained. and only once was there one of those alleviating showers that wash the dust out of the air and off the plants, that cool down the air and leave you feeling fresh and energised; kind of like eating a slice of cold watermelon on a hot summer day. the other times it was little showers that stopped before they could do much.
it is also hot these days; not unlike british summer - but also close. it's a heavy heat that presses down on you, that makes you sweat even though you're sitting in a darkened office without moving, it's the kind of heat that curbs your appetite and weighs down your spirits. it won't let you sleep at night because it is everywhere, pressing in around you and weighing you down. in short, the kind of heat that makes you yearn for rain. and the most evil part of the day is when the clouds start doing the rain dance. they gather in the sky, the wind starts blowing and you can smell an edge of rain on its outskirts, there's that chilly edge to it which you welcome and cherish despite all the dust that comes with it. it makes you look up to the skies and assess the cloud colour, density and formation - and every day I think, today it will fall, today we will get respite. and a couple of hours later the clouds have dissolved and the heat is once again pressing in on you. and this, believe it or not, is when you actually wish you could go back to england for a couple of weeks and get a rest, enjoy the rain gushing on the windowpanes, the soil soaking up the water and turning it into green canopies and fields.

it should have started raining by now; the rains are late. people say it won't rain until october. in kenya they're expecting a drought until november. I think some people call it global warming, or climate change, or something. think about it.