Day 20 A mass exodus to Ntendezi and the children’s village left the coast clear for me to crack on with – and hopefully complete – my Education report. For three and a half hours I sat solidly typing, stopping only for a cup of coffee and two of my chocolate eggs. Ecstasy. I’m not sure if the unadulterated pleasure of that was what spurred me on to complete my report, but by lunchtime I was done! Hooray indeed.
Lots of mini successes at Ntendezi meant a merry band all round. 
They took a prototype floor cushion with them that Liz had knocked up to check on size and suitability. It looked fab. In fact, Fidele, one of the disabled children who will live in the village, was there for a test drive. He was thrilled with it.It’s the final day of Memorial Week and a full day public holiday. We’d forgotten this vital snippet and had absolutely no food for supper. We were forced to go out and re-sample the famous pork restaurant - but not before yet another altercation with the Mothers’ Union chief. This time she came here, but her curtain “plans” were just as dire and with exasperation paramount we agreed to ‘conclude’ tomorrow. The cold beer at the pork restaurant was just exactly what we needed.
Day 21 This morning was dominated by drawing plans of every possible window type, marking every hem length, tie-back distance and loop width. Every millimetre of required cloth was calculated by Martyn and mock up models of the curtain loop attachment system was made by me. A spread sheet showed a thousand different measurements and calculations and the whole explanatory mass was loaded into an envelope to deliver to the wretched Mothers’ Union. If that doesn’t make the whole damn thing clear…..
The others had gone on a trip to visit ‘the rabbit parish’. Some time ago when other parishes had chosen to spend a little money on pigs or cows, the pastor of Kansu parish had opted for rabbits as he could get more for the money – and they breed fast! The results have been extraordinary and various families have literally become self sufficient on the strength of the rabbits. They are sold for breeding and eating and because of their mega-multiplying power pay for themselves remarkably quickly.
On their return from Kansu, Liz and I went down into town on another important shopping mission. We needed to buy fourteen lengths of the madly bright materials for the rest of the forty six cushions we’d got planned, plus source some lining fabric for the inners. What a successful time we had! We were certainly Mrs. Populars in the fabric section of the market and had women literally forcing designs on and at us in a bid for us to select theirs over someone else’s. At one point I began to wonder if there might be a punch up. We didn’t peak on success in the bargaining department but did, finally, get a small reduction after pointing out, at least a hundred times, that we were buying vast quantities. As all this was conducted in our embarrassingly poor French, I suppose we should be glad we hadn’t somehow upped the price. After a remarkably short search we found some suitable lining material and the guy there was so quick to agree to our reduction that we guessed we must have underestimated the opportunity. Still, never mind, we were happy with our price.
Martyn, David and Emma had a very important meeting whilst we were buying up the market: they had to visit the Bishop, who is No. 1 most important in the wielding of power regarding so many things that the charity wants, and needs, to do. Unfortunately he doesn’t always see things in the same way as we do and obstruction isn’t too uncommon. They returned to Munezero House and the air had a hint of blue about it. A number of glasses of wine were fairly swiftly poured…..
The evening was tinged with sadness as it was ‘the Last Supper’ altogether as Henry and Aaron were off to Kigali in the morning to spend a night there before Henry flies on Thursday lunchtime. Mind you, it wasn’t all sad because as Henry was packing, he found a slab of Cadbury’s Dairy Milk that he’d ‘forgotten’ about!!! What a treat for pudding.
Day 21 This morning was dominated by drawing plans of every possible window type, marking every hem length, tie-back distance and loop width. Every millimetre of required cloth was calculated by Martyn and mock up models of the curtain loop attachment system was made by me. A spread sheet showed a thousand different measurements and calculations and the whole explanatory mass was loaded into an envelope to deliver to the wretched Mothers’ Union. If that doesn’t make the whole damn thing clear…..The others had gone on a trip to visit ‘the rabbit parish’. Some time ago when other parishes had chosen to spend a little money on pigs or cows, the pastor of Kansu parish had opted for rabbits as he could get more for the money – and they breed fast! The results have been extraordinary and various families have literally become self sufficient on the strength of the rabbits. They are sold for breeding and eating and because of their mega-multiplying power pay for themselves remarkably quickly.
On their return from Kansu, Liz and I went down into town on another important shopping mission. We needed to buy fourteen lengths of the madly bright materials for the rest of the forty six cushions we’d got planned, plus source some lining fabric for the inners. What a successful time we had! We were certainly Mrs. Populars in the fabric section of the market and had women literally forcing designs on and at us in a bid for us to select theirs over someone else’s. At one point I began to wonder if there might be a punch up. We didn’t peak on success in the bargaining department but did, finally, get a small reduction after pointing out, at least a hundred times, that we were buying vast quantities. As all this was conducted in our embarrassingly poor French, I suppose we should be glad we hadn’t somehow upped the price. After a remarkably short search we found some suitable lining material and the guy there was so quick to agree to our reduction that we guessed we must have underestimated the opportunity. Still, never mind, we were happy with our price.Martyn, David and Emma had a very important meeting whilst we were buying up the market: they had to visit the Bishop, who is No. 1 most important in the wielding of power regarding so many things that the charity wants, and needs, to do. Unfortunately he doesn’t always see things in the same way as we do and obstruction isn’t too uncommon. They returned to Munezero House and the air had a hint of blue about it. A number of glasses of wine were fairly swiftly poured…..
The evening was tinged with sadness as it was ‘the Last Supper’ altogether as Henry and Aaron were off to Kigali in the morning to spend a night there before Henry flies on Thursday lunchtime. Mind you, it wasn’t all sad because as Henry was packing, he found a slab of Cadbury’s Dairy Milk that he’d ‘forgotten’ about!!! What a treat for pudding. 
Day 22 We knew today was going to be manic - but it was on a scale we’d way, way underestimated!! It was totally crazy. David, Martyn and Emma had a meeting with Rwanda Revenue, then the Mayor for starters. Liz and I had forty six floor cushions covers to cut out, plus sixteen liners. We also had to hand-sew at least one large and one small cushion as patterns (we’re dealing with Mother’s Union again…) and sort all into some kind of foolproof system so they don’t mix the various sections up. Along the way, Alphonsine and her friend arrived with almost nine hundred Christmas cards that had to be checked for quality and counted, a girl arrived with armloads of craft necklaces and bracelets for checking and three people appeared with sad stories requesting some sort of sponsorship. Poor Prince was pulled in at least two thousand different directions as different parties needed translation – both ways - sympathy and understanding, and explanation. He’s such a marvel as he continues to smile and stay totally calm in the face of all possible provocation.In the afternoon we had a final (!) visit to Mother’s Union, a dash to buy slightly more cushion material, a race to cut the last cushions out, and packing all round. We’d been invited out to supper which seemed like a wish too far, especially when the basket-making lady arrived with a large order as we were just leaving for Obadias and supper, already an hour late. Oh yes, and after having been remarkably lucky for the whole trip with only momentary blips without water, the entire water system went off good and proper without even a drip from any tap. All plans for a final spruce up shower were thwarted, as were the hopes of removing even the surface mud from our feet and lower legs after the soggy market trip.
In the end, supper away from the madhouse was a perfect escape and after a fantastic spread and a lovely time wishing Obadias’s now ten year old daughter, a happy birthday, we 
returned home for the final countdown. Early start tomorrow for Kigali, so many ends needed tying.
Day 23 I was awake before the five o’clock alarm checking the water with a vain hope. Nothing. However, when Martyn woke at five he heard a faint drip, drip and went to check: it had come on! How lucky was that? Mind you, I confess to settling for a wash only, even so as there was no hope of anything approaching hot water – but some of the other brave souls went for it, including Martyn.
By six thirty the truck was packed and a tarpaulin covered the luggage in the back. I had realised that we’d lost a padlock for one of the cases and asked Patrick, our driver, whether we’d be able to pick one up in Kigali before the airport. He said, ‘But we can get one here’! He asked me for 500 francs (about 60p) and sent Cyriac, the day guard, off to get me one! Cyriac duly returned with a small padlock in about five minutes flat. Martyn then remembered we needed a little more credit on the phone so off went Cyriac again, returning this time in about thirty seconds with the necessary card strip for the extra credit. Remember it’s six thirty in the morning and not long light!
At seven o’clock the moment came to say farewell to all our, by now really good friends, at the house. Quite an emotional wrench. A great deal of hugging took place as we all thanked and said goodbye to Cyriac and Faustin, the day and night guards, plus the wonderful Prince, manager extraordinaire. At least Patrick was coming with us so the finality wasn’t totally extreme just then.
We bounced along the now familiar pot-holed road to the forest waving to familiar sights, especially Ntendezi, the village for disabled children. Martyn is rather disappointed that he isn’t staying a couple of weeks longer to see the building complete. I, on the other hand, am secretly quite relieved that we are not to be there for the unveiling of the dreaded curtains!
Once in the forest we kept our eyes peeled for the colobus monkeys. Patrick made a wild prediction that we should see ten – and amazingly, we almost did. We saw nine, mostly in the distance along the road, disappearing into the undergrowth as we got close. But one courageous beast, all alone on the roadside, sat still until we were alongside, then made a leap onto the car. If Martyn hadn’t been pretty swift in closing up the window we’d have had an extra passenger. It was so curious and climbed all over the car, giving fabulous photo opportunities. David managed a magnificent full face portrait – must get a copy – as the monkey leered into the back window.
The strangest sensation was as we got to Butare, a town about half way to Kigali, to stop for a snack. Three and a half weeks earlier we’d stopped at the same ‘hotel’ on the way down to Kamembe from the airport. At that time we’d looked around at the dusty roads and simple shop fronts and had agreed that we were really getting out into the sticks, away from any sort of ‘civilisation’. On this return journey we almost stopped in our tracks as we gasped at the posh development of it all! It truly seemed like another – positively luxurious – world from that where we’d spent the bulk of our time in Rwanda. Proof positive that one quickly adjusts to one’s immediate environment!
We reached Kigali in plenty of time and whilst poor David and Emma continued in work mode with a visit to the Minister of Education, Liz, Martyn and I took the opportunity to go and see the Genocide Memorial Museum. Equally as sobering I suspect, but in an entirely different way. I can only say what a truly magnificent memorial to the appalling tragedy of the Genocide. A sense of peace prevailed from the moment of entry and the whole exhibition, both inside and out was so beautifully and sensitively presented. It was informative, descriptive and harrowing, but never gratuitous at all. We were all moved and shaken, yet far better informed as we departed.
Day 23 I was awake before the five o’clock alarm checking the water with a vain hope. Nothing. However, when Martyn woke at five he heard a faint drip, drip and went to check: it had come on! How lucky was that? Mind you, I confess to settling for a wash only, even so as there was no hope of anything approaching hot water – but some of the other brave souls went for it, including Martyn.
By six thirty the truck was packed and a tarpaulin covered the luggage in the back. I had realised that we’d lost a padlock for one of the cases and asked Patrick, our driver, whether we’d be able to pick one up in Kigali before the airport. He said, ‘But we can get one here’! He asked me for 500 francs (about 60p) and sent Cyriac, the day guard, off to get me one! Cyriac duly returned with a small padlock in about five minutes flat. Martyn then remembered we needed a little more credit on the phone so off went Cyriac again, returning this time in about thirty seconds with the necessary card strip for the extra credit. Remember it’s six thirty in the morning and not long light!At seven o’clock the moment came to say farewell to all our, by now really good friends, at the house. Quite an emotional wrench. A great deal of hugging took place as we all thanked and said goodbye to Cyriac and Faustin, the day and night guards, plus the wonderful Prince, manager extraordinaire. At least Patrick was coming with us so the finality wasn’t totally extreme just then.
We bounced along the now familiar pot-holed road to the forest waving to familiar sights, especially Ntendezi, the village for disabled children. Martyn is rather disappointed that he isn’t staying a couple of weeks longer to see the building complete. I, on the other hand, am secretly quite relieved that we are not to be there for the unveiling of the dreaded curtains!
Once in the forest we kept our eyes peeled for the colobus monkeys. Patrick made a wild prediction that we should see ten – and amazingly, we almost did. We saw nine, mostly in the distance along the road, disappearing into the undergrowth as we got close. But one courageous beast, all alone on the roadside, sat still until we were alongside, then made a leap onto the car. If Martyn hadn’t been pretty swift in closing up the window we’d have had an extra passenger. It was so curious and climbed all over the car, giving fabulous photo opportunities. David managed a magnificent full face portrait – must get a copy – as the monkey leered into the back window.The strangest sensation was as we got to Butare, a town about half way to Kigali, to stop for a snack. Three and a half weeks earlier we’d stopped at the same ‘hotel’ on the way down to Kamembe from the airport. At that time we’d looked around at the dusty roads and simple shop fronts and had agreed that we were really getting out into the sticks, away from any sort of ‘civilisation’. On this return journey we almost stopped in our tracks as we gasped at the posh development of it all! It truly seemed like another – positively luxurious – world from that where we’d spent the bulk of our time in Rwanda. Proof positive that one quickly adjusts to one’s immediate environment!
We reached Kigali in plenty of time and whilst poor David and Emma continued in work mode with a visit to the Minister of Education, Liz, Martyn and I took the opportunity to go and see the Genocide Memorial Museum. Equally as sobering I suspect, but in an entirely different way. I can only say what a truly magnificent memorial to the appalling tragedy of the Genocide. A sense of peace prevailed from the moment of entry and the whole exhibition, both inside and out was so beautifully and sensitively presented. It was informative, descriptive and harrowing, but never gratuitous at all. We were all moved and shaken, yet far better informed as we departed.
Final stop, Kigali airport. Once again we were totally blown away by the contrast with our recent ‘home’ area. The food counter was a veritable feast of variety and excitement and the coffee lounge awash with comfortable, even elegant, leather armchairs. A final sitdown as we caught up with Aaron, there to see us off, and then the final goodbyes.That was the really hard part. But forever lightened, in true Rwandan style by the echo of David’s words as he checked that Patrick had remembered his shopping list for the following day’s six hour return journey. Of course he had: ….ten bags of foam, two piglets and a 2000 litre water tank!! Only in Rwanda….
What a brilliant place. What a fabulous trip. And what a privilege to have had such an opportunity.
.JPG)
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