I just got back from a bloody good time with fellow fellow, Laura Gordon (she is working for Survivor Corps in Burundi, focusing primarily on gender-based violence). We met up on Friday in Butare (a small town housing the National University of Rwanda and the National Museum of Rwanda, about 2 hours south of Kigali).
The people I live with were kind enough to lend me their camping equipment as we planned to spend Friday night in the Nyungwe National Forest. Not so fast muzungus. The last bus for Nyungwe left at 8:30am on Friday morning. Change of plans for the fellows.
We dropped our stuff at Motel Gracias (no running water but only 8 bucks each) and headed off for a quick visit to the National Museum. The Museum was quite interesting and gave us an overview of Rwanda’s history, including hair styles, dress - Laura was a bit miffed at what the curators categorized as loin cloths - forms of housing, and hunting methods.
Before dinner, we met up with a former ENOUGH intern, Jackie, who is living in Butare for the summer doing some interesting research on reconciliation at the National University. She was heading off to an overnight memorial service the next day and was kind enough to offer up her apartment to us for the following evening. We dropped our camping stuff off in her room and planned to get the key from one of her friends when we returned from the forest the following day.
The three of us sat down to dine at the classy Hotel Ibis and gained some additional company. Aliza, a PhD student at the University Wisconsin doing research in Rwanda for the summer, introduced herself and joined us for dinner. We swapped muzungu stories and traveling tips over brochettes and Primus.
The following morning, Laura and I woke up early to catch the first and only bus to Nyungwe National Park. We were not sure how we’d get back as we were told our best bet was to stand by the side of the road and hope some poor soul picked us up, but we took our chances and boarded the bus. The bus from hell.
We were the last two to board, so Laura got stuck sitting in between two seats with a pole digging into her back and a man hitting on her until he got too car sick to continue. I got placed in between a woman with two children - one squeezed in between bags on the floor and one breast feeding on her lap - and a man who refused to allow me to put both of my feet on the floor as it would have forced him to give up a small amount of his space. As the bus pulled away, the man collecting the money also squeezed into our row, pushing my arm against the woman’s breast which she proceeded to leave there for the duration of our two hour ride.
About an hour into the journey - which, by the way, was full of gorgeous rolling hills which I could not in any way appreciate - the bus pulled over to the side of the road. Instead of letting people out, they shoved another woman into our row. Glorious.
An hour of pins and needles later, Laura and I were dropped on the side of the road in the middle of a beautiful park filled with monkeys, chimps, birds, and incredible wildlife. During a three hour hike, our guide, Richard, told us about the different trees - some were used to build the roof of the king’s house, others are used by the chimps who hit them to alert fellow chimps of their arrival, and some are used in traditional medicine to relieve cancer patients or induce abortion. We also saw monkeys, tons of birds, and some frogs. The views were absolutely breathtaking.
Luckily, when we returned to camp, we found muzungus with a car, and they were kind enough to give us a lift back to Butare, rescuing us from another treacherous bus ride. Back in town, I gave David - the person holding the key to Jackie’s room, containing the camping equipment lent to me by the people with whom I live - a call. “Number not in service.” Grrreat. No answer on Jackie’s end either.
Laura and I had the brilliant idea to ask the managers of Jackie’s room to let us in, just to get our stuff. That idea didn’t go over so well. After demanding evidence to prove that we knew Jackie and much back and forth, we agreed to rent a room from them, and they agreed to “look for” the key to Jackie’s room. About an hour later, Jackie and David called. A few panic attacks later, we retrieved our camping equipment and headed out to a delicious dinner at “The Chinese Restaurant.” As we were drifting into a Primus-induced slumber in our extra sketchy room, we heard a loud rapping on our door. The manager had located the key that we no longer needed. Thanks for scaring the crap out of me.
Overall, a weekend with some excitement, a bit of frustration, new friends, beautiful scenery, and a great time. More photos here.
