Kibuye & Cat Emergency!

Hotel Bethanie

Hurrah for the end of a long week! :)

Tuesday night was nice, although unfortunately my guard dropped by to announce a family member had died. I gave him the week off and his wages in advance. Hope he's okay. As much as we don't get on, you'd never wish that. But it left D and I to our own devices, and we made the most of it until he went back to the studio to sleep. He's trying to get some of his work back from them before he leaves.

That meant I got a wonderfully long night's kip, which I think I really needed. I was up early Wednesday morning as we had a Dutch Deaf visitor to welcome in the office. He's doing a tour of African countries for his organisation, to consider funding projects. That was over by about ten. I was there with my bags as we were off for our final round of research in Kibuye, another town on the shores of Lake Kivu.

Didn't leave Kigali until gone four o'clock, by Atraco bus. It was a hugely uncomfortable journey, jammed in the back with no leg room and not a straight stretch of road the whole way. I didn't get sea sick this time, but my knees were bruised when we finally arrived.

I was in a pretty grim mood - not angsty, just 'flat'. Not up for it. The cramped conditions were part of it, so were the schools emptying as we drove - a tirade of 'muzungu! muzungu! muzungu!' the entire way - I swear if I hear the 'M' word one more time... grrrrr. Added to that, I just wanted to head home and snuggle up to my new fella. I was quiet, head elsewhere, and everyone wanted to sign at me. I was in a 'blah' mood.

It was just about dark when Gerard took me by moto to this amazing, remote, luxury hotel on top of a hill overlooking the bay. The Bethanie, at 1,486m/4,875ft above sea level. I was amazed when I saw it, my jaw hung loose. Apparently my predecessor had stayed there in a cheap room for FRW 8,000 but this time they didn't have any left, only chalets for 15,000. It was dark, I was tired. After Gerard argued with the receptionist, then considered going back to town - without a moto in sight - to find other accommodation, I just waved goodnight in the car park and went and checked myself in.

It was indeed luxury: huge bed, TV and hot water. I was in heaven. I ate at the restaurant by the lakeside: chicken wings in garlic and onion sauce, with chips - wonderful - then turned in early for the night. I managed a text to D from the top of a wall in the car park, but the reception was pants. Watched an American news channel for a while, then slept for about nine hours straight.

I ate breakfast at the restaurant in the morning: omelette, bread, tea and juice, then waited for an hour in the car park for Gerard to pick me up.

Got into town and found a group of Deaf people in a local café, again right on the lakeshore, golden sand and everything. I think Kibuye is the most beautiful place I've ever seen in my life. Huge, lush-green volcanic islands in a deep blue bay, truly idyllic. I would love to go back there for a holiday.

The research was good, but I felt a bit of a hanger-on. They don't really need me there, they know what they're doing. I don't like being around when I'm in such an introvert mood. It doesn't happen very often, but I'm best left alone to get over it. I received a Christmas video from home the day before, and some things that made me a tad homesick. I was still vaguely in that headspace and didn't want to bring people down.

After that, we walked back to town. It was a very hot day, and there was me with all my bags on my back. Didn't do much for the mood. On the way, we passed a pretty church on another hilltop. As we walked by I stopped and turned to see a big stone plaque announcing it as a memorial site for 11,400 dead... 11,400. I looked at it for a long time.

When we got back to town I texted my boss. The UN had taken over the town to build a hospital, and had taken up all the cheap rooms. As I wasn't really helping much I told him that I'd be heading back to Kigali that afternoon. The others were staying on to do some more research. The reply amounted to 'no worries,' so at 2pm I boarded my ride home.

On the way, I started on the last few chapters of Emergency Sex - the book I've been raving about. The chapter I opened on was entitled: Rwanda, Kibuye. 

I blinked. It was the doctor of the story describing exhuming the mass grave at the church at Kibuye, the very one I had just walked past. Apparently it had been one of those 'run to the church' scenarios, where people were told to take refuge there and then slaughtered. Mainly women and children. It took three days. The killers started, then cut the tendons and broke the ankles of those still alive, went home, had tea with their families, drank more liquor, and came back to carry on their work the next day. Only two survivors were found. I think the full total marks all those in Kibuye.

It's very strange reading something like that, especially now knowing all of the places described. Life here is so normal. People here are so normal. You easily forget. But when you read something like that, you can't help looking up from your book and glancing around you. It's chilling. Anyone over the age of fourteen or fifteen was alive at the time. The people you sit with and talk to every day, the people in the high street, in the restaurant, on the bus. Who lost their families? Who watched their families being killed? Who fled as a refugee? Who hacked down a woman, or a child, or their next door neighbour with a machete?

The journey back was only marginally less uncomfortable than the one there. More leg room, but I got a window seat so my arm was hard-up against the bar. The guy sitting next to me made no effort to hold his own weight on the corners, so my arm now has a bruise the size of London. Nice people though, had a bit of a chat. I impressed them with my meagre rations of Kinyarwanda, and their English was good.

When I got back to town I made a beeline for a moto, but tripped over Antonia on the way. We went to Bourbon for a coffee. I wasn't really in the mood, still flatlining mentally and emotionally - not depressed, but not outgoing. I was glad I went, though. She bucked me up a bit, chatted about work. Ended up coming back to mine and we bumped into the Dutch guest and my colleague on the way. Rumours of funding for a conference on Deaf Education. It was rush hour, so I ended up getting a taxi back.

D had been looking after the cats whilst I was away. I was dying for a kiss, but he'd gone to the studio to get a couple more things done.

When I opened my gate, my jaw dropped for the second time in two days.

My yard and my house were immaculate. I was afraid to touch anything! He'd completely cleaned it out - swept, mopped, washed. I thought I was in the wrong place for a minute. What an awesome guy!

Antonia and I sat and chatted for a while, then she went to meet people at SoleLuna. I declined an offer in favour of gazing at my shiny home for a while. D said he'd be back at nine, but came back much earlier and I finally got my kiss. He says he's quit the job now. I wonder if he'll be alright. He's been working there so hard for so long, I'm not sure he'll know what else to do. He glimpsed his boss for five seconds, but never got to have another talk about money. I think they've just blown him over big time - he's much better out of there.

I went over to the shop to grab some quick-'n'-easy junk food. We were outside on the porch eating it when I realised one of the kits, Mao, was missing. I went into a controlled panic. I checked the house - nada - I then wondered whether he'd followed me out of the gate. I went for a walk outside, banging the food plate and calling him, but nothing. This made me panic even more because he's such a vocal cat (hence the name) - if he wasn't mewing, had he been hit by a car!?

I flipped between panic and 'he'll come home when he's ready' feigned composure. I walked around the yard mewing, and no reply. It must be bad.

Then D said that when I went to get food, he saw all three go round to the back yard. He didn't think Mao was on the street. He thought about it for a moment, then said he remembered all three going into the back yard, then two: Sula and Shue/Ishuheri, came running back at a right pace - but not Mao.

Sh!t I'm thinking. Fox? Hawk? Something worse? What kind of urban predators do they have here!?

I stand looking around the back yard in dismay. Then my eyes catch a small, round drainpipe sloping into the ground, and they narrow. Tentatively - I creep up to it, lean low, and 'meaw'.

A distant, but audible reply echoes up.

Oooooh crap. My cat has fallen down the drainpipe.

D gets the torch and I shine it down the narrow opening. I see another pipe on the far side, then a vertical drop. Pants. There's a stone drain cover above the drop, but it's embedded in the earth. It would take four strong men at least to dig it out, yet alone lift it.

Right. Don't panic. No fire brigade to call - you're on our own. Mao's on his own. But you know where he is now. VSO-hat on. What resources do we have....

A towel, grab a towel. I run into the house and grab my towel. I run back out and D looks perplexed as I use the hand of the garden rake to push it down the drain. I cling to the other end of the towel and lower it down until my shoulder hits the opening.

Too short. I hear cat scuffles below, but the towel doesn't even hit the bottom. He can't reach it - if he's in there at all.

Bed sheet! Bed sheet! D runs into the house and returns with his bed sheet. I shake it out and try again. It's much longer. Will the li'le guy know what I'm trying to do?

This time there's a huge tug on the other end. I've gone fishing for cats and caught one! Hold on li'le guy.

I start to haul it up slowly. Three...two...one...

A little white fluffy head pops out of the drain pipe and looks around relieved. I pull him out and give him a strangle-worthy hug. He purrs like a moto. All is right with the world again, emergency rescue complete. 999 eat yer heart out!

My family are safe, all three snoozing on the couch and D asleep in his room. I noticed, and he later pointed out, that he's moved a few of his things in. It feels good. I'm quietly contented that he moved them into his room, not mine. I think things are going to be okay. So far, so good. Bahoro, bahoro (slowly, slowly).

Family, Safe & Sound
L-R: Ishuheri, Mao, Sula