Presenting...Me! :)

Road from Amani to the local bar.
Much travelled route.

Thursday was one of those really really rare 'great days'. You know, you have plenty of good days, some average, quite a few bad ones here and there, but every now and then you have a really really great day where everything is brilliant. You get home, sit down and just think... aaaaaahhhh.

It was my grand presentation to ICT2 (In Country Training). When volunteers arrive (except me, coz I was late) they get a week's intensive training before shipping out across the country to their placements. Then, three months in, they all come back to Kigali for another intensive week - ICT2. Sessions include 'coping strategies', Kinyarwanda lessons, introductions to the HIV/AIDs project, Disability, Global Education, Gisozi Memorial Centre/genocide history, and so on.

I arrived right at the very beginning of ICT2 last November. Jo (she of the kittens) ran our Capacity Building workshop back then. She was also heading the monthly Capacity Building meetings. Incredibly efficient, lovely lady.

Who has just left.

Ho hum. I inadvertently came to take over her role as anchorwoman for the meetings. When VSO sent round an e-mail asking for volunteers to take over Jo's presentation at ICT, I stuck my hand up and spent the next couple of weeks bashing together some funky graphics (some nicked from Jo's old presentation) on Capacity Building.

I was still a bit nervous, though. Jo's a hard act to follow. As much as I tried to time myself talking, I couldn't get away from the notion that, if I kept hitting 'enter', I could go through 49 slides in less than 60 seconds.

I had one hour forty-five to fill. A good, meaty length of time. Capacity Building is also a huge umbrella term for lots of different things. I had to pick and choose whilst trying to give a nice broad angle, appealing to everyone. I picked up on the main themes of 'gleaning information' (how to get basic information out of people - big frustration here), managing personality types, running effective meetings, managing projects, and monitoring and evaluating. Suddenly, one hour forty-five doesn't seem all that long after all...

Like I say, I was a bit nervous. Then it was happening. I was really at ease by the end, job done. It was dead hard because my Programme Manager was sitting in. She's been here for over seven years now, so she's seen it all. It's a little intimidating after Jo had been at it for so long. Would I live up to standard? Also, all the vols were at the end of an intensive week's training where they'd been going from morning 'til night on so many topics. Things like 'coping strategies', which also touch on similar themes as managing personality types. Plus, it was the dreaded after-dinner slot when people are renowned for dozing off.

All of this was put at ease later, though. I stepped out with my Programme Manager, who said she wanted the chance to say thanks for stepping in, and that it was a really good presentation! Three people, including a member of staff, asked for it on their flash disks. Later, over lunch, one vol said they'd had a feedback session that afternoon and my presentation had scored really highly. I was totally chuffed. Thumbs-up all round :op

I stayed on after my presentation to hear Morley speak. He works up at the Genocide Memorial. He was talking on that topic as an open debate, to let people ask any questions they wanted to. When he was leaving, that's when my Programme Manager and I stepped out too. We talked a bit about what happened with the attack the other day. Apparently, a taxi driver at another site had ploughed his vehicle into a group of mourners. He told us that 18 survivors had been killed in the past month in retaliation attacks, but it's not publicised. I thought that was so tragic. You survive the genocide, then fourteen years later you are still killed. Really sad. Lot of work still to be done here.

Anyway. I stayed on a bit longer as Martine was talking. When she finished, she and I escaped to a bar just up the road. We had a bevvy and a really decent catch-up, then wobbled back to eat the free lunch. Most excellent.

I returned home glowing but shattered. I had a natter to Dad on the phone, made myself a cuppa, and went to bed early. D had phoned to say that he'd be late home as he was seeing someone about filming something.

It was a most fantastic day. Now I know that I can give the talk, I can do it again if they need me. I feel like one of the proper long-termers now. Part of the facilitation team of vols. It feels good.

Today was mostly a good day too. I'd arranged to meet the British contingent from Bourbon at the office at 10:30. I'd sent a text out telling some of my colleagues, and was quite stunned that the office filled up to bursting. Around 20 members turned up to welcome them! Power of the Deaf Community!

We had a brilliant hang out in the office, then I took them to VSO. Oddly, Antonia and Karen were in town too. The visitors were particularly interested in going to Deaf schools - which both of them work at. We went to La Planet for lunch. A really good day, indeed. Very strange coincidence. Still finding it hard to revert back to BSL.

Then things took a bad turn. I had a ton of parcel slips in my in-box, so I hopped on a moto to mumuji to pick them up. The parcels cost about FRW 270 each (30p) but they levied a 'late tax' of FRW 4,700 (£4.70) for not picking them up quickly enough. The total coming to around 21,000 (£21). 

I absolutely lost it as I'd been in only two days earlier to ask them whether I had any parcels. They told me they didn't think so. I'd spent 20 minutes scouring their illegible record book before giving up! F*ckers (pardon my French). I was livid. I was more livid with VSO because they had obviously sat on my parcel slips and not put them in my pigeon hole - VSO are bankrupting me! 

This is like the fourth time this has happened, but never this much money. I couldn't pay that much on the spot, so I got really angry with them. Suffering PMT, too. I pulled the whole righteous attitude, made a huge scene, then gloated when they realised, actually, I didn't owe them 21,000 because five of the slips had already been collected weeks ago! Swivel on it mate. He made do with one late fine and gave me two parcels instead of seven. I was mad at both their non-existent customer care, fiddle-you-out-of-a-quick-buck attitude, and VSO's incompetence landing me in that completely avoidable situation in the first place. I came home and ranted at D solidly for about ten minutes without drawing breath. His afro was straight by the time I’d finished. Then he opened the chocolate, gave me a smouldering kiss, and I completely forgot what I was talking about...

I think I'm in love. Sometimes I have to go into his room just to smell his cologne.

Anyway. All good, but very tired. It's been a long week. D's met a London-based African magazine editor who's trying to branch into Rwanda. He's going to try and write some articles for him. I'm helping with proofreading and suggestions. He's out at the moment, and I've been invited for Ethiopian as it's El's birthday. There's a whole bunch going. It's close, but I think I'm just too tired. I want to chill-out and see'f I can filter enough water for a cup of tea. The water's just come back on, it's been off all day and my domestic, Kazai, used pretty much all of the reserves. It's been a hot day and I was reduced to drinking the dregs from the kettle earlier.

Apparently, the reason we don't have any water is because it's the rainy season. This is what my Programme Manager told me the other day.

Yes, I gave her that look too.

The reasoning is that the heavy rains bring down mud, which blocks the pipes. It makes sense when explained, and possibly why we get water three hours after rain falls.

I'm now going through the process of filling every bucket, bottle, jerrycan and saucepan I can find...