Opening Wine Kigali-Style

These pics are from Jo & Pierre's pizza party last May.

Anja & Pierre solving the problem of having no bottle opener ;)

Chicken Dinner and FSLC

Rwandan-style Chicken Dinner

 

Past week has continued the fun since getting back.

Been working my way through the films Dad sent with me, including Che 1 & 2, about the life of Che Guevara. I really enjoyed the first one but felt the second one dragged on a bit. There was a lot of action during the Cuban revolution but Bolivia was just a lot of running around Bolivia then getting shot. I would have loved to see one on the Congo Diaries which I plan to read eventually, it begins with the line:

This is the history of a failure.

Much changed over the past 45 years? :o/

I found the character of Camilo Cienfuegos fascinating, and intrigued he died at 27 in mysterious circumstances. I love the line "you broke your paw". Just amazing how young everybody was. You have to be around 25 to start a revolution and reform the government. Guess I'm a bit past it now. ;)

Also watched Watchmen which was surprisingly enjoyable. I've never read the comics but love the concept of Dr. Manhattan and the Owlship. Refreshingly different.

Some of the best news this week - I finally finished my novel yesterday! WOOP WOOP! I said I'd write one before I left, and I have. Took five months, 92,192 words, 30 chapters and 238 pages. Ruairí's proofreading it now and I'm waiting for a verdict from him and Martine as to whether it's readable or binable.

Wee snippet that caused a chuckle this week:

Nakumatt Staff Strike Flops: "Employees of Nakumatt Supermarket yesterday aborted a planned strike citing poor coordination."

Way to show your boss the initiative that deserves a pay rise ;)

Another story causing a stir:

Microsoft apologizes for altering photo to edit black man out of picture. Yet they forgot to edit the hand colour!

I posted it on FaceBook and it elicited a few cries of 'racism', but it's interesting what they said in the article - it was changed for Poland. A company will always try to hit their target consumer audience. Whereas America is a multi-cultural nation (on the whole, avoiding the Bible Belt) and has a black President, Poland is predominantly white I guess. So Microsoft needs to weigh-up the embarrassment caused by editing out the black guy with whether they'd lose a lot of money in Poland by keeping him in. So is it consumer-led racism from Poland's side?

Last Christmas Coke had a black Santa on a motorbike here as their marketing ploy. Being mythological, he's fair game. But what about Jesus - he was supposedly Middle-Eastern yet always gets depicted as a blond-haired, blue-eyed Arian. Would MTN's Fata Cash campaign get as much respect if they only used muzungus to advertise it, or would people laugh? Do ad campaigns in Africa become more popular if they feature black people or white people?

Lot of interesting issues.

Aaanyway, something less taxing on the grey matter. Met up with Ruairí and his mum last Monday. He's just celebrated his 50th birthday and his mum's just turned 70. She came to visit for three weeks and was flying home on Tuesday, so we went for a few beers at Stella. Was a really lovely evening and Cathryn and I continued on to see Simon and Shakur at Club Tropicana in Remera. Wasn't terribly strategic. I made it home at 4:30am and had work to do on Tuesday. Very almost died during the attempt but it was a fun night, lots of silly dancing and trying not to fall down pit latrines.

The rest of the week was fairly relaxed and work-related, then Friday I met up with Hirut who was back for one week doing some work for TechnoServe and staying at Chez Lando. We went for a drink at High Noon then into town to Republika to meet a lovely guy called Ebbe and his friends. He's a young American architect out here as part of his study, the son of one of the Board of Directors from Hirut's firm. Was a lovely evening. Then, just as we were planning to leave, Steve and Jacob walked through the door with a van they'd hired from the American Embassy and kidnapped me to Stella :)

Was a lot of fun, couple of marines and another English guy called Hugh who is out here researching NGO efficiency. Quite a fascinating conversation.

Ended up getting home at 4:30 again. Thankfully spent Saturday morning comatosed then crawled out of bed at 2pm for one of the nicest experiences of my entire time in Rwanda.

My colleague Léon who has been Project Co-ordinator since I got here is now a fully signed-up member of MINIJUST (the Ministry of Justice) and started his first job. To 'share in the wealth' he took us all out to the Umbrella of Unity bar behind the office for a full chicken dinner. It was totally excellent: Goreth, Michelline, Claire, Parfait and Emmanuel - sadly Gerard was missing as he's ill. We had chicken (a special treat), chips and fanta/beer - it was such a wonderful way to celebrate and everyone's so proud of him.

Later that night I popped over to Hotel Amani where the next generation of volunteers have just landed. Got there around 8:30, just in time for free food, and sat chatting to a few of them. Ruairí and Amy were there helping them settle in and afterwards the three of us popped over the road to the bar for a beer and a fascinating chat on linguistics and literature. It's always weird being back at Amani, especially now this is the last intake of volunteers before I leave :o/

Today is also an exciting day. Before leaving for the UK, I helped write the first Foundation Sign Language Curriculum (FSLC) for Rwandan Sign Language and today we're starting a trial run! The first group will be made up of VSO vols and staff and starts 5:30 tonight. Goreth is going to be teaching. We're charging FRW 10,000 per person for tuition, which is paid directly to the teacher and 5,000 for the end-of-course examination fee, which goes direct to the Deaf Association. So both Deaf people and the Deaf Association will benefit.

It's really quite exciting and there's money from the Charlotte Wilson Memorial Fund waiting so that we can train-up Deaf Sign Language teachers and roll the courses out nation-wide.

FB v. MTN Rwanda

lol

Someone's opened a FaceBook group entitled: MTN Rwanda S.U.C.K.S so much !!!!!!!!!!

And guess what. It wasn't me ;)

All hail consumer opinion!

[NB 2013: apparently the group is no longer up.]

Darkly Dreaming Dexter & Primus at 50

L-R: Cathryn, me and Anja at Jovial's house last June.

It's been an awesome first week back.

Beginning of the week was quite lazy and I worked from home, catching up on sleep from the journey and a few hundred work-related e-mails.

Caught up with Cathryn and Sarah at High Noon on Wednesday. I went to Sarah's beforehand to cuddle the cats. Had a massive Sula hug but Shue was out somewhere so I didn't see him. Total role-reversal since they moved there. Before, it was always Sula who was out strutting her stuff and Shue who was the soppy home-bunny, but now it's completely the opposite way round. Perhaps he's having issues with so many women in the house? I'll find him and cuddle him soon though.

Dropped off a ton of nice UK cat treats and headed for the bar. Cathryn joined us later and I may have been slightly the worse for wear the next day.

Thursday afternoon we had a very important meeting at the Deaf Association. The head of all VSO and the head of VSO East Africa are both in country doing a tour of duty and they wanted to pop in and meet us. Mike, the Country Director, and Amanda, my Programme Manager, were also there. Our Chair is currently in Holland with the leading academic on disability, attending an international Deaf conference so Gerard, the Vice-Chair, stepped in and most of the Committee and main volunteers came, including Leon, who was Programme Co-ordinator when I joined and is now a fully-fledged lawyer at the Ministry of Justice. To celebrate, he's taking us all out for chicken next weekend, a special treat - nom nom nom.

Continuing the high-profile theme, both the visiting heads came to the Disability Working Group on Friday. Sadly, our guest speaker was a no-show, he forgot which day it was, but the meeting itself was up-beat and productive.

Friday night the fun began. There's a wee group of us: Giudi, Maxime, Anja, Coco, Cathryn, J and myself who have taken to hanging out together. The picture up top is from J's house-warming last June where he and Cathryn cooked for us all. This Friday it was Giudi and Maxime's turn, also a house-warming, and Maxime cooked the most outstanding spread: potato & beef salad, spicy beans and rice. It was delicious and we ate, drank copious quantities of wine, and sat up chatting about everything and anything until the wee hours.

Wet season's definitely easing in and it rained the whole way home. Always pleasant on the back of a moto (err, not) but fine when you can just roll in, throw off your clothes and flop into bed all snug and warm. Water from the sky doesn't equate to water from the taps - naturally - and the water situation in my house is still dire.

Jo & Pierre's house, pizza party last May:
L-R: Me, Giudi, Maxime, Pierre, Jo and Anja.

Saturday morning I just lounged about and watched movies: Bedtime Stories, which was quite entertaining and involved a CGI guineapig called Bugsy, which is always good for a laugh. It also included Russell Brand who, I have to say, as fine a comedian as he is, is quite a terrible actor even in a comic role :o/

The second film I will discuss once and once only, I was that disgusted by it. Following on from the theme of horror movies: Mirrors. It was like the spawn of 1408 mating with The Brøken, but with none of the imagination.

Although The Brøken's release date was three months after Mirrors, I can't help thinking that someone probably read the script for the first and though 'nice concept, let's knock out our own version as fast as we can.' There's more than a hint of conceptual plagiarism going on there. By far The Brøken holds it for psychological suspense, plot, special effects and acting ability. In addition, the Mayflower Department Store which features in Mirrors must be a property location somewhere between House on Haunted Hill and Silent Hill, there was more than a whiff of both about it. A scrambled egg re-hash of a number of award-winning earlier concepts. So, yes, I was faintly bored and not at all impressed by it. It was certainly a shoddy down-size from Kiefer Southerland's Flatliners days.

Aaaanyway.

Last night was an absolutely brilliant one.

First of all, it was Ruairí's 50th birthday and he chose to have it at Handee, the new Indian restaurant. I really wanted to check it out but could never think of an excuse. This was the perfect one. Started around seven and everyone was there, from our Country Director, the British Council and the Deputy Ambassador, through to Ruairí's mum, Paula, Martine, Els and pretty much the entire VSO Rwanda corps.

The food was absolutely outstanding. Four types of curry in giant vats with naan bread and rice, self-service so you could stuff yourself silly (and we did) and ice-cream for desert. Totally fabulous. Highly recommended venue for parties and general indulgence.

Cathryn and I didn't actually make it as far as the ice-cream. We ate, drank, and made an early exit to Amahoro Stadium. It's the 50th anniversary of Primus beer in Rwanda, the first factory to reopen after '94 with a long-standing tradition of brewing in Rwanda, originally using gas from Lake Kivu to bottle it :)

In celebration they held a massive concert at the stadium including Rafiki, Kitoko, P-Square and Cécile Kayirebwa. I'm a complete fan of the latter and it turns out she's J's aunt! :op

[NB 2013: It turned out J told a lot of porkies. that was probably one of them.]

Unfortunately, we missed all the headlining acts because we arrived so late, but on the up-side we bumped into the guys: Simon, Aaron and Shakur, who upgraded us from VIP to VVIP and amazingly Giudi, Maxime, Anja & Coco had also slipped through earlier so we had a wonderful time guma guma (shake shake)-ing away to some fine Congolese beats with free beer and fireworks. Was most excellent indeed.

I think Amahoro's getting better at parties with practice. This was certainly better organised than the Shaggy concert and I didn't see any overt police violence, though the security people were miserable as sin and extremely unhelpful, directing people the wrong way into the stadium and then telling them to go back (lack of communication and planning), and preventing people from leaving to go to the toilet when they'd locked all the toilets inside the stadium, resulting in men peeing up against toilet doors! I have to say, for a major event venue the toilets are definitely something Amahoro need to work on. Small women's toilets with only two cubicles when you have thousands of people inside, really doesn't work. No apparent disabled toilets even though the National Paralympic Committee have their offices there. No mirror in the ladies, no toilet paper, locking toilets so that people can't use them - bit of a shambles.

The Primus guys were great though (well, I would say that, I'm biased) and the event itself was a brilliant line-up of acts. So many people having a wonderful time. Very well done. Rwanda needs more of these events - promote general happiness and good vibes :)

We rounded the night off at Stella and I finally fell into bed around 3:30 after a pain-in-the-arse ride home with a moto who ran out of petrol halfway down Rwandex road. Absolutely no one about except a group of drunk lads who tried to intervene (oh joy). I mean, really, when your sole job is to get people from A to B, you'd think you'd be capable of doing the one thing you need to do to make that job happen: fill up your vehicle.

Cathryn's moto did the same on the way to Amahoro *sigh* Eventually he managed to coax it back up the road to a petrol station and we were fine, but he kept stroking my leg on the way, driving at a snail's pace and chatting non-stop when all I wanted to do was get home. When we finally did get there he took about ten minutes to find change. Then my guard asked me to make him something to eat. At three-thirty in the morning. Do I look like your wife? I gave him some bread and went to sleep. Blah.

But minor trifles. It's been an excellent week and today is another lazy day of lounging in bed, eating a form of pot noodle, which I found in Ndoli's, and watching the last episodes of Dexter, season one. I am absolutely addicted to this. I first saw a couple of episodes from Season Two in Sierra Leone and wanted to watch it properly ever since. Dad sent me back with the first series and it's delicious. Absolutely loving it. Had to stop myself watching it all in one go so that today, Sunday, would be a treat. Apparently it's based on a book: Darkly Dreaming Dexter by Jeff Lindsay - this is now on my Christmas list people :)

So, off to make more coffee and watch the penultimate episode.

Huzah.

Jade Snow Wong

Interesting article:

Rwanda: Why Does the UK Give Aid to Country?

The United Kingdom will provide $80 million in development aid to Rwanda this year. Will it do any good? The simple answer is to look at the difference our support is making to the lives of Rwandan people.

Also finished reading a couple of books on my holidays. Finally got to the end of Midwives by Chris Bohjalian which I've been reading for months and months and months, picking up and putting down. Was a good story though, very well written.

Even more interesting was Fifth Chinese Daughter by Jade Snow Wong, which I think was first published in 1945. Wikipedia says 1950, but the inside of my edition said 1945.

Anyway. It was rather enjoyable and I was quite sad at the end to Google her and find out she died in 2006. You feel like you knew her from reading her autobiography.

There was a hugely interesting excerpt that made me smile. She was talking about the culture shock in college when her group took an outing to her father's modest clothes manufacturing premises in Chinatown and then contrasted it with a visit to a huge corporate American producer.

The way she describes the contrast in the early 1900s really struck a chord with me in the early 2000s, the contrast between a Chinese/African way of working and an American/British way. That in the smaller factory there were children and babies wandering around, that the pace allowed for colleagues to show each other how to do things correctly, that there was chatter and talk and a feeling of 'family'. Whereas the corporate Western way of doing things was sanitised and anti-social, people hardly spoke, people had little time for each other and their problems and everything was focused on the work, not the people. It was interesting to note that those same two styles seem to have continued largely unchanged. It's one of the first big adjustments we make as volunteers - changing our working ethos. Slowing down and coming at things from a human angle rather than a Western business angle.

Hmm.

Dad sent me back with DVDs so I watched one the other night, continuing the trend of extremely depressing but extremely good dramas. It was a French film called Il y a longtemps que je t'aime (I've Loved You So Long) featuring Kristin Scott Thomas who I think is fantastic and disgustingly talented, being as brilliant in English (Bitter Moon) as she is in French (Arsène Lupin). This was no exception.

The Very Best of Friends

Home Sweet Home

 

Well, given the amount of complaining I did in my last post, it would be easy to get the impression that I'm not in a good mood. Actually, the opposite. As I was explaining to a friend here: being British, I was born complaining and we've made it into something of an art form. Whereas the actions which lead to a complaint are frustrating and upsetting, complaining itself is cathartic and, on occasions, even enjoyable.

I am actually extremely happy to be back in Rwanda. I've had an absolutely lovely time the past few days.

It began at the airport. The guy at customs was absolutely lovely and smiley, welcomed me back in Kinya. Bumped into my Programme Manager who was also returning from holiday, then got a wonderful taxi driver called Peter, who turned out to be a relative of one of the VSO staff. He was the nicest guy in the world and so kind. He charged me 7,000 to get all the way home when other taxis at the airport charge 5,000 just to get to Chez Lando up the road! I think asking in Kinya helped smooth the way - a little language goes a long way. But it was excellent of him to charge such a fair price straight off.

We had a great chat on the way, discussing the weather, what's going on in the world; this, that, and everything. If anyone's looking for a reliable English-speaking taxi driver in Rwanda, give him a call: [number] he really is brilliant.

I slept like a log Saturday night, and on Sunday I went for lunch at SoleLuna with Giudi, Cathryn and Martine - we used up the entire afternoon eating pizza and chatting. It was wonderful, all my favourite people together, laughing and having a good time. Really was the nicest welcome back I could have wished for :)

Just getting back into the swing of things at the moment. Finalising funding for teacher training of Sign Language tutors, starting the first trial of the Foundation curriculum I wrote before I left. Really exciting times.

Some officials from VSO London and East Africa are visiting the Deaf Association office tomorrow, and on Friday there's a VSO Disability Working Group with Cris from MINALOC coming to talk about the Social Protection Policy and how it links to Disability, he's a really nice guy and it's always a pleasure to see him.

All good stuff.

I've only got about eight weeks to go - two months - before my placement's up. Thus far the job scene has been fairly non-forthcoming so I've re-applied to VSO. Would absolutely love to take a short-term contract in Mongolia on Secure Livelihoods.

Essentially, being back taught me a few things. Firstly, it's the highest unemployment since 1995 and I don't cope well on the dole. Last time I tried I felt so demoralised I burst into tears and left. [NB 2013: How funny that seems now. Unemployment kept on rising since I got back, not to mention the number of economically inactive people. 2.49 million out of work at the moment.]

So, thinking about it logically it makes far more sense to take another placement. This will allow me to expand my CV outside of the Disability Sector and into Income Generation and Sustainable Livelihoods, which is what really interests me, and also get a better standard of living than I would trying to survive off £70 a month in the UK.

When the job market finally does take off again, at least I'll be able to show that I've been working in a relevant field whilst at the same time doing a bit more travelling, which is always nice.

So, assuming no brilliant, well paid and interesting jobs suddenly fall out of the sky, that seems to be the direction I'm leaning in.

In other news, my house smells really bad. My worst nightmares have been realised: haven't got any running water. House isn't set up for that, so I'm extremely economical with my jerrycans. Essentially, water only goes down the toilet after I've bathed in it, washed my hair, and several pairs of undies. The water in one of the toilets has completely evaporated in my absence, leaving a foul-smelling gunk at the bottom which occasionally wafts through the thin walls. There was no water when I left for the UK either, so the toilets weren't fully flushed. Nice.

Ho hum. Such is life.

I'm feeling extremely relaxed, moreso than I was in the UK actually. I think because it's my home turf, my house, my work - everything's familiar. Plus I'm feeling extremely laid-back with the added insight that actually, the UK can be just as rude and frustrating as any other country on earth. Think about it, over the past two years I've had a swipe at Electrogaz and MTN. In the past month of being in the UK I've had a swipe at British Airways, Co-op Bank and London Transport. [NB 2013: I neglected to re-post my Co-operative swipe as it was quite dull and they're in enough trouble at the moment as it is. It was just about about how hard it was to contact them from abroad with limited phone credit, since they ditched their customer service e-mail accounts.]

Still, the food, wine, running water and lack of 'muzungu' does make up for quite a bit.

Then again, in Rwanda the pace of life, friends, and motos make up for a lot too.

It really was wonderful being on a moto again - I do love those.

And I have to say, I reckon people in the UK look at each other just as much. I felt a bit out of place a few times. Here you know you're different and people stare directly at you, but in the UK - because it's so rude to stare - people kind of flick sideways glances at you a lot. Anyone else noticed that? I never did before. Maybe I'm paranoid.

Lies sent me a link shortly after I got there regarding Re-Entry Syndrome experienced by overseas aid workers going back to their native countries. Also called 'reverse culture shock'. I have to say, I definitely noted a couple of symptoms.

• Initial feeling of euphoria. Which I didn't realise I was feeling until it suddenly wore off.

• Frustration and lack of desire to try and communicate to people because of a perceived lack of interest.

• Frustration with the amount of hedonism going on - Excuse me Maybelline, but what the f*ck is 'comfortable lipstick'!? When the hell did you ever wear an uncomfortable lipstick? (dumb advert on TV)

Thankfully I was surrounded by lovely friends like Graeme and Cassie, and Dad and Marilyn visited last year so were dead chilled out about it. Jo and Pierre knew exactly what I was feeling, both having been through it.

It wasn't too pronounced, and actually I have quite a good ability to switch off and adapt to where I am. Amanda, Martine and Cathryn had all prepped me really well on what to expect before I left, so it wasn't a complete surprise.

But I do feel good being back, even if it is only to wind down to leaving again. It's made me doubly sure I don't want to go back to the UK yet. I'm just not that in love with it right now. Which is funny, because if I hadn't been born there I probably wouldn't have had all the opportunities that have led to me being able to travel so freely. So, acknowledged, there are many wonderful things about it. But hopefully it'll always be there, so I might as well have some adventures in the meantime.

In news, news. Saw this today. What a lovely step in the right direction. Rwanda Police Authority should be really proud of themselves:

Rwanda: Police to Enhance Citizen Participation: Rwanda National Police have opened their doors for the public to both criticise and compliment the force where necessary in a new effort to enhance service delivery.

British Airways Suck

Little incident that happened at the airport on the way home. Let this be a lesson to anyone who needs a BA connecting flight to Europe for a long-haul flight. Heed this lesson well.

I ticked the box saying that I wanted a reply. Let's see what they come up with.

And no, it didn't really spoil my holiday all that much, but they needed to know how their policies affect us poor global commuters. You have to enjoy writing complaints otherwise they don't work ;)

==============================

Complaint to BA, 18.08.2009

I'm a British citizen volunteering in Rwanda. Last month I returned home for the first time in almost two years to see family and friends. I booked with Brussels and assumed Brussels would fly me all the way home.

But no, it was my misfortune to have to deal with BA.

You really did make my journey far more stressful than it ever needed to be.

When checking in at Heathrow in the early hours of the 15th I encountered an unexpected shock: so much ridiculous red-tape you could have tied up an elephant.

Every one of my e-tickets (which I'd be extremely happy to forward you) said 46KG baggage allowance. You'd expect this really, travelling so far.

I checked both bags in with Brussels in Kigali and they both arrived safely in the UK, no trouble at all.

When I tried to check them in with BA at Heathrow it was a totally different story.

Despite it saying clearly on my ticket that I was entitled to 46KG on the flight, the woman informed me that no, I was only allowed one bag because it was a flight to Europe, it didn't matter that I was flying to Europe to get a connecting flight to Africa.

She called her manager who then tried to insinuate that because it was an e-ticket, the information printed on it wasn't as valid as if it was an actual, letter-headed, printed ticket and mentioned all these "clever people" using their computers.

This was highly embarrassing in front of my family and a long line of impatient customers.

She then confirmed I was only allowed one bag although at NO point did she question the weight restriction.

So if it had been physically possible for me to fit 46KG of luggage into one bag, I understand there would have been no problem. If the weight is not the issue, why on earth should it matter one iota whether it's in one bag or two!?

So after more than twenty minutes of phoning around people she made it clear, for the fifth time (excruciatingly condescending) that she was going to let me take them as a 'gesture of good will'.

Well BA, I haven't got the slightest sentiment of good will towards you right now. You really gave my trip home a bitter ending.

Why, in this day and age, can you and Brussels (or any other airline) not come to some sort of common sense agreement that anyone on long-haul connecting flights is allowed the luggage limit of the longer flight?

According to the manager, coming from Kigali BA accept the larger weight limit checked in with Brussels. Going back they should do exactly the same. It's not like I'm going to need less luggage, or pay for excess just to get to the plane where I'm entitled my full allowance. And you certainly didn't offer me a discount on my USD 1,300 ticket for the lesser baggage allowance you were trying to impose.

Come on BA - engage your brains. That really is a disgusting way to treat long-haul passenger.

Here, There and Everywhere

So, that was the home stretch of my stay completed. Lots of eating and relaxing. Dad was raving about a TV programme called The Street (which, according to IMDB, has been going since 2006) and I managed to catch an episode at Mum's. It was indeed a most excellent, hard-hitting drama. Also played a lot of omweso as I bought Mum a board for her birthday.

On Tuesday 4th I began my whirlwind comeback tour of the UK. It began with a train to Bath Spa, where my good friend from uni, Graeme, picked me up and took me for drinkypoos. Had a lovely time wandering around. It's a beautiful city, full of old Georgian buildings and quirky shops. We went to a most excellent little pub and sat in a rowing boat, which had benches and a table in it, positioned in a small pond. He taught me how to play backgammon.

On the Wednesday, Graeme cooked me one of his legendary vegy fry-ups with halloumi cheese (squeaky cheese) and we went to Bristol to another boat called The Apple, which is a cider bar on the Avon. We met up with another friend from uni, Vikki, who got married to Dai in Vegas whilst I've been away. We drank Brother's Strawberry Cider, then went into town and met up with Dai for more drinks, a Subway, and more drinks :op

Was a lovely evening and we caught the last train home to Bath around 11:15pm. The next day was laaaazy. Graeme took me to see his workplace, then we had a leisurely drive over to Stroud to meet some of Graeme's friends: a talented drama teacher called Em, and her equally talented partner, who makes reconstruction costumes for films, musicals, and U2 tours. Also met their friend Fi, who I did an astrology chart for last year. Always nice to meet people you read for and find out that you were accurate. It was a lovely evening, Graeme was a whiz in the kitchen again, but I drank waaaaay too much (did you know they now do Castello del Diablo in double-bottle measures?) and ended up visiting the basin later in the night. Strangely, I felt absolutely pucka the next morning. Talking of pucka, Em had an extremely funny track that some band had done by slicing up clips of Jamie Oliver doing his cookery programme. May have been Cage - but I can't remember. It was hilarious, I've been searching for it on YouTube ever since but to no avail.

The next day I got a National Express coach to London (nine pounds with online advanced booking!) and a bus up the road to Camberwell, where Jo & Pierre (my next door neighbours from Rwanda) live. They brought me chocolate, I took them waragi :op

Had a fab night in their gorgeous apartment, and went for drinks at the local multi-story car park which had been converted to a rooftop bar for the summer. You could see the whole of London from up there. It also sported a modern art exhibition. As we left, we went down the internal ramps and looked at all the stuff on display. Great idea for disused space. Took some photos, which I’m sure will follow shortly.

We ended the night at a local Turkish restaurant. The food was divine, but I heard myself saying something I would never have thought I'd say in a million years. I was complaining about too much service!!! From one extreme to the other: in Rwanda no service, in Camberwell too much! Two Turkish waiters took it in turns to come and check on us literally every 10 minutes. One started with small talk: "Are you having a good evening?" but then carried on into full-blown conversation: "Where abouts are you from? Oh yes, lovely part of the country..." He asked us twice if we wanted a fan as it was a bit warm, then brought one anyway even though we'd declined. It was quite funny.

The next day, I hopped a bus down the road to Lewisham to catch up with Cassie and Sean. Cassie's a really close friend from uni, and her husband Sean used to work with my ex Phil in Reading. Phil and I were witness and bridesmaid (respectively) at their wedding and they've had a little boy, Ryan, in the time I've been away. He's the most adorable guy in the world, though rather cheeky. Oooh look, new person... *smack* - hand on boob! :oO 

Cassie's a bit knackered, though. She's a nurse, and she'd been on night shifts, meaning she got home and looked after Ryan all day too - about 30 hours without sleep. She'd had some sleep the night before I arrived though, and we all went to the park over the road for a picnic. It was really lovely, and we came home with beer, take-out, and Blade: Trinity. They thought it was better than the second, but even thought the second was somewhat pretentious, I still felt it was better than this. The acting really did fall flat in parts, but lo and behold, Ted Bundy was very watchable and didn't look at all like a mass murderer with all that facial hair and styling gel ;)

Was sad to leave them the next day, time goes so fast. The whole trip caught up with me a bit and left me feeling rather sensitive when I got to the ticket office at Lewisham station. It was quite noisy and, when I asked for a one-day travel card, I thought the guy hadn't heard me and that he'd said "what?" So I repeated "one-day travel card please," to which he retorted, "yes, I know what one is darling, but which zones?" - really snide tone of voice. I said I wasn't from London, I didn't know, and all zones please. He then wouldn't believe I wanted all zones and kept asking where I was going. I said I didn't know, and he said he was trying to save me money, again in a really overbearing voice. I stuck with "all zones" so that I didn't have to worry if I wanted to go somewhere outside the centre. I sat feeling tearful all the way into London. Gimp.

I felt like I needed time-out, so I made the most of the travel card and went to Charring Cross, where I jumped on a tube to Leicester Square. I had a vague idea that it would be really nice to go to the cinema, and they have really big ones in Leicester Square, but when I got there I kind of changed my mind and ambled in the direction of Chinatown.

I kept on going until I got bored and hopped a number 25 bus to Oxford Street, but almost immediately leapt on another bus to escape the crowds. I ended up in St. Paul's, where I stopped to admire the cathedral and walk around the gardens before grabbing a Subway and heading back to Oxford Circus by bus. I stopped to brows HMV and then headed for the underground, where I bought a pen and piece of paper from a kiosque guy called Muhammad so I could keep track of my journey. It turned out that his family live in South Africa and he pops back occasionally.

I took the Northern Line to Baker Street, only, when I surfaced again, I was right in the middle of a line of riot police and a thousand blue-and-white striped Chelsea supporters chanting at the top of their voices from an adjacent pub. Thought I'd best leave them to it, so jumped on another bus to Euston Station. Unable to spot any cinemas en route, I tried to think of what else I'd like to do with my day and suddenly The National Portrait Gallery sprung to mind. I'd always wanted to go, but never been. So I asked someone at Euston which bus I needed and he directed me to the number 91 stop to Trafalgar Square, where I bought an ice-cream and wandered to the gallery.

I love portraits. The really old ones from the early ages to around the start of the 1800s. They have a fantastic little headset that matches numbers on the paintings, giving you a guided tour for only two pounds. The top floor was my favourite place ever, I could have spent hours there, but I only had about four before closing, so I forced myself to be selective. I've decided my favourite portrait in the entire gallery is the one of painter James Barry.

Having said that, my heart gave a little flutter when I entered the room and saw Mary Shelley, Byron and Percy Shelley lined up together. Although I've never read any Mary Shelly, I loved both Byron and Percy's work in my mid-teens. Shelley's The Cloud is still one of my favourite poems ever and I'd like the first four lines of the last stanza as an epitaph one day (not just yet though!).

It gave me a thrill to see them all up there - the pictures always used on my old Wordsworth Classics tomes. I bought Byron's on a postcard in the shop, but was somewhat disappointed that they didn't have cards of Mary or Percy. It would have been nice to have all three. I also enjoyed seeing the Brontës in paint, etched by their brother. Especially the cracked one of Emily, which is quite haunting. I guess I like portraits so much because they are the closest thing to glossy magazine pictures of your idols, only they tended to be far more talented and intriguing than those who appear in glossy magazines nowadays, known for their literary ability rather than their latest film releases; enigmatic in what was never known, rather than splattering everything across the front pages. Says she, who keeps a blog...

So, I had a lovely time at the gallery and treated myself to game pie and ale at a pub down the road: The Coal Hole, before walking over Waterloo Bridge (the title of one of my favourite war movies ever) and looking down on the National Theatre, where they have a huge fake lawn outside. Also a giant table, lamp, and sofas also made to look like hedges with loads of real people sitting on them. From there, I took the 171 bus back to Camberwell. Buses have become so much easier since they installed an automated system to tell you where you are.

Felt I got fair use out of my ticket. Chilled out with Jo, Pierre, and the TV.

The next day, I was back on the buses to Angel, to meet up with my second cousin Alx and her lovely husband Pob, who got married two weeks after I left the country. Alx sent me a wonderful parcel of goodies last Christmas, so I reciprocated with Rwandan goodies. Had a lovely night, went for a beer in Angel where we bumped into one of Alx's colleagues (who also happened to be Errol Brown's daughter) and then they took me to Wagamana's noodle bar. Was a bit spooky though, at their home in Hertford they have the same floor as Jo, the same cushion as Jo, and the same piano, but in light wood rather than dark... weird.

Had a lurvely time, then went into work with Alx on the train the next day, got a bus to Victoria and another train to Birmingham New Street to meet Dad. We drove up to Carlisle to see my Aunty Jean and enjoyed a day of trundling around the Lake District to Ullswater, Keswick and Cockermouth via Castlerigg stone circle - one of my favourites :)

On the Friday, we drove back down to Birmingham. I did quite a bit of the driving and regained my confidence. People often get nervous about motorways, but I prefer them to country lanes, you can always see what's ahead and you're all moving in the same direction :)

From there I got a train to Long Buckby. I pulled in just as Mam did. We went home to get Merrick and had a big steak dinner down The Pytchley. We didn't go to bed, as I needed to be at the airport by, so we sat up watching TV and drinking coffee. Left around 3am, Merrick drove us.

An exhausting but most excellent gallivant.

Country Gal

Hollowell Reservoir

After Mum's Birthday on the Friday, I spent Saturday chilling out with my nephew, Damian, who remembered me even though he was four when I left and is six now! My brother was also there - pictures of both at the Sunday Family BBQ.

Couple of brief things I forgot to mention from the first week: my friend Daniel Moses was on the flight out of Kigali with me. Live here long enough and you're guaranteed to know someone on every flight - small world.

I also failed to convey the sheer wonder of my first hot bath. I'm more of a shower gal, but I felt a proper soaking was required. It was more of a slow steeping actually, with plenty of Lush bubble melt. The water was brown when I got out, and all that colour I thought was a suntan...well...

Mum's also got a bath. A veeeery big bath. It's one of those full-on jacuzzi jobbies with underwater lighting. I like the blue light. Feels like you're bubbling away in a cauldron. Great stuff, and perfect with a nice glass of wine.

I also had a wonderful time wandering the fields down to the Duck Pond, and across to the reservoir. The landscape's changed a bit, though. Someone's built a new housing estate on the country lane leading to the fields and, at the other end - Hollowell Reservoir - a family of minted toffs have moved into a house built on our old neighbour's land, and they've put up a security fence!!

This means that you walk around the water, then you can't get back onto the main road unless you know the code. Which I didn't. Thankfully, a car came up behind me so they opened automatically, but it's a wonderful example of the horribly prissy rich twonks who move into villages and think they are more important than the land they're living on. A return to the days of lairds and peasants: huge big walls around their sudo-mansion, dogs, CCTV cameras, security gates on a public access road - disgusting. One of the locals up the pub was saying we should protest: take it in turns to superglue the code pad. He reckons after replacing it a few times they'd give up on the idea. Whereas I don't agree with vandalism, it's a sorely tempting notion. More money than community sense. The land was there before they were born, it'll be there after - why do they feel the need to go dictating who can walk there and who can't? Generations have enjoyed that particular walk, then they move in and spoil it for everyone.

Other than that though, everything's as I left it. Nice thing about the countryside, add a few horses here, a lamb or two there (or llamas! apparently they make excellent sheep guards) but nothing much every really changes. It's a beautiful constant.

I also spent a day walking around Market Harborough as I needed to see Ed and pick up some dreadlock materials for Lies. He runs Dreadworx, which is a fantastic company for all your dread-head needs. [NB 2013: sadly now defunct] He first started it from the village we grew up in, but has now got his own shop in Harborough called The Black & White Board Stores: 26 Coventry Road (opposite the Co-op, above the dry cleaner's). [NB 2013: also now defunct]. He sells everything from snowboards to mountainboards, and a whole range of accessories.

Also managed to fit in a dentist appointment. I've had a twinge in my gums for a while, which I put down to a wisdom tooth coming through. I managed to find a lovely dentist in Harborough, through The Three Swans pub and over the road. They saw me within the hour. They confirmed it was just a wisdom tooth cutting and said that my teeth were in excellent condition. The apprentice was amazed that at 28 I have no fillings, and asked what my secret was? To which the dentist ventured "brushing and flossing?" I nodded. "Works, doesn't it," he said with a smile. I've always been lucky with dentists. Last time I hadn't seen one in five years and got the prognosis: "immaculate" :)

To celebrate, I went straight back to The Three Swans and had a delightful meal of chicken stuffed with apricots and chestnuts, wrapped in bacon. Stopped just short of rubbing it on my face, and washed it down with half a Bombardier.

Also had fun driving. Merrick, Mum's partner, is a driving instructor, and took me out for a wee spin. I felt nervous as hell. I only passed my test a year before leaving. In that time I became an extremely confident driver as I had to commute every day. Twenty months out of the driving seat is a long time though, and I felt extremely nervous. Despite never having driven in Rwanda, I actually did end up trying to drive on the wrong side of the road - twice! No fatalities, thankfully. :oO

We also went to Lubenham to have dinner with Mum's friends David & Kate, who have a son, Harry, about the same age as Damian, so they played whilst we had a BBQ and drank wine. Was a lovely evening.

So, that was relaxing. I spent a lot of time in awe of Broadband. Overdosed on YouTube and photo sites. One of the world's greatest luxuries.