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| Poolside at the Mille Collines |
Well, went for a quiet Italian Friday night, only the place was packed and the service was dire. Oh well. Marked the beginning of a mediocre weekend.
Saturday, D went in to work, again, to help Steve with some of the Mission Project stuff. It wasn't the studio stuff, so technically a favour rather than work. I don't know, I lose track. But he didn't get back until late. We went to Drew's house for a couple of beers. Regis and Christian (of KBC night) were there, but they were all playing video games on Drew's crazy-big wall projector and it wasn't really my bag. We did, however, order a stunning take-away from Republika, which is right opposite the house and possibly the coolest bar I've ever seen in my life. It's got that 'vibe' about it. I'll be going back for a proper drink some time. The food was delish, but we didn't eat 'til gone eleven, then Paula called to say the gang had just landed at One Love.
We got there to find quite a few VSOs, but the mood was spoiled a bit by the club's obsession with blinding white strobe lighting. You're right in the middle of a really groovy, laid-back reggae track and all of a sudden they whack this thing on and everyone wants to be sick and cover their eyes. I have no idea what possesses them to do it. It's such a shame, and really spoils the mood.
We'd only been there about half an hour when D says he's tired and wants to go home. I was narked because I'd literally just bought a bottle of waragi to split with Paula. Although I wasn't having a great night, sensibly, I should just have said 'okay, see you later' and carried on, but instead I said 'okay, I'll come with you.' I gave my drink to Cathryn and took a moto back in the freezing rain with him. I was in a slightly huffy mood.
The next morning, he wakes me up to tell me he's going to E's mum's place and we've been invited for Easter Lunch - 'it's traditional.' Never good to tell me these things when I've just woken up. I don't do mornings. I was still a tad peeved after the night before, thinking 'you didn't put yourself out for me and my friends, why should I put myself out for your family?' - which is completely the wrong attitude, I know. Let's call it hormonal.
He went, and said he'd call me later and come pick me up. Only it was Easter Day and MTN couldn't manage a p!ss-up in a brewery. The whole network was down the entire day. Dad tried to call most of it - on a few different providers - and couldn't get through. No texts or calls went anywhere. So I never got D's call, and ended up spending Easter Day feeling hopelessly homesick and totally sorry for myself.
It makes me sick to think MTN has an exclusive contract in Rwanda for something like the next 10 years. It's a total monopoly meaning they can provide as shite a service as they like because there's nowhere else to go (don't even mention Rwandatel!) and they're only adding to the unemployment problem because no competition is bad for customers and bad for jobs. MTN, essentially, suck.
Okay, rant over - need to vent at something ;)
So, again, D comes home really late, by which time I've worked myself into a complete state wondering why on earth I thought a relationship might be fun, knowing full-well I'm allergic to them.
We curled up on the bed and watched a movie with some Cadbury Mini-Eggs that Dad sent out. Suddenly, I remember why I thought it would be a good idea. Chocolate and man makes everything better again.
I think I just went from being single, to being not, so fast that I left my brain behind. It's going to take some time.
Soooo, yesterday I went into work but forgot my keys. I ended up going into town instead, to pick up yet more parcels from the Post Office - that's about 10 in three days! Thanks everyone *sloppy wet ones* :op
Then I bumped into Kirsty, another vol, and had coffee and cake in Bourbon - which now has shiny new menus, and is going to branch out into the MTN centre too! World domination ahoy! Although their 'Bourbon St.' sign always reminds me of the Sting song Moon Over Bourbon Street, where he's a vampire preying on young girls...
Anyway, went home via VSO to do some work (yes guys, I do actually work!) and threw an absolute fit when, after almost five months, they finally found my passport - in a draw - no visa, no nothing!
I could not believe it. I'd watched them leave to drop my passport off at Immigration after I first arrived! I’d filled out all the paperwork! Another VSOoooops. But then a lovely lady called Heather, who has been drafted in from HQ to help sort out the admin crisis here, rescued me from a coronary and promised to make it all better. I've arranged to go in and see her later today to start the process again. It should be done in four weeks max, she reckons.
I had arranged to meet Kirsty at the Film Festival which is taking place this month. They were showing a couple at the Mille Collines on a portable projector screen. D and I had been talking about going to see some of it, so I texted him to let him know my plans. I was heading there for 6pm. Quarter-to six I get a text back telling me he's out of town doing a music video shoot for a mate.
*sigh* Fine. I text around a few friends but none of them are that interested. To be fair, MC is pretty pricey and we're all pretty broke. I decide to go by myself. Sod it, I had a lousy Easter and a crappy passport fiasco, I deserve a little treat.
I dress up, get my slap on, and take a bisi into town. The MC is pretty packed, actually. I was surprised. I took a secluded table poolside. It was already dark, but there were still one or two people swimming - very relaxing to watch. I ordered fish brochettes and a beer. £4.60 for a meal that would cost me £1.50 anywhere else, and not much better quality. Still, I'd not eaten in the MC and afterwards I splashed out on a couple of cocktails by the same name.
I didn't catch any of the films as I couldn't be arsed to move over to the screen. The poolside was just so relaxing, and the cocktails so nice. Just what the doctor ordered. I also found my friend Ally, the lawyer I met on the plane on the way out. He was there with some friends, just returned from South Africa. Ally's a complete Scottish sweetie, it's always nice to see him. He's currently having a beard-growing competition with his colleague and looks more like a European backpacker than a property lawyer.
I also sat watching a rather mature ex-pat and his Rwandese lady sucking face on a table in front of me. I can't help but laugh, as it's something us younger lot never do in public. Cultural. I don't even hold D's hand when we're walking. Kissing in public like that! It's all reversed. It's what you'd expect young tourists to do who don't know the way things are, yet here's li'le me being oh-so-reserved, and them throwing to the wind. Good on 'em though, the world should be full of love. It's upsetting not to be able to have a kiss in the street or put an arm around your man. Maybe the more people do it, the less of a stir it'll cause - welcome to the West.
Around half-nine I get a call from D. He's home and wondering where I am, so I tell him 'poolside at the MC with a cocktail.' - 'Can I come find you? I've got something to tell you.' - 'Sure'. Sounds ominous. It's either 'I love you' or 'I'm leaving you' - either way, I have a cocktail.
About an hour later he does indeed find me. He looks shattered. 'What happened to you?'
Long video shoot, and a world full of woes. He's leaving 5am for Kampala, staying the night at his old digs in Kacyiru with E so that they can get off on time because it's a ten hour bus journey.
Oh. Okay.
I should be pleased he's getting E sorted out, but I've barely seen him in three days and I'm slightly brittle about it. Deep breath. Relax. He hasn't eaten, but only wants a beer as he's got to get back to Kitch and get some shut-eye. Ally leaves just before us. I beg him to let me know if anything's going on over the next few days - I feel like I need some fun.
So, we walk out together. It's tough having a man with such a complicated life, and patience was never my virtue. My life is just so uncomplicated - then I filled it with three cats and a D, now it's mayhem. I can't quite decide whether I secretly like it or whether I'm about to go wacko.
We walk down to get a taxi and, in the shadows, when there's no-one else around, we have a long goodbye kiss. He's even holding my hand down the street - now that's saying something.
He reckons he'll be back Friday. Well, what can you do? I texted him first thing this morning to wish him a safe journey, and he texted to tell me the buses were packed and he's gone ahead. E's getting the next available coach. I told him to look after E and to get back safe. At least Uganda is safe. Kirsty's fella was late back from Bujumbura the other day and she was in floods of panic. At least I know D will just be travel weary.
So, I'm back to where I was - manless - if only for a few days. Not all bad, I love my home and being by myself, so I'm happy. I just wonder what will happen after E gets sorted out. Will I see any more of him? Fingers crossed. I guess it takes a guy some time to relax after such a tough time of it.
Meanwhile, I'm planning another trip down to Gitarama to visit the YWCA. I'd like to learn about their Sexual Health and Family Planning 'Train the Trainer' courses for a potential women's funding project. I'm up to my eyeballs in Democracy & Human Rights American Embassy papers and I'm working with Antonia on a Theatre in Education application. I've got lunch on Saturday with a potential American volunteer. I'm helping Karen plan the programme for two Gallaudet students in May, trying to get this IT training moving forward, and chairing the VSO Disability meeting on Friday. So, at least I have a few distractions. I should have my confirmatory visit with Amanda soon, to finalise my placement. I think I'm going to suggest changing my title from 'Researcher' to full-time 'Funding Officer'. I don't relish the idea, but it's what they need, and I've put in the time back in the UK so I know the job. I'm getting RSI from hitting 'copy/paste' all day ;)
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