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Mid-day Saturday, I'm halfway through hennaing my hair slightly orange (don't ask) and unable to speak due to a concrete-solid clay facial mask that Hirut gave me, when I get a call from Martine who's at the airport! Finally!
She was heading to Amani (where we do all our in-country training) with the new bunch of volunteers. I say I'll meet her in the bar later.
All beautified, I hop a moto over there around 5:40 and have a fantastic time hanging out with the new group. Really nice atmosphere amongst this lot, and a lovely new girl on the Disability team. It was utterly fantastic to see Martine again. I couldn't stop grinning. We stayed drinking after everyone else had gone back for dinner.
The next morning she came over to pick up the stuff she left in my storage room, and I went with her in the taxi to Nyamirambo. Steve and Nidhi, two vols who came in September, had been in the house whilst she was away and it was strange walking in. She had a couple of spare beds before, and loads more furniture, which had been taken and re-distributed. Looks completely new and empty.
We got Eric, the guard, to get us avocados for breakfast, then Martine introduced me to the sauna next door!
I'd heard about it but never been.
We walked in and they gave us panyas (long strips of cloth to wrap around yourself) and we went into the small communal changing room. You hang your clothes up and wrap the cloth around, and put another around your hair if you like, but mine was already up.
Then you go through into a large, cool room with a TV and chairs. Hmm, this doesn't feel hot at all I'm thinking.
"Through here," says Martine, pulling a wooden door in the corner.
Ayahb*st*rd!!! I can't breathe!
Never in my life have I experienced heat like that. Ever.
Mum's got a sauna, but it's a sensible one with temperature controls and stuff. This is just a huge clay vat of boiling water, which they pack with eucalyptus leaves and something called muhavoomba (spelling?) which has 'antibiotic' (I think they meant 'antiseptic' or 'antibacterial') properties. It smells utterly amazing, only your lungs are on fire.
It took me a moment to come to terms with the heat. I really wasn't expecting it, and we were in there about five minutes before we went out to sit in the cool room.
When we went back in, I was ready for it and adjusted quite well. We stayed in a bit longer, but even Martine can't take it for too long.
The second time we came out, we went to the shower cubical where they provide bowls of warm water for you to wash the sweat off with.
We washed ourselves and went back in for a third run. Again, didn't stay long, but it was wonderful. You could just spend the day going in and out, and thankfully there was hardly anybody else there.
Whilst cooling off in the antechamber, a guy asked if I wanted a massage, and I said 'no'. Martine proceeded to re-tell the story of when she and a previous volunteer had watched people being massaged. They go everywhere. It's 'all over', and one guy apparently got a little excited. Visibly so, through his panya. The masseuse just carried on!
Anyhow, we go in for the fourth and final time. We get talking to one of the gentleman in there, and his friend, who go twice a week. I'm sitting next to this gentleman (a mature chap) who starts explaining that you need to rub your skin to get the dirt off. It's amazing here because of the dust. Sometimes, after I go swimming or shower, I find this gunk coming off my skin as I'm drying myself - just a build-up of grime. I'd rubbed my arm in the sauna but nothing much came off. But this guy, without warning, starts rubbing my arm and then proceeds to my back!
I just kinda thought oh well, Martine's here and let him get on with it as he was getting some stuff off my skin. Then he tells me to lie face-down on the bench, so he can get to my back easier. What the hell - I do it.
So, there I am getting this superb, thorough massage of my back, then my arms. But, in order to be thorough, he's loosening my panya. It's really not tied, and I'm worried I won't remember to hold it when I sit up and my boobs will pop out :op
Then... he moves to my legs. Like a true gent, he explains to me as he starts 'don't worry, I'm only going to go up to here,' and presses the bottom of my buttocks.
Ooookay. Martine's here, it's fine - provided she hasn't passed out with the heat. We're both amazed this guy is giving such a vigorous massage in such a climate. I would have fainted.
So, off he goes - bruisingly thorough - all the way up to jiggling my bum and up my back. I'm hideously ticklish, so I'm giggling like a girlie, which sets everyone else off giggling.
He finishes off by taking each of my feet in turn, bending my legs all the way up my back, and pressing down a few times. It was really relaxing. Then he was knackered. Thankfully so, as he explained you can also 'do the front.' The back was quite enough for me, thanks!
But it was fantastic. I wouldn't have trusted him if Martine wasn't there, but I'm so glad she was. Awesome. My skin was covered in little bits. I made for another wash after that, and got it all off. This was also the guy who explained about the medicinal plant they put in with the eucalyptus. He got us to taste a little bit - extremely bitter, but apparently fantastic for sore throats.
We towelled ourselves off, got changed, and headed to a café next door for the best fish brochettes in the whole of Kigali - truly stunning - washed down with coke to rehydrate. Then I just spent the rest of the day bumming around Martine's and helping her unpack. She brought me chocolate :op
It was a wonderful day. I stayed well into the evening, then got a bus back home, changing in mumuji. That was the only down of the day. The first bus guy was extremely unpleasant to me: 'Oi, mzungu, cash,' he hissed. I told him how rude that was, which kicked off a lot of hilarity on the bus. I gave him 200 and he gave me 100 back, so maybe that was his 'sorry', but what a rude bumpkin. Thankfully, I got straight onto a bus to Kisimenti from town and got back easy enough, stopping at Ndoli's for cat food.
Was an excellent day and I'm sooo happy she's back.
Today, there was bugger all going on in the office for me to do. Just finishing the last touches to the dictionary which, by the way, is being printed this week!!! :oO
Fantastic news. Nobody had signed up for the Capacity Building course or Fundraising Training I offered, but Augustin assures me he's going to round up people to attend. I asked him directly what I could do now the dictionary is done? He just said the training I was giving is fine. So... quiet times ahead. I'm also in touch with a friend in South Africa to get help developing a curriculum, but it's all bahoro bahoro.
I ended up back at VSO chatting to Martine. She came back to use the internet. Then I launched into housework and washed my floors, did my bed sheets (which involves trampling them underfoot in a big bucket in the garden), and chilled out.
Tomorrow, I'm off to see Nidhi at LOV Rwanda, which is the national volunteering centre, to find out if they do any useful workshops I could tout to RNAD and Kivu Writers. Trying to be productive :)
Found this amusing article regarding moto drivers - reminded me of the time I experienced something similar. And appears the New York Times isn't in the good books at the moment. Articles like that do give you something of an 'insight' ;)
[NB 2013: First link in that last paragraph is no longer available. Can't even remember what it was about, to be honest. However, there is now another online account of saunas in Nyamirambo. Oh, and the plant is actually umuravumba.]
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