Wednesday in Rwanda

This morning I woke, did sit ups and squats, breakfasted and now we are waiting – for what, I’m not sure.

It’s been such a long time since I’ve blogged for real. Lol. Gratefully, I have lists of all I did so I might go back and fill in the details, but intul that time, I will recount for you the current situation. I’m sitting outside in the garage of Elise’s home… estate… property. There is one main house for the family- spacious living room and dining room with attached kitchen and bedrooms – this is where I shower and eat. And beyond the house is a tin covered garage space, and beyond that up some stairs is a set of small apartments and construction. We stay and sleep up there. There is a small living room, kitchen and two bedrooms – but the water doesn’t work, so we flush by buckets of water. I’m sitting at a chair at a table with Elise sitting on the table and her cousin standing behind me in front of Elise. They are speaking Kenyarwandan except for the random English word. All I caught was Elise telling her cousin “You want to practice English – speak English – just ask her” and with a blush, the cousin turned and I wasn’t asked anything. :) The family has two girls that clean, open the gate from the street to the drive way and cook food. One girl is shy and just watches me, the other tries to speak and will grin like crazy and tell me she loves me either in English or in French – she’s adorable.

The contrast between Oman and Rwanda is immense – but I must say that I’ve not experienced any real culture shock coming here. Perhaps it’s that I’ve been to Africa before, have dear friends who are Ghanian and simply adore African culture (a huge generalization, but there you have it)…. Perhaps too, it helps that Elise is here, and even though she’s often talking to her family, the girls, etc, I know I can speak out and ask her questions when I need to. It’s comforting to see her again, and really fun to watch her in her own home, among other Rwandan people. I always adored listening to her speak Kenyarwandan on the phone when we were in Dayton, and it’s really neat watching her now. I am easily entertained and not requiring a whole lot of maintenance and so I hope that I’m neither in the way, or a pest or a burden to her or her family.

The shower situation is my favorite here – it’s like camping, but in a porcelain wilderness. The one shower in the main house has water and even has a shower head, but you hold the head in your hands since there isn’t a resting point for it to rain down on you. It was cool yesterday but warmed up through my shower, but today, it didn’t warm up at all. I asked Elise and she had a girl bring me “hot water”. She brought a bucket – but the water was in no way hot… or warm… lol. I still used it with a grin and simply washed my hair and face. I really don’t mind the bucket/cup shower – it reminds me of growing up and camping all the time. It is entertaining though.

The honey here tastes differently – and I ate a passion fruit today. The tea is still good, the smiles still genuine and I wish I spoke Kenyarwandan. Lol. Oh well. Maybe I’ll have Elise teach me enough to communicate the basics.

The landscape of Rwanda is stunning. Rolling hills, low laying clouds and so much green. It started raining the night I started travelling here, and Elise’s mother told me that that means I’m bringing good luck. It’s very unusual for it to rain in June, and so the timing is particularly interesting. Elise’s mother is a beautiful woman with a strong character. They greet with three kisses here, followed by a handshake, and they are so very kind to me. Both her mother and her father speak English and do their very best to say everything so I can understand and respond. I hope that Sara and Mike come back with incredible stories of their time with the whole family after I’m gone.

It seems that we probably won’t see any gorillas – you need reservations well in advance, one place we could go is over 3 hours away, and there’s a chance we could go and still not see a gorilla. Perhaps is something like a friend coming to Colorado, and demanding we go hiking to look for bears. I’m certain we could wander the hills and not see a bear for weeks. Though – at least with gorillas, they’re in groups – easier to track? For their sake and protection – hope they aren’t too easy to find.

Tuesday - kenya to Rwanda

Five hours after getting on the plane in Muscat, we arrived in Nairobi, Kenya. We walked off the plane to the tarmac – where we were all uncertain about where to go next. The plane faced the airport at an 80* angle and when we got off, to our left stood some workers talking, to our right stood the luggage cart, and beyond a door, some more trucks and no signs about where to go. Gratefully, there were some that had been here before, so we walked toward the airport, then to the right, under the plane to some steps in the distance – how crazy – several other planes just unloaded and so it was a mess trying to get on the huge ramp that lead to the second floor of the airport. As we left the ramp, I walked with traffic to gate 3 (the gate I was told by the flight attendant was for Kigali), and wandered the short, narrow hallways past all the duty free shops. Gate three was near a few other gates and a coffee shop and no one knew what was going on. The monitors read that Gate three was going to some random city that I’d never heard of, but the flight number was right. I had a few hours, and so sat by a friend I made on the plane and slept on and off until an hour and half before my flight. Then I wandered – to the gate, to the bathroom, to the gate, ask a question, repeat. They said that the city listed on the monitor was the final destination and that Kigali would be a stop on the way. The monitor never ever listed my flight as boarding or even open to go and wait, but I wandered down stairs with 45 minutes til we left, stood, asked a question and got in line. Right before it was my turn they called for Kigali people and so I came forward, got my boarding card (a laminated sheet) and went through another security. They took my water – jerks – but let me through – and I thought I heard a call for Kigali so I wandered past the huge group of people sitting, standing, laying around the room towards the door. The people in line also thought they were maybe in the right line to Kigali so I stayed, handed my boarding card to the attendant and went back on to the tarmac. There were three planes and three groups headed to these planes – they said “Kigali straight” so I went straight and prayed I wouldn’t end up somewhere I shouldn’t. Finding my seat, and settled back and passed out cold. I only woke for the breakfast, then fell fast asleep until we landed. I must say that Rwanda was much better than my Kenyan experience. They directed, I went, it was easy. I asked where the bathroom was and they led me directly to it- no pointing, actually took me there. And then I sat and waited for my dear roommate.

Elise was a welcome face, and it was wonderful to meet her father – he took us back home. The shower – while a bit cold – was absolutely incredible. It felt so good after feeling so greasy and gross. Elise and I sat about checking email and watching youtube videos, and then we were called for dinner. It was an amazing meal – chicken, rice, tomato sauce, with cooked vegetables. Mini bananas were for dessert – and they were great too. They look as fat as normal bananas, but just stunted in length – they have a Smartie ® like tang to them that is oh so tasty :).

After this, her father needed to return to work, so he dropped us off the Rwandan Genocide Memorial. It was really, really well done. It had an audio device that supplemented the written text on the walls and it went through the history of Rwanda, the elements that led to the tension and the catalysts that triggered the genocide. It was very hard to walk through, hard to see the images, watch the videos and hear the stories. I forced myself to look at the atrocity and commit to memory the personal face to such an awful event. It’s amazing that such cruelty, hate and murder happened not 20 years past. In this day and age… It should never happen. It should definitely not happen now. One quote sticks out – “After the Holocaust they said ‘never again,’ did that only apply to them?” Or something like that… basically – we promised then that no people shall ever be wiped out with the world only watching ever again – and yet in Rwanda it happened, and we watched. Is it happening today in Syria? In Libya? Do we know enough now to act and prevent the massacre of a people group? Is it our duty as humans to prevent this where ever it occurs? Is it our duty as Americans- rich, blessed, well trained to enforce it? Kofi Annan the leader of the UN said in a quote he could have done more – they could have done more to prevent it all. Is there another situation today in which we could do MORE? Anyhow – thoughts to ponder.

After this, we were picked up by the family driver, picked up Elise’s friend Michelle and were taken to her sister’s house. Her son had gotten hurt that day and they wanted to see them to make sure everyone was alright. Very soon, we left to go to a hotel for the French speaking Rotary meeting – Elise and I wandered the garden, then read Grimm’s fairy tales until the meeting was done. We actually read two stories in a row that ended well – I was stunned. So many of Grimm’s tales are so very, very dark.

Soon her father came out, brought over a Professor from the states and Elise, her father and this prof started having a discussion on the transition of a people from genocide or oppression to forward movement, and restoration. They were discussing the similarities between Rwanda and South African apartheid. I was in and out of consciousness. I heard some, nodded some and smiled appropriately, but honestly, my brain had shut off. Soon enough we said our goodbyes, came back home – ate a bit more, and fell asleep for real. I am sleeping in a bed with a mosquito net – which actually is kind of cool. It reminds me of how I wanted my bed to look when I was a kid – It’s like a secret hiding place even though you know the net is see-through. All I remember was the warmth of the blankets and the heaviness of my eyes, and I was out.

Monday - day in Muscat

7 am – I guess I should make a new day in this blog. Trevor and I said goodbye – which was sad… but I was very excited for him to be able to travel alone, and experience London for himself, on his own terms – very excited indeed. I’m pleased to say he made it there and made it home safely, even though it sounds like there was some complications with the travel situation.

I gathered my bags and at 7:30, went outside to wait for Kumait. I might add here, that Kumait is never on time – so I expected him to be late – but he was very late, and unfortunately missed his class. While I was waiting outside, however, I think I met every cab driver in Oman, and a few other men who offered to give me a ride anyhow. Don’t feel alarm at that sentence, ps… at the airport, there are only men, but I never ever felt threatened or unsafe or that they were creepy or dangerous. There was only one guy who was drunk who was persistent in his communication to me, but even that hardly lasted 5 minutes. I was the only westerner for the most part, and certainly the only western woman I saw. I could have covered my head – the blonde gathers attention like you wouldn’t believe – but I was wearing pants, so I was obviously foreign anyhow. After Kumait came, we went to get breakfast, and then went to his class.

In class, I was doing everything I could to stay awake. I started taking notes on my iphone but I was so freaking exhausted that my notes were gibberish and I wasn’t really paying attention. Kumait told me to take his keys and go to his car to sleep, so I did so. I found out later that I was supposed to take my leave and ask permission from the teacher before I left. The teacher was angry, it seems, that I just rose and left… oops. My bad, prof… my bad. Soon after class was done – Kumait came a knocking on the window – drove to a covered parking lot and dropped me off with some of his friends.

He had meetings and school and I didn’t really want to stay, so it worked out well that his friends were kind enough to take me around. Mohammed and AlHassan were the people I met, and Mohammed was the one who was my primary care taker. He was awesome. He drove me everywhere and told me stories of Oman, legends, and tales and histories. He answered some of the questions I had about Islam and we talked about the differences between Sunni, Shiite and the other types of practicing religious groups. We met with Zaid, picked up Said and dropped him off at the airport, then Mohammed, Zaid and I went to a restaurant called Maida’. It was amazing – traditional Omani food, and so very good. It was weird to eat it with a fork and knife, I have to say – it’s so much better with your hands… The Traditional Omani meal called Shuwa is amazing – lamb slow cooked in the earth with (red pepper, turmeric, coriander, cumin, cardamom, garlic, and vinegar in banana leaves….) It’s so tender, and so good indeed. The sweets they ordered were good too, but it had gluten in it… I tried some, but it made me sick… they gave me other gluten food later that made me sick again to the point that it came back up, and I no longer felt sick at all… yay body kicking out food that we don’t like…. I think…

We then went to Kergeen Shisha Café and then Mohammed and I drove some more. Ghaibe are ghosts in Oman, and there are a lot of stories of haunted houses and roads that some people avoid travelling to at night. There were apparently magicians that lived in Oman 50 years or so ago that could travel to Salala (10 hour drive) in an instant. Abodyah is the official religion of Oman but my friends were mostly Shiite. There are Sunni that live in Oman soon and as I understand it, there are mild differences in what they believe about who Mohammed said should follow him as leader and other details of the faith. Wahabe is another type found in KSA (the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia) and it seems to be the most disliked, they are the ones in power currently, it seems. In Oman, the Sultan has worked hard to make peace between the different sects… they all speak the same language, worship the same God and so thus should not be reduced to violence. It is intolerable, and so, the groups are pretty peaceful in Oman. Apparently, (and keep in mind the cultural biases) he said that the Sunni accuse the Shiites of loyalty to Iran… but as my friend put it well, “My allegiance is to my God, my sultan and my country.” And said that so much of it is fear mongering and gossip… anyhow. Interesting stuff.

Later we went to Ziara – another very western shisha café where I met MJ, and Zaid and Kumait came to play cards with us. They described women as “Sucar al Haya” or the sugar of life. Lol. Funny.

I taught them the game I call “Egyptian Rat Screw.” I really can’t tell you why it’s called that, but they enjoyed the game – even as they cheated recklessly. It’s funny because I really don’t cheat, and feel guilt even if I mildly cheat so, I’m playing a very, very clean game whilst Kumait and Zaid were over the top in their cheating. Thankfully, I was still winning, so I can’t say I really cared too much. It was hilarious and I had so much fun laughing with them. I told them I play football (soccer) and Mohammed and I started to compare battle scars and tell gruesome stories – it was wonderful. I hope I present another type of woman, who is still fully feminine, to them… perhaps open up a box of perception or two… we’ll see though.

Sadly I had to return to the airport and say goodbye again. I met a wonderful Sudanese girl who was able to talk to me about her life growing up in Sudan and then coming to Oman. She was Muslim and so had the traditional long dress and head covering. But she talked about how she felt gender oppression here in Oman more than in Sudan and other places. It was interesting to hear her perspective of it, as an Islamic woman, because I was beginning to wonder if it was my American ego that that just getting bruised. It makes me wonder if the people in Oman really know anything different and so are simply acting out cultural habits, or if there is also a deliberate mantra or passed on beliefs, that aren’t habitual acts, but verbally taught to their children. We talked a little about gender at the shisha bar and one of the boys said that he wouldn’t mind sitting in public with a girl, but her brother might – just as if his sister was sitting in public with a girl, he himself would be annoyed. And we brought up again that if a guy and girl get engaged and it doesn’t work, they break it off, it is perceived by the culture that there was something wrong with HER. Not him. And it hurt her chances of ever being married again… oi. I appreciate very much that my friends see some of this a very unfair.

Dubai last day - Sunday

5 am came way too soon. I promised Claire I would get up with her, so I forced myself up and was on the computer while she put the final touches on her bag – I will never understand how she travels with so little stuff. Her bag seems almost empty= but every day she seemed to wear something different, wear something cute – and she had belts and accessories, etc! I wish I could be more like Claire :D Maybe if I had a practice packing run, I too could have packed better, more efficiently. As it is, I’m just grateful to have an extra pack I can store things in. Too soon she left and I was so sad to see her go. But her joy at getting to see her husband was so precious, that it was easy to help her leave. I hope one day I can be so in love and miss someone so much that I look have as thrilled to go see them again.

I fell back asleep until 8 and woke, showered, and packed the rest of my stuff up. We checked out and left our luggage at the hotel (of course taking computers, etc, with us for security purposes – but it was heavy.) We caught a cab to the metro – metro to the Mall of the Emirates, which is the largest mall in the middle east (not including Dubai mall – which already has the title of the largest mall in the world). We had smooties and I had thai food (which was cooked in soy oil = Jessica felt like crap). But went with great expectations to Ski Dubai – the indoor skiing mountain. I must admit, that yesterday I felt compelled to go to Ski Dubai because Trevor was so very excited and it would suck to go alone, but I didn’t really want to go. The allure wasn’t there… it was a hill indoors with fake snow… nbd (not a big deal). But as we approached, and I saw the people inside, bundled to the nines, throwing snow and seeing their breath in the air as they laughed – I got very, very excited indeed. We got our cards, got our gear (clothes included) and did the awkward ski walk to the slopes. For some reason – my right leg decided that it wanted to be difficult and no matter what I did, it felt like the blood was occluded to my foot. I finally made it better part way in, but as I write this a few days later – I think there might have been some ischemic damage. My toes feel numb still. Oh well – this too shall pass and my nerves will grow back for sure. (Nerve damage to my toes has happened before – 5 inch stiletto’s revenge). ANYHOW. The mountain was so much fun. It had been 2 years since being on a mountain and over 5 probably that I had skied at all. I wanted to do boarding again, but since I’m a better skier, I went with those to keep up with Trevor. He’s very good, and has more courage than I. Even in Colorado I don’t go that fast because I don’t have the skill to stop, slow or have great control so I have these incredible, tumbling crashes. They should all be recorded and shown in competition because really, I’m very, very good at cartwheels and spins down mountains. The first run I was nervous and begging my body to remember how to ski. But by the last I felt comfortable and free and happy to go down more quickly and with more turns and complicated maneuvers than before. The last run was great – very cold though – and I was ready to head back indoors to warm up. 2 hours was the perfect time.

We then went to Dubai Mall to catch a Premiere Platinum Movie. Yes… it was outrageously expensive- but if you know anything about me, you should know that I adore the movies… absolutely obsessed. The obsession has dissipated since being in medical school (I’d rather pass) but my adoration is still alive and well. SO. For the movie nerd, this was the ultimate experience. It’s on the top floor, and they greet you and take you to your personal lounge when you can get drinks or food. Feeling poor, we ordered cheap water, but enjoyed our time nonetheless. They then escort you personally to your ginormous, leather chair that reclines and periodically check on you to see if you need anything else. I didn’t know they had blankets or else I’d have ordered one, but we got to press the call button to summon the butler who brought us more food. We saw Green Lantern, and I adored it. It was full of action and truth and power and happiness. There was bitter humor and sarcasm and I had such a great time. : ) I was terrified it was going to suck, but it was so very good.

I should add that there was this store that sold movie mementos from things like Batman, Lord of the Rings and Harry Potter – like, real collector’s items. I saw the day before that they had Arwen’s Pendant and did all I could not to buy it then. This is a necklace I’ve had a love affair with for many, many years. I owned it, but as I wore it, the gems kept coming off – it was so sad and so I haven’t worn it in 3 years and more. When we came back today, I couldn’t say no. It was the same price as I would have paid in the states – and I simply love that necklace. So. I’m pleased to say I now own another and I’m so very happy about it. I’ve had a great jewelry buying experience on this trip. My dragon bracelet was mildly damaged on the way to Rwanda – so I need to solder it back together – but I’m sure it’ll be great.

After the incredible movie experience, we caught the bus back to the metro and met a wonderful girl named Jo. There were several westerners that were so very lost that it was great to be able to help them back to the metro (we’d done it the day before). Jo was travelling alone and so we invited her to come to the Creek with us. She bravely agreed and we caught a cab to the Creek. It was everything I wanted it to be. See, Dubai is neat – expensive fountains, buildings, food, movies, and the architecture is absolutely incredible – the billionaires paradise indeed. But, it’s so western, so modern, that it just felt like a Playland, and not real or with any real character at all. So, I had heard there was a souk at the Creek and was determined to go and find me some Arabian soul. We arrived by cab and I knew before we departed that it was going to be good. The familiar street signs, the common tailors and lack of westerners all indicated that this was going to be a most excellent experience. There were boats that lined the river that ferried people from one side to the other, and we could see larger boats covered with lights make their way up and down on the lazy water. I led the three of us in and out of the ally-ways, through the shops and back again to get something to drink. It did not have the grace and beauty of Muttrah Souk in Muscat – but the low ceiling, the tight corridors, the over enthusiastic sales people sang to me sweetly. Deeper into the souk we perused, ignoring most everyone until we could decide where the best deal was. Sweet Trevor is too nice, and would walk the pace of the sales people, look them full in the eye and try to explain logically that no, indeed he didn’t need a Rolex. It was adorable. It was also the perfect way to get tricked into walking into such and such store and buying something we didn’t want. We kept walking until we hit a section where we hit the “Drapers” as I called them later – the sales people trying to sell fake Pashmina scarves who run at you with their linens and try to put it on your head. I never look at them, kept shaking my head and walking, and so never got hit, but I think my companions were draped again and again… Past the Arabian souk, we wandered into this VERY narrow corridor that changed its music and appearance into the Indian Souq . Gone were the scarves and entering were the various Hindi gods and statues and scents of India. There were jasmine garlands everywhere and various other flowers that made the ally smell incredibly. There were no other westerners here, and it was wonderful. This was the heart of the city that I was searching for. I adore the souks so very, very much. We wandered back to the scarves, dodging the Drapers, and I bought some more to take home as gifts. They really are beautiful things.

Eventually, it was getting late and we needed to be sure that Jo made it home, so we caught a cab, dropped her at the metro and went back to the hotel. We grabbed some more gelato – again, sick, but not THAT sick – weird – did my gallbladder loss change things?! And eventually made it back to the Hotel lobby where we sort of slept, sort of read the newspaper and tried to pass the time. At midnight, we grabbed our bags, grabbed a cab, and went to the Airport. It was a mistake to come so early. The reception desk wasn’t open for another two hours or so, we were surrounded by people, and screaming children, and chaos. It wasn’t the nice, plush, Dubai Airport experience I was expecting – and when I tried to befriend this 14 month old, she screamed and began to cry. Couldn’t have damaged her too badly because later she was patting on my head as I tried to sleep. Eventually, we got our tickets, got to our gate, got on our plane (thanks to being woken by some Americans at the gate), and arrived an hour later at Muscat Airport.

This arrival, it’s important to note, was so very, very different from our first arrival. Both Trevor and I were sort of freaking. New place, unfamiliar language, new faces, so much staring, it was startling. This time, I’m happy, contented, comfortable and at ease with it all. I know the airport, I know the temperament of the people and the stares don’t bother me any more… it was nice to be back in a country that I love a lot… soon to see people that I love a lot too. :)