On November 2, at quarter to eight Post Meridiem, the plane carrying me touched down in Kigali, the capital city of Rwanda. This was the fifth of five consecutive flights with a final flight to Kamembe scheduled for the next day.
The flights began with
1. Grand Rapids, Michigan, to Chicago, Illinois (1 hr and 5 minutes)
2. Chicago, Illinois, to Montreal, Canada, (2 hr and 17 minute flight)
3. Montreal, Canada, to Brussels, Belgium, (6 hr and 45 minutes)
4. Brussels, Belgium, to Kigali, Rwanda, (8hr and 15 minutes).
During the last two flights from Montreal and Brussels, I found myself wishing I had paid more attention to the French classes I took in elementary school in Canada, since I felt like I was the only one on the plane who couldn't understand more than three words in French (merci, au revoir, merde).
After going through the passport check, and after the security guard examined my crumpled temporary Rwandan visa and asked many suspicious questions, I found my ride--Philip, a thin tall Rwandan teenager--waiting for me outside with a big sign with my name on it.
He'd been waiting over an hour and a half.
Nevertheless, he was still gracious and, as we drove by the lights of Kigali's buildings, glimmering like a thousand fireflies nestled into the mountains of the city, he proceeded to give me a heavily-accented running commentary of Kigali.
I was amazed to find how many people were walking the streets in the dark (it becomes dark around 6 pm in Rwanda). Philip informed me that his favorite part about Kigali was the security. People would still be walking at 11, 12, 1, and 2 in the morning, without any fear of crime. It was a sharp contrast to the US, where similar streets would be deserted and people ensconced in their homes watching television and eating cheetos on their comfy couches.
I was amazed too to find that although the streets were remarkably well-lit and clean, there were absolutely no stop signs or traffic lights! Philip informed me that on the rare chance one did encounter a stop sign, one should look to see if there were any cars coming, and then accelerate past the stop sign without touching the brakes.
Let's just say that my car ride in Kigali was an adrenaline-inducing adventure.
In fifteen minutes, we reached our destination, passing along the way a large domed-conference building on a distant hill, with lights spinning like a coiled serpent around the whole of it in the colors of the Rwandan flag; a police station; an area Philip told me would be turned into an artificial lake before long; and finally Good News Guesthouse, where I would be staying the night. This was situated right behind a large, beautiful circular church with regularly spaced stained glass windows punctuating the wall.
I was passed into the hands of Renee, who led me past star-lit garden walks and swaying tropical trees to a small white room containing a fancy piece of furniture that looked to me like a medieval king or queen's four-postered canopied and curtained bed.
It was, in fact, draped mosquito netting.
A few African paintings adorned the walls and the oddly-fashioned electrical outlets punctured the walls.
I crawled into the bed at the end of a long day and was soon fast asleep.
The flights began with
1. Grand Rapids, Michigan, to Chicago, Illinois (1 hr and 5 minutes)
2. Chicago, Illinois, to Montreal, Canada, (2 hr and 17 minute flight)
3. Montreal, Canada, to Brussels, Belgium, (6 hr and 45 minutes)
4. Brussels, Belgium, to Kigali, Rwanda, (8hr and 15 minutes).
During the last two flights from Montreal and Brussels, I found myself wishing I had paid more attention to the French classes I took in elementary school in Canada, since I felt like I was the only one on the plane who couldn't understand more than three words in French (merci, au revoir, merde).
After going through the passport check, and after the security guard examined my crumpled temporary Rwandan visa and asked many suspicious questions, I found my ride--Philip, a thin tall Rwandan teenager--waiting for me outside with a big sign with my name on it.
He'd been waiting over an hour and a half.
Nevertheless, he was still gracious and, as we drove by the lights of Kigali's buildings, glimmering like a thousand fireflies nestled into the mountains of the city, he proceeded to give me a heavily-accented running commentary of Kigali.
I was amazed to find how many people were walking the streets in the dark (it becomes dark around 6 pm in Rwanda). Philip informed me that his favorite part about Kigali was the security. People would still be walking at 11, 12, 1, and 2 in the morning, without any fear of crime. It was a sharp contrast to the US, where similar streets would be deserted and people ensconced in their homes watching television and eating cheetos on their comfy couches.
I was amazed too to find that although the streets were remarkably well-lit and clean, there were absolutely no stop signs or traffic lights! Philip informed me that on the rare chance one did encounter a stop sign, one should look to see if there were any cars coming, and then accelerate past the stop sign without touching the brakes.
Let's just say that my car ride in Kigali was an adrenaline-inducing adventure.
In fifteen minutes, we reached our destination, passing along the way a large domed-conference building on a distant hill, with lights spinning like a coiled serpent around the whole of it in the colors of the Rwandan flag; a police station; an area Philip told me would be turned into an artificial lake before long; and finally Good News Guesthouse, where I would be staying the night. This was situated right behind a large, beautiful circular church with regularly spaced stained glass windows punctuating the wall.
I was passed into the hands of Renee, who led me past star-lit garden walks and swaying tropical trees to a small white room containing a fancy piece of furniture that looked to me like a medieval king or queen's four-postered canopied and curtained bed.
It was, in fact, draped mosquito netting.
A few African paintings adorned the walls and the oddly-fashioned electrical outlets punctured the walls.
I crawled into the bed at the end of a long day and was soon fast asleep.
No comments:
Post a Comment