Friday’s Blog:

Today it was Andy and Isobel’s turn to wobble around the rear of the 4x4 truck.  The chairs had been washed overnight so were oozing with water as Isobel leaned back on them.  To cushion us from the violent bumps along the road, Andy went to fetch a couple of pillows, but unfortunately his pillow self destructed as it was pulled out of its pillow case.  Isobel’s pillow worked as a great shock absorber, but regrettably it also absorbed the water from the seat leaving a squiggly mess on her back, which, coupled with a self collapsing seat, made for a less than comfortable ride on rutted roads as we climbed high into the mountains.  

The hillsides were notably a richer darker brown colour today as they had been dampened by the overnight rains  We even noticed a couple of waterfalls plunging down the hillside on the opposite side of the valley way below us.  These will of course multiply as the rainy season progresses.  It was a beautiful, scenic journey as we travelled on to the top of the world.  After about an 1 hr and 45 mins of being buffeted by the rough roads into a remote corner of this country, Placide, our navigator worryingly announced that he’d never been to this far flung parish before and then calmly uttered those memorable words, “ We might be lost!”  After stopping to ask the way on several occasions to the excitement of various passers by, we finally arrived in the parish of Bugarura. There was group of people beside the road queuing in front of a small shack, apparently a pub, and they were waiting to buy a drink of cassava beer.  The driver asked the way and we promptly drew into a dusty village square, where we were warmly greeted by the beaming face of Pastor Seth.  This pastor was immediately recognisable, though short in stature, his smart suit certainly compensated for his diminutive height.  His bold black, white and red tartan effect checked suit would have cut a dash on any western golf course, but appeared a little incongruous in this African backwater!  When Andy complimented him on his impressive suit, Placide told us that according to Rwandan custom, Seth now needed to pay Andy some money in recognition of this compliment. We then reminded Placide however, that he in that case, also owed us money as we’d previously commented on this trousers, that ‘shimmered in the sunlight.’  He’d told us that these were his special wedding trousers, that he had not worn since his marriage ceremony!  

After over 2 hours on this bone-shaking journey, we were all keen to relieve our jostled bladders.  We were directed across the back yard, under a tree laden with avocados to a surprisingly clean concrete shed, where a brand new toilet roll was placed beside the long drop, especially for the honoured guests.  Under the tin roof was a large air gap, which afforded a refreshing waft of fresh air into the hut and a pleasing view out to a grove of banana trees, which rustled as they swayed in the breeze.

As usual we were ushered into the pastor’s house, where we washed our hands and were offered flasks of milky African tea along with a range of local fruits - small finger bananas, green skinned oranges, tangerines and tree tomatoes.  Placide demonstrated how Rwandans bite off the top of tree tomatoes to then suck out the juicy contents, similar to normal tomatoes, but a little sweeter.  Though Grace gave this a go, mzungus are not very adept at this practice, so most of us reverted to slicing them with Andy’s army knife, to the fascination of the row of watching catechists.

Soon the pastor’s wife, Jeanette, arrived.  She was significantly taller than her pint size husband, but when I questioned Placide as to whether Pastor Seth was from the Rwanda’s minority Twa tribe of ‘pygmy’ height, which he had told us all about yesterday, Placide rubbished this comment and found it hilarious. Jeanette sat down with us to breast feed their 3 month old baby. After our refreshments, we introduced ourselves and then in turn all of the representatives from all 7 local congregations explained to us their roles in each particular church along with their secular jobs as farmers.

Pastor Seth apologised that as today is a holiday for the inauguration of the president, several of his church members would not be here to meet us, as they were listening to the president’s speech on the radio or TV.  This explained why Paul had noticed a group of people gathered around a TV on the roadside.

Grace began to explain that she was about to conduct video interviews of the parish ministry team and that it might be good to start with a rousing chorus.  No sooner than these words had been translated, the whole room erupted into song, clapping, dancing, rhythmically stamping their feet on the floor whilst twirling around with their arms outstretched so that the whole world reverberated in praise.  The pastor’s wife couldn’t possibly miss out of this exuberant outburst, so the poor baby was unceremoniously ripped from her breast and dumped on a nearby chair as she threw herself into the worship on the dance floor!  It was beyond Grace’s control to tell them that we weren’t actually ready yet!

Whilst Grace and Paul were conducting the interviews, Hannah and Isobel wandered out to explore the environment.  Just outside the pastor’s house is the shell of a church building with rudimentary scaffolding of tree branches.  They began building the church in 2015 and expect it to be finished in 2020.  They meet there to worship even though the walls are a couple of metres high and there is no hint of a roof.

Beside the church construction, is a partially built school, totally deserted today on account of the public holiday.  Once again there were fantastic panoramic views.  Though Placide had described the landscape of this area as ‘flat’, clearly Rwandans don’t understand this term in the same way as we do.  Though not as steep as the mountains around Byumba in the Northern Province, here the undulating terrain in the Eastern Province was reminiscent of the Derbyshire Dales, with hill and vale superimposed upon each other as far as the horizon.  The less steep gradients did not necessitate the terracing of slopes in this viscidity, but was well suited to the cultivation of coffee.  Indeed, just behind the school was a small coffee planation, largely devoid of coffee beans, as the bushes had clearly been recently harvested.  As we emerged from the plantation a man appeared, who introduced himself as the school’s headmaster, and was keen to show us his office.  The school is only partially complete because former management 10 years ago had run away with school funds.  The foundation of several new classrooms are marked out on the ground, but the government is loathed to provide further finance after this former embesilment of funds.  The school is also struggling with a lack of water.  Although some water tanks have been constructed, they have not been maintained and guttering to feed the tank is damaged.

At lunch time the catechists piled their plates high with the usual variety of dishes, as they always do.  We served ourselves too and those amongst us with strong jaws tackled the chicken legs.  It was humbling to find out that it is only on special occasions when meat is served.  Seth told us that normally they would only eat meat once every two months, yet we have been presented with meat at every parish that we have visited.  No wonder all the church leaders’ plates have been filled to the brim, as they have shared these auspicious meals with us.  Apparently a chicken costs 3000 R Francs (about £3) which of course is a great expense in this society.  

Grace and Paul tried to wish everyone a ‘bon appetite’ at lunch time, by saying the Kinyarwanda phrase ‘mor-dior-hair-way’ but Placide looked confused and asked which language they were speaking!

We arrived back in Byumba in the early evening to a lovely surprise.  One of the elusive 7 distant volcanoes on the Congo border, generally obscured by cloud was visible from the main street, and to it’s left the other 6 volcanoes in the chain could faintly be observed too.  Grace and Isobel had hoped for a beautiful sunset shot, as the sun sank down behind them, but unfortunately before sundown the cloud had enveloped their presence once more.

This evening we were all ready to go to dinner with Reverend Gaudance, when thunder began to roar, the rains lashed down and sheet lightning lit up the darkness.  A tremendous storm lashed down and soon torrents of water were pouring from the guttering and the guest house courtyard was awash with rivulets.  We were awaiting the arrival of Gaudance to show us the way to her home.  Not relishing walking out in this fierce storm and fearing that her house would be down a muddy track, Andy tried to phone her to get an update.  After the normal confusion of mixed messages, it appeared that Gaudance had seen reason and postponed our invitation till Sunday, which was a great relief to us all.   

Hannah and Paul rallied round and created a makeshift meal for us out of their larder suitcase, supplemented by some rather stale sweet bread rolls from the kitchen.  We acted quickly to boil the kettles for warm drinks between the power-cuts.  It is significant however, how much more reliable the power system has been this year, even throughout the storm, compared to last August, when torches were used much more frequently, for very long periods.  It was wonderful to gather in Andy’s warm, dry room whilst the storm raged outside, though those of us whose rooms were further down hill left after our picnic, with some trepidation, knowing that there was at least a 2 inch gap under our bedroom doors and we wondered quite how much water might have pooled inside our rooms.

Thankfully all was dry and we retired to bed.

Good-night.

Grace, Isobel, Hannah, Paul, Jonathan and Andy