The Month of April

April is the anniversary month of the Genocide here in Rwanda.  The plane crash that started it all was on April 6, and within hours thousands of people had been killed.  The first couple months saw an unprecendented death toll.

15 years later, April is the month of rememberance and mourning.  Everything has been cancelled.  Band rehearsal is on indefinite hiatus, salsa classes don't meet for the next few weeks, night clubs are shutting down, taxis are rare, and hardly anyone even walks the streets.  There's pretty much nothing going on.

Tuesday next week will be April 6th.  It's a national "holiday" so no one's supposed to come to work.  On top of that, Hannah's leaving for a week to India, and Erik's peacing out to Zanzibar.  Whaaa!  I'm going to be all alone for almost a week... with NOTHING to do - quite literally.  Well, I guess I'll get a lot work done.

Salsa All the Time

So even though I wasn't making a point of being conspicuous, I've apparently made such a name for myself dancing at Pasadena on Thursday nights, that Christian asked me to help him teach some classes.  Christian is one of the Rwandese dancers who started dancing salsa when it first came to Kigali about 4 years ago.  He's an exceptional leader by any measure, but even more so because he rarely has anyone to learn from.  He spends most of his time trying to invent new moves with his own creativity, watching youtube videos (on an internet connection that hardly makes youtube watching worthwhile) and scouting around for expats that have recently come to Kigali that happen to know salsa.  He and a few of his friends run a tuesday-night salsa class at the local rec center.

Christian asked if he could practice with me in order to try some new moves and learn whatever patterns I had to teach.  He offered that I go to the tuesday class, help some of the other students, and then we'd practice afterwards.  For the past two weeks I've been going.  It's been quite fun, despite the fact that I feel grossly underqualified to be teaching him anything.  We mostly work on simple lifts and dips that he then tries on unwitting partners on Thursday nights.

Anyway, Evette, the Rwandese girl that helps Christian out with the organizational details of the salsa classes asked me if I'd teach a ladies styling class.  Again, I have to appreciate what a small pond I'm in if I am the one they come to for styling tips.  Nonetheless, today was my first ladies styling class.  We worked on arm styling and some basic hip movement.  It was actually quite fun, and I was surprised how eager and willing all the students were.  Christian has also asked that I keep an eye out for any women with special talent that he might recruit for a demonstration group.  THAT would be fun.

A Disgusting Show of Overpriveledged Entitlement

Yes, I'm ashamed to admit it, but today I believe I've out-done myself in terms of laziness and outright overpriveldged behaviour.  Waking up to a house that had litterally been trashed from the inside out, Erik, Giudi and I sat our butts down on the couch we had moved outside for the party and literally have not moved all day.  This wouldn't be such a big deal since we did party quite aggresively last night and because we're all feeling the effects of it today, but we're all rather ashamed of ourselves because Emmanuel, our weekend guard, has been up and at it all morning.  He cleaned up all the beer bottles left all over the front yard.  He's picked up all the bits of balloons and washed away the broken glass.  He's even cleaned out the dead coolers that were left half-filled with ice last night.  Then he started on the floor.  The couch we're camped out on sits on a balcony that is floored in tile and covered in mud from the constant flow of traffic last night.  Emmanuel has crossed in front of us 100 times at this point, mopping the tiles over and over, pushing murky water onto the driveway every time.

We called 'Sol e Luna' for pizzas since they deliver and won't require us to move.  We're starving, but can't cook breakfast.  There's nothing to cook anyway.

At least my hair still looks hot from last night.  Mike and Erik agree that I might actually be one of the few white girls who could look good in dreads.  Oh, if only I could grow them without worrying about little things like keeping a job...

Greece/Grease Night

Last night my house threw a ridiculously giant party.  We'd been working on it for weeks.  Erik had a dorky spreadsheet that he passed around with various amounts of beer bottles in various brands and various sizes and costs, as well as options for entertainment and catering.  I was even nominated to create the "flyer" that was sent out electronically to our entire Rwanda-based email list.  We picked the theme Greece/Grease, and said people could do whatever they wanted with the theme, as long as they had a story or explanation.  

A lot of people came in Togas - I guess that was the easy option, and by far the most do-able here in Rwanda - but we did have a "grease monkey" (mechanic) a bunch of 50s-esque outfits from the musical Grease, a few greek gods, and even a greek flag or two.  I was hoping someone would show up as an olive or Ouza or something, but I suppose that's asking a little much.

Erik showed up in a toga outfit he'd acquired in London last week.  Hannah and I went to the Novotel to get our hair done and showed up as Sandra Dee and Medusa respectively.  Neither the DJ nor the Brochette maker showed up as anything in particular, but then again, we paid them to show up.

Hannah's greatest artwork to date was displayed proudly on my arms and ankles.  Thanks Hannah!

Probably the most interesting aspect of the party was the fact that between the four of us, we only knew about 20% of the people that showed up to the party.  Who knows how the word spread so widely, but my goodness did a lot of people show up for some free booze and some music.  No matter... we all had fun.

For more pictures, go here.

Kigali's Diva

So last night marked my emergence as a bona-fide diva in Kigali.  Okay, so maybe not completely, but having already made my name in the city as the girl who dances salsa (more on that later), it was a rather thrilling experience to now also sing in a band.  That's right, you read right.  I officially sing lead vocals in a band.  Hee hee!!

A few weeks ago, I went with Erik to the Goat & Gorilla for the first time.  Only recently opened, the pub sits inside the British Embassy, serves only Mutzig and Amstel beers, and only opens on Thursday evenings for cocktail hour.  Surprisingly, (or not) the pub has become a huge hit, and a standing thursday after-work event for anyone who can get an invite (since it's inside the Embassy, one either needs a British passport, or a willing escort with a British passport).  As part of the entertainment there's a cover band that plays.  Occasionally they even sound good.

Anyway, the band was trying to get some audience participation, and offered up a free beer to anyone who wanted to sing a song with them.  With the not-so-necessary coaxing from Erik and Gary, I suddenly found myself up there singing Shania Twain and quasi regretting my earlier willingness to sing.  Despite my meager performance, I did receive my free beer and a rather over-enthusiastic response from the audience.  The following week I was approached by Richard (the guy who's the organizational energy behind the band) and offered the opportunity to rehearse and sing with the band on a regular basis.  Heh!  Who knew.

And so this week I attended rehearsals on both Tuesday and Wednesday and yesterday we had our first pre-rehearsed show together.  Granted, I only did four songs since we didn't really have time to rehearse more than that, but it was a good time nonetheless.  I even managed to get them to do 'Fever', so yes, I can officially check off my Bucket List "Sing 'Fever' in Front of an Audience."  Yay!

Anyway, since we have the standing gig at the Goat & Gorilla, it's a great way for me to get some performance experience without the stakes being all that high.  Apparently this band (I still haven't got their official name) also does gigs around town once in a while, so when that happens I'll hopefully be prepared.

St. Patrick's Day Ball

So this weekend was a real ex-pat experience.  Until now, I've had many occasions to feel how ridiculously small the ex-pat community is... everyone knows everyone.  Or so it feels.  This weekend, however, I had quite the opposite experience.  I was absolutely stunned by how many people there really are.

St. Patrick's day was last Tuesday.  Of course the Irish community here in Kigali (I believe there are 12 or 13) thought it would wildly fitting to throw a giant St. Patrick's Day ball, and were pleasantly surprised to discover their am

bassador decided to make an appearance in the country to coincide with the event.

For weeks and weeks they have been postering and plugging the evening everywhere you went. At the Goat & Gorilla (a pub at the English Embassy that opens only once a week for happy hour), I was offered tickets by every third person I talked to.

Despite the exorbitant price (more than $60), Hannah and I were eventually convinced to join Erik's group of friends.  They had a few extra seats at their table, and we eager to not look lame.  

Not too much coaxing was needed to get Mike to come along too (Mike is Hannah's flame as of late).

The evening was "black tie, or whatever you can get" so people had a wide range of outfits on.  Kate and Sara got their dresses made by one of the tailors in town, but since Hannah and I didn't commit ourselves until the last minute, we had to make do with the stuff we already had in our closets.  Ok, so I actually planned ahead a wee bit and spent last Sunday sunning myself by the pool at Novotel (a hotel walking distance from my house) in order to have hot legs for the party.  My dress, after all, is a leg dress.

The event itself was very first-world.  Held in a hotel, the lobby was converted into an art gallery full of art from our favorite artist friends.  Upstairs, there was a cocktail hour outside the main ballroom during which we were served Guinness mixed with cheap champagne.  Yeah, I didn't get it either... but we had to appreciate the fact that there was Guinness at all.  Cocktail hour was followed by a buffet style dinner that boasted food so good I probably tucked away 15 pounds of it.  Then there were speeches upon speeches I hardly paid attention to, and finally an Irish cover band played for hours and hours and we all got to dance the night away.

What astounded me more than the fact that I got to have cheesecake, or that the band was actually good, or that we got to have free wine (almost) all night was the fact that giant ballroom was jam packed with ex-pats, and I only knew about 12 of them.  I felt like all my conceptions about what comprised the ex-pat community here was totally off base.  Even Erik was stunned by the shear volume of people he had never seen before.  Turns out Kigali really is the trendy spot to be for development workers.

For more photos, go here.

Trivia Night

Oliver challenged Erik and I to a trivia night, so we got together a team of non-PIHers and set out to Torero for their weekly wednesday trivia game.  Having never been to Torero, I was pleasantly surprised.  Sitting below the street, the little bar/cafe boasts warm ambient lighting, a small stage (that incidentally had a solo guitarist/singer playing when we arrived), walls decked out with art from our favorite local artists, and not-entirely-ridiculously-expensive draught beer.

Trivia night has apparently quite the draw, because the place was packed, and about 9 teams competed.  Erik had put together a team of a few of the Blairs (Brits who are here working for Tony Blair), a dude from DFID, and of course Hannah and I.  Hannah brough along her new flame Mike as well.

And so trivia night began.  The prize for winning is a round of beers on the house, and since we decided to call ourselves "And in Third Place," Erik offered to get us all a round if we actually did come in 3rd.  Of course the questions were absolutely impossible.  One we did manage to get was "The word that is used to describe a group of owls" (Parliament), and another "The animal with the largest eye" (Giant squid).  One we got 75% of, but not completely was "The word 'Golf' used to be an acronym for what?" (Gentlemen Only, Ladies Forbidden).

Anyway, as luck would have it, the we and the PIHers tied for 2nd place.  We didn't win, nor did we really get 3rd, so no free beers for us.  Boo.  Maybe next time.