Dinner with PIHers, Bel Aire, B-Club

Last night I finally went out with Oliver, the man I’d heard so much about via my multiple avenues of 2-degree separations. He invited me to dinner with a bunch of his friends from Partners in Health. They are all stationed in posts around the country, but come into Kigali once in a while to party and get much-needed resources.

We ate at Papyrus, which is one of the fanciest places in town, and a total expat hangout. They double as a creamery and specialize in ice cream, yogurt, etc. They serve Italian food that’s definitely cream-heavy, but quite good. They’re also notorious for being exceptionally high-priced. Boo.

Dinner was cool. It was good to meet some other people. These guys are mostly Americans and were younger, on average, than the crowd I’d met so far. Most of them are in Med School or doing year-long fellowships as a break from university. I even met two architects who are designing a new building for PIH. I couldn’t help but think of you, Maya, again.

I also met a girl named Emily who happens to know Hannah – my room mate that moved in Thursday night – from a previous gig in Tanzania. Oh the joys of 2-degrees.

After dinner we drove back to the PIH house which is even more giant that my house and used as a half-way house for the PIHers all over the country when they need to stay in the city for a night or two. There were mattresses and rooms all over the place. Oliver tried inventing ways to entertain himself with the infinite mattresses. Mattress-surfing down the stairs was even suggested.

Eventually we decided we didn’t want the night to be over, and went out for drinks at a place called Sphinx Bel Aire which was a 4 second walk from the house. The place was very Carribean – it was basically a big barn made of bamboo-like wood. They played random music that was reggae-heavy, shined a strobe light on an empty dance floor, and served us Waragi with Fanta (which is sort of like a gin and tonic… sort of).

Finally Emily rallied, and got a sub-set of us to go to a club called B-Club. I was a little surprised when they charged a cover of 5000 RWF, which is close to $10. Ack! Well, it immediately became obvious why when we walked up the stairs, and I found myself in NYC swank. Plush leather couches, red and black lighting, low glass tables, a DJ booth, bar tenders in bow ties… the place was like a cut-out from a designer magazine that had been plopped down in the middle of Africa.

Well, I got over the un-authenticity of the place soon enough as rockin’ 80s music came on, and I lost myself to dancing.