Out with PIHers again: Shang Hai, Papyrus, Planet Club

Last night turned out to be another night with the PIH crew. This time Hannah came along. We started at Shang Hai for a decently good Chinese-food dinner, went to Papyrus for a free ice cream (they were having a promotion, and they’re basically the only creamery in town) that was surprisingly good, and ended up at Planet Club which was way cooler than B-Club because it was actually packed with people. They had pool tables (yay!) and a lounge and a dance floor… AND one whole wall of the dance floor is mirrors… so you can stare at yourself while you dance. Heh.

It was a good time. I’m noticing a pattern with the PIH crowd though… dinner, drinks, and dancing. Definitely something I can work with ;-) I also got entertainment as Oliver hit on Hannah ruthlessly. I think that was Emily’s plan all along.

Run-In with the Kids

One of the most iconic images of Africa white people seem to send home are pictures of themselves surrounded by local children. I always thought it was a little kitchy, but then I decided to walk home from town after running a few errands.

Town is full of paved roads and wide sidewalks, but once you go into residential areas, the roads become dirt (and extremely uneven) and little kids run around playing the street playing soccer with balls fashioned from old socks and rags. They look at any white person crazy enough to WALK shouting “umuzungu” and waving their hands furiously. Some speak English, some speak French, but most speak neither and just kind of stare at you in awe.

During the walk along the dusty road to my house, I managed to collect a bunch of kids following behind me. The girls spent most of their time trying to touch my hair and rubbing my skin. The boys just played with my camera. They managed to get a few decent shots, which I’ve posted here.

Genocide Memorial

Today Emily wanted to see the Genocide Memorial that commemorates the Tutsi Genocide in Rwanda in the 90s. Hannah and I went along. I figured it was probably a good idea if I learned a little more about the history of the people here – especially because it’s both so recent and horrifying. Everyone here has vivid memories of the time although talking about them is not common.

The memorial was actually designed by the same people that did the Holocaust memorial in Washington DC.  Here's a picture of it.  It was well designed and quite informative. It was split into three parts – the history leading up to and the actually events of the Genocide in Rwanda, Children as victims, and then other genocides that have occurred in the world. Emily, Hannah and I made it through the first part before we were totally drained, entirely upset, and ready to leave. We decided to do the other two parts another day, when we could handle it.

A little factoid I found interesting was the fact that Tutsi and Hutu differentiation didn’t even exist before the Belgian colonists arrived. Those labels used to refer to the level of income a person had, but was used across all the different tribes living in Rwanda. It was more of a label of class, and was never used as a way to limit a person’s opportunity. People could move from one class to another simply by becoming more or less profitable. According to the memorial, there were somewhere around 12 different “tribes” that lived in Rwanda prior to the Belgian imperialism. When the Belgians came, they made an effort to register people and give out ID cards that differentiated the people according to a Hutu or Tutsi label. Basically everyone that had 10 or more cows was a Tutsi, and everyone else was a Hutu. This all happened years and years before the actual Genocide, but is essentially want laid the groundwork for bad blood and irrational hatred.

The designers of the memorial put a lot of graphic imagery and video interviews of survivors throughout the space, and by the end I was such a mess I couldn’t see any more. When I walked outside, the contrast of the bright sun to my dim mood is probably the only thing that made the rest of the day possible.

Here’s a picture of Emily, Hannah and I. We made valiant efforts to smile…

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.

Salsa Dancing in Africa

Of course I should find a salsa group here in Kigali... why not, right? I found out about it via an ex-pat newsletter that Erik sent me. One of the advertisements was for a salsa event happening at a place called Pasadena. They mentioned a facebook group they had, so I randomly joined it. Thursday night finally came around, and I was unsure of whether or not to go, since I wasn’t going with anyone or didn’t know anyone I could possibly meet there. Erik thought I was crazy to go, and Judy, another house mate, mentioned she knew the Belgian guy who was running it, and said some interesting things about his style and demeanor. So, I was a little wary. But the two degrees of separation kicked in just in time. A girl named Amy sent out a facebook reminder email to the entire facebook group, and what do I find? She’s friends with Laura Noons… yup laura… you came through for me again! ;-) A quick message to Amy, and I suddenly had a name that I knew, and a face to look for in the crowd.

I arrived at Pasadena after a relatively easy cab ride (thank you Sam for speaking English) and walked in to an open-air courtyard with a dance floor in the middle PACKED with salsa dancers. Amy was there (and a little surprised I actually showed up) and get this… a bunch of MIT ballroom dancers were teaching a beginner’s lesson. Yes… MIT ballroom dancers. Once again, my two degrees of separation proved true as I mentioned my sister’s name, and a recognition light bulb went off in their heads. Whoot! Not only were there a LOT of dancers, but there were GOOD ones as well. Within two seconds I was part of the inner dancer’s circle (I only had to dance a few times with Phil, the guy leading the event, who happened to NOT be the Belgian dood, since he’s retired from running the events) and I was set.

It turned out there were several local dancers as well with some real talent. I will say, however, the best part of the whole evening was discovering that there were more MEN that could dance well than women. That NEVER happens.

So yup… I’m set for Thursday nights from now on. Obviously I’m going to become very good friends with a few of the local dancer types (many of whom learned all their salsa skills from watching youtube videos – don’t ask me how). It’s decided.

2 Degrees of Separation

I’ve now talked to a few people here and discovered that everyone seems to know each other. The whole 6 degrees of separation thing is being blown out of the water and I’m beginning to think it’s closer to 2. I sent an email a while back announcing my arrival in Kigali and was pleasantly surprised when Jared, a friend of mine, wrote back with the name of a friend I should meet, Oliver, who happens to be here in Rwanda as well. Well, I shot Oliver an email and he invited me out to dinner with a few of his friends for this Friday night.

Later, I was talking to another friend of mine, Jon, who’s completely disconnected to Jared, and find out that Jon actually worked for Oliver when he was here in Rwanda.

Later still, I was telling Amy, one of the girls that’s living in my house this week, about how I thought it would help if I could get an intern the work on the project with me. She was mentioning how she knew a few people that might be able to help, and that I could probably find an intern through the Orphans of Rwanda organization. Well, goodness me, guess who founded that organization? Oliver. I haven’t yet even met this dude, and I’ve heard his name so much already.

Burundian Drummers

The Burundian Drummers were the closing act of the ceremony. The center had brought them up from Burundi to do a show, and my goodness did we get a show. They opened their act by entering through the audience. They each carried a giant drum on their heads, and as they walked down the aisle, they banged on their drums and danced around, the whole time keeping the giant thing balanced on their head. The leader dude was actually doing high-kicks, and playing the drum with his feet! Yes… it’s true. I was convinced some giant accident was going to happen, but nothing did.

When they arrived on the stage (still playing and dancing away) they took turns lowering the drums to the ground. That’s when I realized those how much those drums weigh. The leader dude actually had to walk around helping people lower them down because they were giant and bulky and HEAVY! Judging from the level of strain these boys were exhibiting, I was guestimating the drums were probably somewhere around 50 or 60 pounds each… minimum.

Then for 30 minutes or so, the drummers did a whole act with different rhythms, acrobatics, chanting, singing… It was crazy. They seemed to be led by one guy that stood in the middle of the semi-circle of drummers and played his own rhythm. I guess based on his hand motions or shouts or something, they all seemed to know exactly what to do when. I was extremely impressed. I kept imaging my days of a cappella singing, and realized we were DEFINITELY never as in tune with each other as these boys were.

I don’t think I blinked for the full half-hour.