A pedestrian's life—how much is it worth?

OK, without a car, what is life like as a pedestrian? In some places in the world, motorists seem to be intent on running you down—as if doing so gave them points in a video game, for example. However, here in Kigali I wouldn't say this is the case, but the drivers do get awfully close to you, sometimes too close for comfort. Occasionally the cars and motorcycles seem to be heading straight in your direction, and then at the last second swerve to miss you.

When I learned how to drive—yes, many years ago this was—I was taught that you give pedestrians a wide berth. Get as far from them as you can, but still remain safely in your lane. That way, if something unexpected occurs, you as a driver can react in time. Here, there is no such philosophy. Cars and motorcycles will turn sharply in front of you as a pedestrian. They will keep backing no matter what may be behind them. If you are crossing the street, they will act as though you are not there. Especially is this hazardous when trying to cross a traffic circle—or "rond-point," as we say in French—because you don't know if the cars are continuing around the circle or exiting. (Turn signals are often meaningless.) Or even doing something such as backing up in the circle....

So, let's just face it—as a pedestrian you are the invisible person!

The main roads are, of course, paved (known as "tarmacs"). But they are outnumbered by the many dirt paths. So one needs to get accustomed to (1) getting dust kicked up by the wind and vehicles, and (2) mud puddles.

This means that a path looking like this during the dry season . . .

. . . becomes this during the rainy season . . .

So if you are wearing nice shoes, be prepared to have them ruined.

And I have noticed that unlike in Central and South America, where you can find boys on the street who will clean and shine your shoes for a small charge, no such occupation exists here in Rwanda. You would think that with jobs being hard to find, someone would get the idea of shining shoes for a living. But, no, apparently such a job is considered too menial. So instead, you can pay to weigh yourself on a scale. I would think having your shoes shined, however, is far more needed than knowing your weight.

Ah, but there is a plus to being a pedestrian. You get to see interesting things happen on the street.

For instance, the other day we were preaching near Kimironko. (Note: That was the day I walked more than 10 miles. Could barely get out of bed the next morning. Far cry from Sacramento preaching, eh?) We spotted this incident across the street: An umuzungu got one of his car tires stuck in a hole. He was immediately surrounded by a crowd of locals, who were eventually successful in pushing the car out. He gave them 4000Rwf, which they promptly fought over. (Give me the money, I deserve it! ... No, you don't, I did more work than you did!)

Ha! Got it all recorded on my tablet. This would never happen in the U.S.!

Chicken dinner?

Last week, in the compound where I live, there were not one, but two roosters running around. One had a rope tied around its leg; it looked like it was tethered at some point in time, but now is free. So the guess was that it--no, we can safely say "he"--had escaped from somewhere in the neighborhood. Anyway, these roosters were crowing several times a minute, day and night. I learned that roosters crow to establish territorial rights. Usually they pick the most irritating time to do this, such as at 4:00am, just when you are comfortably situated in bed, but in the case of these two, it was a nonstop chorus. Aside from using a good set of earplugs, there is nothing to stop roosters doing what comes naturally, short of . . . well, you can figure that out.

Well, this week, the crowing seemed fainter, so apparently they are still in the neighborhood but someone, in a fit of frustration, moved them to another yard. I don't know what the life span of a rooster is--whether naturally or unnaturally--but no doubt this current situation cannot go on for very much longer. Then, I can finally get some sleep!

Speaking of chicken, I have noted that here in Rwanda it is one of the more expensive meats. Why is this, I wonder? I was told that chickens are used for egg production and not for meat. You can't have it both ways. Not only is the meat expensive, but it is also frequently dry and tough. So it's usually best to stick to what the locals do best: beef and goat brochettes, and steaks. (And fish is not bad, since there is Lake Kivu.)

Chinese-language class update: It seems that no one (including the circuit overseer) here has heard of the application process for approving language class students. I happened to have a copy of the application in my laptop, so I sent it to the elders who are coordinating the class. It will take time for the students to complete the applications, not to mention the time taken by the respective service committees to provide their comments on the applications, so I imagine we will not be starting the class anytime before the middle of November.

Another reason for that time frame: The South Africa branch does not have pinyin Bibles and Bible Teach books. So we need to order these from the U.S. This will take at least two months.

Finally, there is a list of equipment we will need for the class, including projector, screen, whiteboards, easels, etc. I don't know about the availability of some of these items (since this is Africa), so again, time is needed!

Weather notes: Friday, September 5, was the coldest day I have experienced here in Kigali. It rained almost the whole day and reached a high of only 64°F (18°C). Then, on Friday, September 19, we had hail!

Reminds me of Northern California, in early winter! So much for tropical Africa!

Cultural differences

After being here for six months, I have noticed some characteristics of Rwandan culture that differ from those in the West. What are some of these differences?

1. Inability to say no to a request.

West: If you are not available or not interested, you directly say so.

Rwanda: It is difficult for people to say "no" to a request for an appointment, even if they are unable or unwilling to keep the appointment. Therein can be the problem. People want to please you, so they agree to your request. Then, at the appointed time, they don't show up. This can be far more disagreeable than if they had simply told you "no" to begin with. For the same reason, it can be challenging to determine who shows genuine interest in our message, because everyone will tell you, "Yes, I want to study the Bible."

2. Inviting oneself over to someone's house.

West: Generally frowned on. It would be the equivalent of saying, "Let me come over and eat your food and enjoy your hospitality. You should be generous to me." Or perhaps, like poor people or kids on the street saying, "Give me money." So the way you enjoy someone's company is you invite them over to your house, not the other way around.

Rwanda: Such a gesture is not viewed this way. When someone says, "So when are you going to invite me over to your place?" it is considered as a mark of friendship. People feel that they show they care about you by visiting you. So it is just a matter of your telling them when it would be convenient for them to come. Just their presence is all that is desired, no gifts necessary.

3. Showing up at someone's house without advance notice. 

West: Feelings about this can differ from country to country, but generally speaking, it is best to communicate beforehand before coming over, even if it's just to drop off or pick up something briefly. Who knows, the house may be in disarray, or the host may not be dressed, etc. So better to avoid an embarrassing situation and call in advance.

Rwanda: No problem! And if we happen to be eating dinner, you are more than welcome to join us!

4. No equivalent of the word "please."

West: Saying "please" when making a request is considered a hallmark of politeness and good breeding. 

Rwanda: When you want something from someone, just ask for it. You don't need to say "please," because such a word does not even exist in Kinyarwanda. Though this may be viewed by a Westerner as too up front, the fact is that Rwandans use their tone of voice and facial expressions to convey their graciousness in making the request.

5. If you suggest going somewhere to eat, you pay for everyone.

West: Though someone may expressly offer to pay for others, most people understand the concept of everyone covering his/her own meal. This should be clearly understood beforehand, because there's nothing quite as stressful as being invited by someone and during the entire meal you are wondering, "Is he paying, or am I supposed to pay for my own meal?" especially if you don't have enough money to do so.

Rwanda: Yes! And thanks for inviting me!

Note: I've never tried this, so I don't know how a Rwandan person would react if you said, "Could you invite me to lunch?"

Additional note: In Chinese culture, the way you phrase the suggestion determines whether you will be treating or everyone pays for his own meal. If you say "我请你吃饭" (I invite you to eat), that means you will be paying. But if you say "我跟你一起吃饭，好吗？" (You and I eat together, OK?), then it is understood that each person pays separately. The key word here is 请 (invite). If you don't understand this slight distinction, you may be on the hook for a lot of meals!

Burundi

Several months back, two brothers from the neighboring country of Burundi were visiting Rwanda. So I seized that opportunity to get their contact information, because you never know when it may come in handy.

Sure enough, when the time came to leave the country in order to reenter Rwanda for another 3 months, I decided to skip over into Bujumbura, Burundi. (Try saying that 10 times fast.) Three of us, David, Jean de Dieu, and I took a Volcano bus from Nyabugogo bus park at 6:00am on Saturday, August 30.

Rwandan brothers had told me beforehand that Burundi is not safe, its political situation is volatile, you have to watch out for prostitutes, etc. OK, so when you visit a place bracing yourself for the worst, the reality can only be better, right?

It is true that Burundi, situated on the eastern border of DR Congo and considered one of the 5 poorest countries in the world, has had quite a turbulent history, much like Rwanda's. Most people do not know that a year before the Rwandan genocide, Burundi had a genocide of its own (as well as an earlier genocide in 1972). Yes, this area of Central Africa has been fraught with political and ethnic tension. It is a real shame, because Burundi is an often overlooked gem of natural beauty--not to mention that the people are hospitable almost to a fault.

The information I received from the Burundian embassy here in Kigali regarding visas was different from what I read online. And even the sources online were not consistent with each other. Was the information dated 4 years ago, or more recently? Things can change in a heartbeat here in Africa. So I decided that I would take my chances and try to get an entry visa at the border, rather than obtain it beforehand. Many visa issues are not clear-cut and are left to the discretion (or the mood) of either the border authorities or immigration. So sometimes you can get a favorable result by using what could be called "friendly charm." (DEFINITELY NO BRIBING) Of course, my two companions did not need a visa to enter Burundi, because they are Rwandan.

My previous venture out of Kigali was in a westerly direction. This time, we went south, through the city of Butare, also known as Huye. The scenery was similar to what I had seen before--beautiful green, rolling hills, dotted with farms and cattle.

The first difficulty we faced: the day we were traveling was umuganda, the last-Saturday-of-the-month community service day. (See previous post on this subject.) Even though we left Kigali at 6:00am, which was OK since umuganda doesn't begin until 7:30am, at which time vehicles are not supposed to be on the road, the problem arose when we hit two checkpoints later that morning. At the first, we stopped in a line of other buses while the driver got out and left us wondering how long we would be stuck here. When he returned after 25 minutes, there was some conversation about how he explained to the police that our bus group was attending the funeral of one of the passenger's relatives, and so we had to leave right away. Apparently, the police bought this explanation--even with the fact that there was a Chinese guy in among a group of Africans--and the driver promptly sped off, trying to get away before the authorities noticed the large pile of stuff under blankets at the back of the bus (which turned out, upon unloading on arrival, to be household goods). Some in the bus thought this was very entertaining--and expedient.

But it wasn't over. At the second checkpoint, the driver wasn't as successful. This time we had to wait an hour and 10 minutes until umuganda was officially finished. So what normally should have been a 7-hour trip (6 hours+1 hour at the border) turned into over 9 hours. Remind me never to travel on umuganda again.

Can't move!

At the border, I got an exit stamp from Rwanda, then on the Burundi side, I paid my $40 for 3 days and got a receipt for the visa. This receipt is critical to keep, because you have to show it upon exiting the country. I was hoping to stay for 5 days and pay the extra $10 for overstaying 2 days, either at immigration or at the border. (More on this later.)

Welcome to Burundi!

Well, scenery-wise, the Burundian side looked pretty much like the Rwandan side, that is, until we started our descent into the capital, Bujumbura. Then, it became noticeably more hot and humid, with a big-city atmosphere. We pulled into Bujumbura after 3:30pm and were immediately met by Jean-Eudes, a brother in the Bujumbura English congregation.

David, Jean de Dieu, Jean-Eudes

We promptly went to town, to a lunch buffet (why not?) for the first decent meal of the day.

Then, we walked around town, passed the Kingdom Hall, and found our accommodations....

Downtown Bujumbura

Le Marché Central (Central Market) de Bujumbura

La Salle du Royaume (Kingdom Hall)

This is where two of us spent the first night.
It is 2 minutes from Bethel and 2 minutes from the Kingdom Hall.

Sunday morning, August 31, at 8:30am was the meeting of the Bujumbura English congregation. This congregation is only 2 years old and has 38 publishers. It is the only English congregation in the entire country. There are also a few French and Swahili congregations in Bujumbura, but congregations in most of the country use Kirundi, the local language. So in this respect, Bujumbura is like Kigali. I did notice that, generally, French is stronger in Burundi than in Rwanda, but English is less strong.

Yvan, Suzie, Régis

After the meeting, we abandoned all notions of going in field service (though the intentions were there), and instead went to...

...the BEACH!!

Ah, yes, the beauty of Bujumbura is that it borders Lake Tanganyika. Based on my prodigious research, which consisted of one quick look at Wikipedia, this lake is (1) the second largest freshwater lake in the world by volume, (2) the second deepest lake, and (3) the world's longest freshwater lake. It borders four countries: Tanzania, DR Congo, Burundi, and Zambia.

Once you get out of the city, all stress miraculously melts away. The water is warm and inviting. That evening, the two- to three-foot waves reminded me of . . . the ocean! I hadn't had the experience of swimming in a lake that was churned up by wind to that extent.

It's interesting that no matter where you go in the world, the human reaction to large bodies of water is the same. People, both adults and kids, have such a good time in the water. It is evident that Jehovah made us to enjoy this part of his creation.

Wow, what a day! That evening I moved to the house of a couple, Tobi and Jenny. They are need-greaters from Germany and are serving in the French field.

Tobi and Jenny

That night I slept very well. But then came Monday . . .

September 1, despite being the beginning of a new service year, turned out to be one of those days to be long remembered, or maybe best forgotten. At first I wasn't sure whether I should go to immigration and get the visa extension, or try to get it at the border. Someone convinced me to go to immigration. So I was dropped off there around 10:00am--and incidentally, it is far from city center at this out-of-the-way location not clearly marked (but maybe for good reason)--and entered what seemed like a zoo. Finally, I had a conversation with an official in French, wherein he told me I had to provide photocopies of certain pages of my passport, as well as my visa receipt. I thought, oh no, I left the visa receipt at home, so I paid 4000Bfr for a taxi and went to Bethel thinking, maybe I can take a tour before going home for the receipt. So I met Jean de Dieu at 11:00am at Bethel, where we were told that, sorry, we were too late for a tour, and could we come back at 1:00pm? Sure! At this point, I realized, to my chagrin, that I did have the visa receipt all along in my pocket. (Yes, I was fairly brain-dead during much of this trip. How else do you explain pulling out 6000Bfr for a bottle of water that costs only 600Bfr?) So we paid another 4000Bfr for a taxi ride back to immigration. When we approached the window for étrangers at 11:45am, the official told us, sorry, they were closing for lunch and we would have to come back at 2:00pm.

OK! This is Africa! We might as well eat something, since Bethel was at lunch, and I decided at that point that I was not going back to immigration a third time and spend more on taxi rides and experience the joy of being turned away once again.

Well...all four of us made it to Bethel about 3:00pm. We had a great tour, as is usually the case.

David, Benjamin (Translation Dept.),
Géraud (tour guide, Translation Dept.), Jean-Eudes

After a day filled with productive activities--OK, maybe visiting Bethel was the only one that could be considered such--and due to the cancellation of a dinner invitation, we decided to head off to the beach to get one last swim.

Then, that evening, I had a misadventure to top off the day. Unfortunately, due to circumstance I had to walk alone back to my accommodations. Because it was hot, it was dark, I was tired, and I was in a strange city where I had walked this route only once going the other direction, I made a wrong turn and got hopelessly lost. So I flagged down a three-wheeled taxi, showed him the address, and he also got lost. He asked a number of people walking on the street, one of whom hopped in. I called Tobi, who was trying to explain to the driver in French where he lived, but the driver wasn't getting it (probably because the driver didn't speak French). Then, my phone ran out of units. Finally, we found the place, but once inside the house I realized that an envelope with money was missing from my pocket. Either I was pickpocketed or the envelope fell out in the taxi. Logistically, I think it was the latter. Anyway, the result is the same: I lost a fair amount of money, including my visa receipt. I normally would not carry that much money, but since I was dealing with immigration (although that was not to be), you never know how much they will ask for. Thus, you have to be prepared. So, hey, Burundi, you got my money anyway! Use it to improve the streets, or get police who will do their job, or maybe do something about these power cuts that last for days....

On Tuesday, David and Jean de Dieu took the bus back to Kigali. Since my current Rwanda visa expired on Tuesday, I had to make sure I was out of the country on that day and therefore arranged to take the bus on Wednesday. So Tuesday morning I decided I wasn't going out of the house, at least alone (understandably), and anyway I wanted to study for the meeting that evening.

Jean-Eudes picked me up at 3:00pm because he had some Bible studies. The first study was not available, so we went into town to locate some Chinese people. We met a Chinese doctor who was polite but kept mentioning the name of another man who, he said, was more interested in the Bible than he was. So we got the name and phone number of this other person, and someone will try to communicate with him.

Then, we found three shops downtown with Chinese owners. As it turned out, they are related to each other, and all said they were Christian. So I managed to place some jw.org tracts with them and had interesting discussions. One of them has the Chinese Bible Teach book at home, given to him by a Burundian couple.

By the way, a German brother in the Bujumbura English congregation is conducting two Bible studies with Chinese men. Apparently, they both know at least a little English. One of them usually attends the English meetings every Sunday, but at present he is in China. So unfortunately I didn't get to meet him.

After we finished the Chinese calls, it was time to go to the meeting. Some of the brothers in the English congregation expressed a desire to learn Chinese. So I promised to send electronically some Chinese-language instructional materials. Perhaps they are not in a position to start a Chinese group (since the congregation is small to begin with), but some time down the road, that may be possible!

The next day, Wednesday, I was taken to the bus station. I had borrowed some money because I thoroughly expected that on exiting Burundi they would make me pay for another visa--since I couldn't produce the visa receipt--plus the penalty for staying two extra days, totaling $50. But at the border--surprise! The official asked me, did you pay for a visa? I said, yes, but the receipt was stolen (volé). So he pulled out a large ledger, recorded my statistics, and at the far column wrote "volé." Then, he stamped my passport and that was it! I didn't have to pay anything! Even the penalty for overstaying the visa! Thank goodness something went right with the authorities for a change!

But then came the Rwandan entry side. The first question the official asked me was, so I notice you've been in Rwanda for 6 months, are you working in Rwanda? I said no. Then he asked, this contact name on your entry card, is this a Rwandese person? I said yes. Then he asked, so where are you working? I said, I'm not working, I'm living on my savings from the U.S. He looked a bit doubtful, but then said, OK, since your visa expired yesterday, I'm giving you a new one. Stamp, end of interview. I'm free to go at last!

Once out of Bujumbura, the temperature dropped 10 degrees and I could breathe again. (Ah, the blessing of altitude.) The rest of the trip was uneventful. We pulled into Kigali after 7 hours.

So before this post turns into a full-length novel, let me just say that I am very grateful to have my feet back on familiar turf. And you will have to guess which country I will be visiting when I have to exit Rwanda in another 3 months (no, it is not Burundi). Never a dull moment!