But, this was the scariest moto ride ever. The driver did not give me a helmet, which they don't always do for short distances. This was a considerably short distance from the house to the Virunga Express bus station. But I would have gladly taken the helmet! This mo-ped was junk. It was super old, the seat was crappy, and there were not proper pegs for my feet. And normally you don't need to hold onto anything (aka the driver) because physics just does its thing and you stay on. But the whole time I wanted to grab onto this guy because I thought for sure I'd fall clean off the back. The stretch of road is in poor condition too, so there were lots of ups and downs as we navigated around/over potholes, not to mention the need to dodge people, bikes, and other moto's.
I prayed Hail Mary's the entire ride. And She got me there safely! My leg muscles were very fatigued from subconsciously gripping the seat with my thighs. Oh man.
Joselyne called in my seat reservation, so I had to go into the office and pay. I did that without too much difficulty. I had to ask several questions though, but now I understand the system. The bus ride was pretty enjoyable. Its three and a half hours of impressive views, endless green rolling hills, and several scenery changes as you pass from rural village into slightly more developed towns. I sat next to a man who was the director of a primary school, so we discussed all things education-related. It was very good.
Grace, Clementine's friend whom I met when she came to visit the U.S. before I left, came to pick me up from the Virunga Station in Kigali. I was really grateful for my traveling companion's kindness. He waited with me for about 15 minutes until Grace arrived (we got there earlier than I had expected). I was really happy for that. I would have probably been fine just waiting there by myself. But its difficult to keep your eyes peeled for someone who you're pretty sure you remember what she looks like, while you have tons of guys come up to you to sell you newspapers, phone cards, world maps, or to just ask your whereabouts. So I was happy to have the solid presence of a wise African man to keep the salesmen at bay. I noticed Grace right away, and she noticed me too! Yay for not missing each other! She drives a pretty nice SUV. I knew that she was a successful businesswoman, because #1, she came to the United States, and #2, she was dressed very nicely when I met her back home. But I figured she worked in an office for some company or something, so I really didn't want to disturb her workday. When she agreed to come pick me up at noon on a Friday, I thought ok, since it’s a Friday its probably not a big deal. She also agreed to take me to Immigration to apply for my visa, which I thought was extremely nice, and I was very grateful for that. Well, she actually owns a small quincaillerie, or a hardware store. It’s a very small shop, much like all other small businesses in Kigali. The city is filled with big complexes of small shops that people rent out. Usually these complexes are three stories high with shops on all three stories. So you drive past big stretches of windows, signs, and doors. Grace's shop is in a small 1-story strip-mall, next to another hardware store and a shop that seemed to sell random household items. So she is her own boss, and its no problem at all for her to leave the shop in charge of the woman who is working at the desk and come fetch me.
So we first go to Immigration. I present my prepared documents. Let me preface this by saying that before I left for Rwanda, I did a fair amount of research on what I need for a visa. The info on the internet was not very precise. But what I found was that you can stay for 90 days without a visa. After emailing the Sisters and some previous volunteers, everyone said that you should just go, and towards the end of your 90 days, you'll go apply for your visa in Kigali. So I downloaded the visa application, typed up a request letter explaining my whereabouts, and fortunately I had one passport photo with me from home. So I went with all this stuff, and my passport and my 25,000 RWF. It was 12:30pm.
Well, there were several other people waiting in line, and they all had taken numbers. There were signs on the wall that said "Please take a number" but I did not see where these numbers were coming from. After asking somebody, I finally learned that they stop giving out numbers at noon. Oh good. Outside the building there are all kinds of flyers posting tons of info, and yep, there it says that they accept visa applications from 7am till noon, and you come back to pick up your green cards between 2pm and 5pm. Thanks for putting that on the website and saving me this trouble. Hm.
This is a really little office. There's a small waiting area, and a desk with two people staffing the place. One of them is helping people, and there is a girl doing some stuff at her computer. So after consulting with Grace about what I should do now that I've missed the cut-off by a half an hour, I go ask this girl some questions. I start explaining in English, but she asks me if I speak French, so I try my best to explain in French. She was very nice, but really didn't have answers. The other guy is the head honcho, so it turned out he was the one I needed to talk to. But the girl took my papers, read through them for a few minutes, asked me very nicely and curiously if I'm a Sister and what kind of work I do with them, etc. Then after asking Mr. Head Honcho a couple things, she tells me that volunteers need to pay 50,000 RWF's. Hm, ok. I had no idea there was such a thing as a volunteer visa. Again, thanks for putting that on the website. The visa application that I found online only had 4 types listed, and they all cost 25,000 RWF's. I also assumed that I could probably pay with traveler's checks, or at least with a credit card. Luckily I brought 25,000 RWFs just in case. But she tells me I have to pay double that. I asked the girl if I can pay with traveler's checks, and she tells me that they don't take money at the Immigration Office. You must first go pay at the Rwanda Revenue Authority, then they give you a receipt, and you bring the receipt. So I ask the girl if I can go pay it now, and bring the receipt back today. After learning that they stop accepting applications at noon, I was afraid she'd say that I'd need to return on Monday. But she said yes. Now I feel bad that Grace needs to drive me across town to the RRA. S he takes me, and even waits in line with me for about an hour! There are lots of other people there paying parking tickets, license plate registration, random fines, and all kinds of other things. This is another small office with a few rows of benches for the people who are waiting, and again there are only 2 people working behind the panel of plastic that separates us from the stash of cash. I decide that I should first just try to pay the 25,000 with the RWF's that I brought, and if they say that a visa costs 50,000, I'll ask if I can pay with traveler's checks. I finally get up to the window, give them my visa application, they read it over, and accept my 25,000. Yes!
Back we go to the Immigration office. Its like 2pm by now, and I see the number-dispensing machine. They hid it at noon so people would stop taking them. So I grab one, and Mr. Head Honcho calls me up when its my number. He looks at my papers for quite some time, then starts hashing out to me all the documents that I'm missing. He speaks very good English, but is a very matter-of-fact, this-is-how-it-is kind of man. A prototype "government official." So he tells me that even though I'm not earning money, I am doing work. I need a work permit. In order to apply for an employee's visa, I need a resume, a signed contract with the school where I teach, a letter of recommendation from my "employer," official college transcripts, and a police clearance form from the authorities back home. Eeeeegads. I do not have any of these things. And a few of these things will take at least a month to arrive here. Again, I could have planned this before I left if you had only PUT IT ON THE WEBSITE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Sorry…It was just very frustrating to experience the inefficiency with which many operations work in Africa. So he tells me that I will need to contact the director of visa issues to explain that I am waiting for documents to arrive from America, and that I will need to pay for a temporary visa while I wait. And oh by the way, you do need to pay 50,000 RWF's, so go back to the RRA and get another receipt for 25,000. See you Monday.
I explained all this to Grace, and then called Sr. Gisele, who tells me to call Sr. Lumiere (one of the Sisters in Kigali). Sr. Lumiere tells me to come to their house and she'll help me straighten this all out. Now I really feel bad because I was going to stay at Grace's house this weekend, but instead she's just chauffeuring me around! And I won't even be staying at her place, at least not tonight. Well, its about 3pm and neither of us have eaten lunch. So we go to the Simba café before heading to the Sister's house. Simba is a very modern supermarket, with a chic, ultra-European café. I could have sworn I was in Paris. I ate the most delicious ham and cheese melt ever. Grace takes me to the Sisters' and tells me to call her tomorrow and let her know if I would prefer to just stay at the Sisters or come to her house.
It was soooo good to arrive at their house, it really felt like home. I had stayed there a few weeks ago for Salesian Family Day, and "my room" was still exactly as I had left it. And the Sisters were so welcoming, they (except for one) had no idea I was coming, I just showed up! But they were so loving, and they gave me food and made me feel very comfortable. After dinner, Sr. Lumiere and I worked for a few hours typing up letters and contracts, calling here and there, arranging things to be sent to Sr. Gisele for her signature and school seal, working out all kinds of details. She is an extremely resourceful, humble woman who I'm sure had many other important things to do to prepare for the upcoming school year. But here she is making time to help me.
Well after Friday's hassles with the visa, I actually had a fantastic weekend in Kigali! I spent most of Saturday with Aimable, Clementine's brother. We spoke on the phone a bit around Christmas, and he said he was very happy to hear from me and that he would love to show me around Kigali whenever I will be there. So I called him up, and he took me everywhere! I saw the whole city, and we ate lunch again at the Simba Café. We walked around in the supermarket also…it was interesting. There are a few aisles of foodstuffs, then there are kitchen utensils and appliances, then there are tv's, radios, treadmills, cabinets, and shelving units. There is a small clothing section as well. And then there's the bakery, deli, and produce section. All that jammed into a room a fraction of the size of your typical Pick–n-Save. We then drove around more to see the stadium and the Université Libre de Kigali campus where we picked up two girls whom he used to work with. They drove around with us for a while and we stopped to have a Fanta at one of their houses.
She lives in a really nice house on the outskirts of the city.
It was the first house I have been in here that has a tiled floor. It was an awesome day out and about, and my tour guide was excellent! He was so nice, I can't even describe it.
Sunday was also fantastic. I went to my first English Mass in three months! It was at the cathedral, St. Michael's. This is not a very ornate church, as most cathedrals are, but instead is pretty simple with the usual bare concrete floor, exposed steel support beams for the ceiling, huge windows to allow the sun to do its thing, and many old-school plastic chairs anchored to the ground in stadium-seating fashion. The walls are decked with lots of colored draperies. The altar is a huuuuge octagonal platform, and there is a choir donned in gospel-y type choir robes. They sing some English songs and some Swahili. They sway back and forth in unison a lot, its pretty cool to see. I also met up with Felicien, a Salesian collaborator who I met at Salesian Family Day a few weekends ago. He works for one of the Salesian priests' projects on the budgeting team. And guess where we went? The Simba café. It must be the most stylish place to go in Kigali. A few of the waiters certainly recognized me from my three separate, consecutive, yet unrelated visits…I wonder what they were thinking…but anyways it was very nice to hang out with him, he's a fun guy.
Then I returned to the Sisters' house and I had a blast with the girls who were staying there during their vacation! Seriously, I loved playing with them and I could have stayed the whole week!
There were about a dozen girls, ranging from about 8 years old up to 16. We played hide and seek, a few of us built an obstacle course out of chairs in the gym and ran through it as fast as we can, we watched Dennis the Menace, I had a small dance party with one of the older girls who was listening to music and dancing by herself, and they braided my hair. It was amazing. They also wanted to call Dianne and Mary, two former volunteers who stayed at this house. I agreed, even though it was the middle of the night in America. Well, neither of them answered their phones, but we had a good time leaving fun voicemails. Then a bunch of them just came and lingered in my room for a good hour or so taking pictures and being goofy.
So it was back to visa business on Monday morning. Grace was again very kind, and agreed to pick me up in the morning and take me to the RRA to pay the additional 25,000 RWF’s. There was a big long line, like there was last time I was there. So I expected to wait at least 45 minutes like last time. But all of a sudden, one guy comes out of the front door that leads to the office behind the front desk, and like three quarters of the people in line got up and followed him. So the line was drastically shortened, and I ended up only waiting about 10 minutes! Woohoo! Then I took a moto-taxi to the US Embassy to ask them about how I can do a sworn affidavit. I read on the website (this ended up being inaccurate, go figure) that the embassy can certify sworn affidavits of good conduct, basically replacing the need to request this police clearance form.
Well, I got there, and you first have to enter a tiny security building with a metal detector. When they asked me what department I needed, I said, “um, you tell me…” just kidding I didn’t say that, but I pulled out my printed-off info sheet and explained everything, and after all that explaining, the guy’s response was “You are an American? Services for American citizens only operate on Tuesdays and Fridays. We have to keep a schedule. The other days are for Rwandan citizens wishing to travel to the U.S." Good, yes. Like I’m just gonna leave and try again tomorrow. Right. So I talked more with this guy and asked if there was really nothing I could do today. He got somebody on the phone and I explained again to her. She told me things that I already knew, but I kept re-iterating my questions, so she gave the phone to somebody else. Finally this person answered my question. I can come back tomorrow and fill out a form (the affidavit) that says that I testify that I have not committed any crimes. They will certify that I am testifying that this information is true. But when I asked if this is a valid replacement for the police clearance form, she said that I need to ask at Immigration because they don’t really know what they accept. So I thanked her, and I walked the 2 blocks or so to Immigration.
Well by this time the guy at the Immigration desk and I are good old pals, minus the friendliness that accompanies a typical friendship. Bummer. After haggling with him for a while to see if this affidavit will suffice, and not receiving a clear yes or no, I decide that probably they would not accept it as a replacement to my police clearance form. I'm gonna need to request it, wait for it to arrive, and in the mean time get a temporary visa. But, all of a sudden, the guy asks to see my file of documents. He pages through it, talks to the other girl at the desk, and says that they will give me a tracking number. The girl gives me a number and I just look at her stupidly like "aren't you gonna tell me what I'm supposed to do with this?" The guy explains that they are going to present my case to the director of visas. They will get back to me within three days with what I need to do. Hm, I guess that's a good sign.
I call the Sisters to tell them about this new progression in my visa quest. Fortunately, Sr. Lumiere is coming to Gisenyi in 2 days and will return to Kigali that same night. So she said I should take the bus home, and if I need to come back to Kigali after hearing the director's response, I can drive back with her. I was relieved to hear that! Grace had also asked that I call her when I'm finished at Immigration, and she'd come pick me up and take me to the bus station. She was so so so accommodating, its incredible. She came to get me, and we went first to buy my bus ticket. Then we had about an hour to kill, so we went back to her shop for a few minutes, then she took me to a bookstore where I bought a bible in French. Then she again took me back to the bus station where I headed for home. I learned even more about Rwandan hospitality from my weekend with Grace chauffeuring me around. I kept telling her that I can take a moto-taxi, its no problem, and she kept telling me that moto's are dangerous, and that its no problem for her to drive me. And when I kept thanking her incessantly, I think she was actually a bit insulted, or at least just sick of hearing me say thank you. She explained that when you have a visitor, you do EVERYTHING for them. Whatever they need, you stop your day to help them. "Its our culture," she said. I was very honored that she even considered me "her visitor" after spending such little time with me, and only really doing visa-related things!
So I told her how wonderful I thought that was, and how for Americans we tend to want to stay out of the way, to not disturb other people's schedules, and that's why I felt bad about having her take me everywhere and why I felt it was necessary to thank her so much. It was good to communicate these cultural differences so that we didn't both finish the weekend with an incorrect impression of what the other was thinking. She said I'll have to come back to Kigali one weekend without any other plans, so that I can really be a "visitor." I think this kind of hospitality is something truly unique. I'm sure I wouldn't find it anywhere else!
Also throughout my weekend, I became a lot more confident with my ability to get around on my own. Yes, Grace did drive me a lot. But I also had to run here and there on my own quite a bit. I became very proficient with taking moto-taxis, and I even bought some cookies, all by myself, to give to Grace, Aimable, and the Sisters. Overall, this weekend of hassles has made me a lot stronger and more confident.
I had a very nice bus ride home where I chatted with a guy named Emmanuel who was sitting next to me. He is fresh out of university, and therefore speaks good English, and has been working at a few temp jobs. We exchanged numbers and decided to keep in touch.
When I finally arrived in Gisenyi, it felt sooo good to be home! Kigali is super busy and loud and crowded, and Gisenyi is just a lot calmer. Even in "town," its bustling with activity, but the atmosphere is different because there aren't tons of cars jamming up the streets. The second I step off the bus, there are a bunch of motos waiting to take us to wherever we need to go. One of them apparently recognized me, because he said "Muhato?" I thought that was funny…but weird because I don't know him…but I declined his offer because I first wanted to try to cash my traveler's checks at a bank while I was in town. This was unsuccessful. They told me to go to a different bank, a bit further away. It was already late, so I decided to just go home. I had a really nice moto driver who was asking me if I speak Kinyarwanda. I know how to say "No, I don't speak Kinyarwanda. I speak French and English." in Kinyarwanda. So I always say this and they are really impressed. Then they assume that oh, since she knows how to say that, she must speak Kinyarwanda! So they start asking me all kinds of other things that I don't understand. But it’s a really enjoyable time so I just laugh along with it and say "Sinumva…" (I don't understand) And then we usually resort to French.
I've had many a pleasant moto ride such as these, they're often really fun!
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