Jambo,
Well here we sit in our little hut on the edge of the Rwanda forest, ready to go gorilla trekking tomorrow. Given the hut has no power so no entertainment at all, there is only one thing for a newlywed couple to do to fill the time….. But 2mins can’t fill an afternoon so I guess I’ll have to resort to writing an extra long email instead.
I’m pretty happy with the decision to come to Africa – I figure if I show Krys gorillas then my behaviour may not seem so bad – if only I can cut down on the whole ‘throwing poo’ thing. But who hasn’t tried to win an argument by slinging some of last nights processed butter chicken around? Actually now that I say that, it is probably just a me thing. Maybe the gorillas are excited about my visit, and are intending to use me as an example of how good the lady Rwanda gorillas have it here.
Anyway, getting to where we are now was brutal. 4 flights across a day and a half, and at times some of the flights felt like wildlife experiences all of their own. The overnight flight to Nairobi was particularly enjoyable – large bodies wrapped in colourful clothing strewn haphazardly around the cabin, like a night of human disco bowling gone horribly wrong. We did well just to get into our seats given that when we found our designated places, a colourful lady resplendent in everything but the capacity to smile had decided to make a little bed across them. She seemed genuinely indignant when we disturbed her to ask if we could please sit down for the next 9hrs. She then proceeded to throw a leg over Krys’ arm rest where it stayed for the duration of the flight. I think I’ll be stroking Krys back to sleep after nightmares of gnarly toe nails near her face for months ahead.
The plane was also a broad spectrum of hygiene standards. Walking down the aisle towards the bathrooms was like playing a game of body odour battleships, and you had to choose carefully where to take a deep breath. Unfortunately I found out the hard way that seat 24K was not a safe zone and was left gasping for breath like a guppy tipped out onto the kitchen table.
But the major adjustment since being here has been ‘African time’. When we finally got to our room in Kigali, reception called to say in a breathless tone that ‘we have a fruit basket for you – could we please bring it up to you right now’. It was a beautiful gesture but said with such urgency that I could only imagine that every minute delay would be a minute that the reception man would be held against Mr 24K’s armpit as punishment. So I said “of course” and waited by the door. After an hour I thought I should clarify the African use of the term “right now” and also check that the fruit basket delivery process did not commence with a man being sent into the forest to begin foraging for the required fruit. Again the message came that it was in transit – but unfortunately our check out 15hrs later still beat the fruit basket delivery man.
And the African time theory has been confirmed by our new accommodation at the foot of the Rwandan hills. A request to open the safe in our new room was met with a “I’ll send someone immediately”. The outcome was a lady letting herself into the room 2hrs later (thankfully we were fully clothed. Actually who am I kidding – we are in Africa – it isn’t like I’d have anything to impress her…..) to place 2 bottles of water above the fireplace. I tried to ask her about the safe – she looked at me, repeated the word ‘safe’ picked up an umbrella and walked off down the track. Hakuna matata.
Africa itself is so different it is hard to get your mind around. You drive past hunched ladies working in endless fields, kids carrying loads of wood on their heads bigger than they are, and pulling over in the car sees bags of live grasshoppers thrust through the window. Apparently they taste great, as long as you are successful at removing the ar#e – who’d have thought that the ar#e of a grasshopper wouldn’t be that tasty?. Krys showed too much interest in the grasshoppers so our guide bought a bag to cook up for her tomorrow. If she misbehaves I might ask him to leave in a grasshopper rectum or two.
As for the countries themselves, the political situation makes Eddie Obeid look like a noble man. All the surrounding countries are either fighting each other or within themselves. And dotted all over the country-side of Rwanda are mass graves from the 1994 genocide. Makes you realise that our politicians that bang hookers, talk about v#ginas and wear tight speedos aren’t that bad after all. A lack of homicidal tendencies would put them well ahead in African politics.
Anyway it’s time for that utterly pointless task of wandering back up the track to ask about the safe and the fireplace again. I’m looking forward to someone smiling at me and saying ‘right away sir’ which I think translates in swahili to ‘I am just smiling at you and pretending I give a sh#t that you are too stupid to follow the instructions for the safe’. But gorillas tomorrow – can’t wait.
Kwaheri.
Trent and an about to eat grasshopper rectum Krystal
smallthoughts 