53. Rwanda: Kigali to Rusumo Falls

This is a good post to compare with modern facilities to travel.  We had been on the road for 8 months with the money that we had carried from home.  There were no ATMs, of course, but more importantly there was no internet, email, let alone skype.  We had just made some major financial calculations in Ruhengeri and realized that we did not have enough money to get through Tanzania, which at that time was one of the most difficult countries in terms of exchanging money.  Rwanda by comparison had a working telephone system, and it was apparently possible to have money wired, and to receive it in dollars.  This was what we set out to do, keeping in mind the many hours of time difference with Kansas.

Our route through Rwanda in yellow.

Kigali, Rwanda, Wednesday, May 25, 1983

(DAN) The post office opens at 0700, so by my calculations, if I got through right away, it would be about midnight in Winfield (Kansas). I got there at 0705. (Helena was to meet me there later,) After 3 tries, we decided that our parents were not home_, so we put a call through to Grandmother.   And this is where it all began to sour, The connection was worthless and we only got one half of the message through when a woman came on in a most annoying voice and said, “C’est trois minutes, c’est trois minutes,” Now I had made it clear before the call that I would pay if we ran over three minutes, I told the woman this, and she continued to insist. All this was going on in French, and I could hear Grandmother (who did not have even a little French) distantly saying “What? What?” Finally the woman stopped, but Grandmother had not more than repeated the half message, when the woman came on again, “C’est cinq minutes, C’est cinq minutes”.   Finally, I had to hang up. I was not even able to say that everything is OK, not to worry, I just hope that Grandmother got some sleep that night, (Ed: Well, she got some). “That phone call cost US$48.5O for NOTHING[1]._.

We went back to the U. S. Embassy and talked with our Rwandan contact. He called the deputy chief of mission and then said, “We have decided that it is both in our interest and in your interest for us to send a TELEX through the direct Embassy-State Department system explaining the situation”. So we sat down and drafted a 50 word or so TELEX and got it off before 0830 in the morning, Rwandan time, FREE. As yesterday, he reiterated that he was glad we had started the process BEFORE we actually ran out of funds. He says that by law the embassy cannot offer us the TELEX service before “exhausting” commercial means. We continue to be most grateful at the attitude shown at the embassy here.

(Ed: I wish that I could report that we knew that they had received the money. We sent them a cable with a “pre-paid reply,” but perhaps they are not familiar with such.  It has been two weeks since we sent the money (out of Dan’s account) but we have had no more word. The first remittance sent before the TELEX arrived came back, but we sent it again after receiving the complete information.  The cable also mentioned that they were all right which was a comfort. It was unfortunate that we were trying to send it over the long Memorial Day weekend. We were spending a few days in Omaha with Price when they were trying to call us.)

We spent the rest of the morning doing errands. We checked at immigration and “researched” the possibility of extending our visa, Next we visited the Indian merchant and “asked to see his Formica.” The phone call neatly obliterated the $50 I had changed with him before. We bought a kilo can of powdered milk for the next few weeks of cafe con leche and then made a good sweep of the market, Here the used clothes section is all hung on hangers,

I believe we have not commented on our stable diet lately. When traveling, we have

been eating mainly peanuts (roasted, salted, delicious) and bread with a combination of fruit--bananas and any one or two of the following: lemonade, oranges, tangerines, guavas, today chirimoyas (sour sops).  At least once a day we get a good charge of milk to get the “goodies” we cannot get from the legume-grain combinations.  We have, all things considered, stayed amazingly healthy. Martin’s long coughing fit was scary: he, as do a large proportion of fellow travelers, smokes a lot. He does not carry food with him, either,

We had some fun teasing Martin about British accents which drop mid-word consonants such as li’le (little) and si’ing (sitting). He claimed he had never heard of such a thing, but he clearly pronounced British as “Bri’ish. His last name is Goddard (Geh-DAHD) which might interest the inhabitants of Goddard (GAH-derd) Kansas. We asked him what he did back in Britain, and he said “Oh, different things.” We have an idea he is very young , less than 20, because he said something about probably going to college when he got back, We also learned that his father taught at Ibadan, Nigeria, for 16 years though Martin only visited him there for brief stays three times.

After market we headed back to our pad and after lunch settled in for an afternoon of reading and writing, Our daily schedule has become very farmer: breakfast at 0600, lunch at 1100, supper at 1700 (unless we have tea) and to bed by 2100.

We have digested our Time and Newsweek. the news about Central America and Reagan is most distressing. How Ronnie can make statements such as “The Soviet Union is the focus of all evil in modern times” and still retain “44 % approval of his policies” is beyond my feeble comprehension.

It was interesting to read March 9 Newsweek article on “the drought in Africa”. We have been through 5 of the countries mentioned, and this is the first time we have heard about “the beginnings of a worse drought than in the seventies,” One thing we CAN identify is US$7,5 billion in relief aid that has “solved nothing” in the Sahelian states, There are just too many people_.  Actually, I had heard of the general drought in the Southern Hemisphere--South Africa, Australia (Ed: and Bolivia[2]). In Senegal, the opinion was that the Sahel had never really recovered.

Kigali, Rwanda, Thursday, 26 May, 1983

(HELENA) Once again we were up with the squawking of our ever-faithful companions, the pseudo—ducks, as Dan has dubbed the obnoxious black and white birds we have been seeing since Cameroun. Today we puttered around after breakfast, partly because of the rain, but mostly because we have no pressing business. We did not really expect our money tran­saction to be done yet, but we stopped by the U. S. embassy, anyway. Our friend (we really should get his name) showed us a copy of the final TELEX that had gone to Grandmother. Dan was a bit (?) disgruntled that they had reworded his text; he thinks it makes it sound as though we are terribly desperate and are hitting our grandmother for a lump of money. I am not too proud, so I am just glad that they sent it for us,

Another trip to the P. T. T.  The one consolation for its having the most expensive postal rates to date is that it is the first post office on our whole trip that has had a “bin” as our British friend, Martin, would call a waste basket.

We had hoped to ask about a place to pitch our tent while we were at the embassy, but we saw a very clear message on the bulletin board that stated that the Rwandan govern­ment has prohibited camping.  Dan told our friend that we would like to camp, but… He could not help us on that, but he directed us to the Presbyterian Mission Auberge, We found we could stay in their 10-bed dormitory room for ~$us2 a day less than the other place, so we had our lunch and moved. I have just checked good old “Geoff” again, and it turns out that this is the place he says does not receive travelers very enthusiastically. They treated us fine, so here we are.

This afternoon we swallowed some of our prejudices and spent a couple of enjoyable hours reading at the USIS (United States Information Service) library.  Dan even got to read a fairly recent issue of Sports Illustrated. We were not too impressed with the World Book’s description of Rwanda, but we learned some neat things about tea and coffee.

We continue to enjoy the guavas and chirimoyas. The chirimoyas are small, but the best I have ever eaten; there are none of the brown or hard spots you often get in Bolivia. We have also found a boulangerie where the bread is quite acceptable to our discriminating palates,

The dress has changed a great deal recently. Here in the city a good percentage of the people wear western dress, but in the country we no longer are seeing the 2 meter lengths of cloth wrapped around. The cloth in general has changed and no longer looks so typically African; in fact we have seen a lot of plaid material. The women wear long, gathered skirts, usually with an old blouse or sweater, probably from the used clothes stock. As often as not they will wear a gauzy, transparent, shiny piece of material over one shoulder, I cannot imagine how that style began because it is rather gaudy for my taste_.  A lot of the people in the country carry a thin staff, and some men wear a skirt made of a length of cloth wrapped around them[3], along with a Western style sport coat_.  It is quite impressive to see a very tall, thin Tutsi dressed in a long skirt, tennis shoes, and sports coat.

Kigali, Rwanda, Friday, May 27, 1983

(DAN)

Last night before going to bed Helena had been enjoying the Rwandan music coming rather strongly from next door.  It is much more similar to North African music than to say that of Zaire. Both men and women sang just a melody and the background was some stringed instrument. At 2130 when we were getting into bed, the music stopped and a radio soap opera (a la Kaliman) started up. My bed is right next to the window and the adjoining wall, and it did not take long to see that sleep and Kaliman were mutu­ally exclusive. I went out and knocked on the door (it is the room that belongs to the “night manager.” His light was out, and there was no answer. I went outside the building to see if I could wake him from his window, no luck. There was another room at the other end of the hail that was occupied; my man was not there (you could hear the radio all the way down. I made another attempt at bed, no luck. Helena, of course, was having no prob­lem sleeping. Finally I flagged a man from the upstairs apartment, He semi- broke in, and then could not see how to turn the radio off.  (Our manager had sortied without shutting it off).  Finally the fellow from upstairs had to pull the plug. Bliss!

Today was a real roller coaster; we hit a high when we went to the Banque National Du Rwanda, BNR, talked with the proper dude and were assured that whenever our draft appeared in Rwanda, we could get it in U, S. dollars, cash.  We also left instructions on how to contact us when the draft arrived. Then we went back to the dorm and washed a good portion of our clothes before we hit the low,

Two Australians arrived about 0900, and about all they could talk about was how difficult the situation is in Tanzania. Steve and Joan have just come from long stays in Kenya and Uganda but have talked with many travelers who do not recommend going to Tanzania, As I understand it, until a few months ago, Tanzania had the same black market problems as Zaire: an official exchange of 9 shillings to $1 but an unofficial exchange of 60 sh, to $1,  from any Asian merchant. Two months or so ago the government threw some 2000 black marketeers in jail and later every single border guard soon joined them in the Klinker. (We knew this before today). What was new is that travelers after leaving Tan­zania had stories of being followed constantly (in the hope that they would lead the au­thorities to new black marketeers) and of complete searches at any time and place, the idea being that if they found you with money unaccounted for, or no bank slips indicating that you dealt at the bank, they could jail you. One can go “honest,” but at the official rate, the country is very expensive for travelers. Well, it sounded worrisome but not an immediate problem,

Midmorning I went by the embassy to check to see if we had gotten a telegram from the U, S. (Helena stayed with the drying clothes and reading Brother to a Dragonfly) to find a note saying, “Dan Robertson, your money has arrived at BNR.” The time was 1035, ten minutes from BNR closing time, and it was a Friday, I did make it in the door on time, and after 30 minutes of paper-signing, waiting, and queuing, I walked out with 10 “Bennies” 4Grants,” and 5 “Andys” burning a hole in my neck bag.  Everyone agrees that it is an African record, cash in hand 50 hours after hanging up the phone with Grandmother.  I had expected to have the New York TELEX subtracted and at least a fee on this end, but it was completely free on this end. What is not known is at what cost in human toil and tears on the home end. I have visions of Grandmother hauling down to the bank and lighting fires under various officials to have the job done properly. (Ed: It cost us $15 at this end to send the $1300. The lady at the bank who is in charge of bank drafts did it all. I believe that our worded cable did not reach them) Thank you very much; we are most sorry if we caused a lot of worry. Walking out of the bank was a high high.

Once I reached the street, it hit me that we would have to make a quick decision about Tanzania, and we hit a low low. Back at the room we discussed the problem some more with Steve. According to the travelers leaving Tanzania, the only regular method of transpor­tation now is the train since the bus and truck companies were mostly owned by Asians or Arabs who have been caught in the crackdown and are no longer in action.  He had some later stories about people on trains in third class (the only “feasible” option) being drugged and waking up without anything left.  A third Australian who appeared in the after­noon, Mick, had a rumor about 40 people on an overlander vehicle being killed, etc, We do not let those things bother us as a rule, but the POSSIBILITY still nags in the back of the head, (Ed: isn’t that the truth!)

Our only alternative would be to go back through Burundi, clear the length of Lake Tanganyika to Zambia. This option had three major obstacles: we have no visa for Burundi, no visa for Zambia, and our visa for Rwanda runs out on Monday.  In the afternoon we checked around and found that 1. There is no embassy for Zambia in Rwanda or Burundi; 2. That the Rwanda extension and Burundi visa would take us till Thursday at the earliest, etc_.   We went back to the

Tanzanian embassy and they denied any problems at all “for tourists, as long as we dealt at the banks.” A check back at the U. S. embassy (by now a warm, old friend) showed that they had no travel warnings about Tanzania.  (The mass murder/execution must be a well-kept secret) whereas they discouraged our going to Uganda. Steve just came from three months in Uganda and says “It is perfectly safe for Wazungus, but the military is very ‘heavy’ with the Africans.” (Or Zaire revisited).

Sometime in the afternoon it was decided that since Tanzania was our original plan, that is where we would go. Helena had pulled for it all along; “Yours Truly” was the one who vacillated.  If we had heeded everybody’s warnings about safety, we would still be in Spain (Ed: or the U.S.).

Goods are supposed to be very scarce in Tanzania, so the next step was to stock up on some essentials. We got another extra gas canister; we are now carrying two 900 gr. cans of powdered milk, detergent, toothpaste, peanuts, etc. We have been saving our granola for Tanzania, so we are nutritionally set for a few weeks,

We decided to get on the road tomorrow, so we spent the evening paring down on the excess weight - extra journal  pages, books, etc. We had quite a conversation with the Aussies, one of our closer brushes with the real world of backpackers.  Joan is a lawyer and Steve a geography teacher, but they have been kind of living off the fat of the land for a while. They have spent 18 months and 14 months, respectively, mostly in Kenya, Sudan and Uganda. They are “travel­ing mellow” and by comparison we “travel intense”.

It was interesting to be around the Aussie accent after doses of the British, for example “like” for a large body of inland water.  I missed the meaning of a story one other time: Steve had run into the British Consul in some isolated part of Uganda, and the latter promised that if Steve came in to register formally at the consulate, he would be given a “mahzbah,” The other Aussies oohed and ahed while I envisioned some sort of Arabian massage.  They were surprised that we who are partially from the U.S. had never heard of a “mahzbah,” Finally it surfaced that they were referring to a piece of chocolate clearly marked “Mars Bar.”

Kigali, Rwanda--Ngara, Tanzania, Satuday, 28 May, 1983

(HELENA)

One of our longest days, and amazingly enough, we remained cheerful almost to the end, We were up by 5:45, dressed with our stomachs nicely warmed by a good cafe con leche, and our feet were hitting the bottom step of the Auberge Presbiterienne by 7:00. Our hitching style obviously varies greatly from that of our Australian friends because they were just starting to stir and were not out of bed when we left. It was a nice, cool morning, and our road was mostly downhill, so it was a pleasure to walk for 45 minutes along the busy highway until we were sort of out of town.  Before long a pickup driven by a German man picked us up and took us for about 5 km.  We got down and walked a bit farther to a place we considered reasonable for hitching purposes. There was plenty of traffic, but most of it (and several of the cars stopped) was going to the airport.

After we had waited an hour, a small Renault approached, but we decided it had already gone by and refused us. So without our even flagging it, the car stopped and said he was going as far as Kayonza, some 66 km away.   He was a very friendly Rwandan who said he was going to the country to work in the fields.   He claimed that all city Rwandans do that every weekend but this was the first time we had heard about it.   He asked a lot of questions about Bolivia, so we passed a very pleasant hour of travel chatting. The road was a nicely paved one that went through more Rwandan hills.  Once again the hills were different from any others we have seen. These were flatter and not so green, perhaps more worn out, He tended to wander a bit, causing other drivers to look back at us rather pointedly when they passed, but otherwise he was nice and slow and careful,

He left us off at a crossroads where he turned left and we turned right. We had a soft drink and bought more bananas (I think this time it was 14 of the seditas) to keep us going. We walked a bit along the road, sat under some eucalyptus trees, ate several bananas[4], and waited another hour.  Plenty of vehicles went by, but they were mostly pickups that wanted to charge exorbitant rates.

Our next ride was in a brand new red Toyota pickup belonging to the Prefecture de Kibungo. In contrast to our Renault friend, this man was silent, and he drove very fast.  He dropped us at the crossroads where he went on to Kibungo and we were to go straight to the border with Tanzania at Rusumo Falls,

Because of all of the rumors about scarcities in Tanzania, we decided to stock up on food for the next couple of days. Dan got us some good hot beans with boiled plantains in our mess kit, bought some bread, and got 15 more seditas (tiny bananas). (Since our experience on the road to Ruhengeri when some bananas got squished and all over everything, we put these carefully in a plastic bag on top of the cans.  We walked down the road to another shady spot with a nice view of the hills and waited another hour, As usual, there was a constant stream of people walking by with many of the children stop­ping to watch the Robison Circus,

Once again there seemed to be plenty of vehicles, but most of them were pickups, overloaded with green bananas and going the wrong way. After another hour’s wait we were surprised to see a big bus approach. It was the last thing we had expected, but since its sign said “Rusumo,” we decided to take it. On the outside it looked newish, but once we had gotten on board, we discovered it had seen better days. Some of the seats were gone, but there had been some attempt to replace seats and reupholster them. Talk about a pleasant way to go! We were feeling on top of the world, what with good rides (we did pay for this last one) a nice day, and a beautifully paved road. (Our Renault friend told us the road has been paved since 1978). In fact I had just commented on how good the road was when the bus suddenly slowed and turned off of the pavement onto a dirt road, We could not figure out what was happening because our Michelin map shows it as paved all the way, but finally someone explained that we would take a side trip and later rejoin the blacked road.

The bus was run in a very businesslike manner. As soon as we got on, the helper handed us long tickets that had the name of each stop along the route listed. He had placed a check beside the place we got on and our destination and a check on the price charged. We found it rather hilarious the way new people would get on the bus and note our presence.  We could not understand what they were saying, but invariably we would hear the word wazungu, and we would know they were talking about us.

At several of our stops we noticed people standing around drinking out of small, smooth gourds using reeds straws, We assume they were drinking the famous banana beer,

About 45 minutes before we reached the border, a young man casually sat down across from us and asked if we wanted to change some money.  He offered Dan 1 Tanzanian shilling for 10 Fr Rw, Dan laughed and informed him that that was worse than the official rate. They eventually struck a better deal whereby we got rid of almost all of our Rwandan francs and got the amount of shillings Dan had been told at the Tanzanian embassy we could legally take into the country,

The last stretch before the border was pavement again, so we really enjoyed the hilly, green countryside, The hills were quite stony, and the population was not so dense as in other parts of Rwanda. I guess they are stony but have enough soil to be nice and green.

Cliffs above Rusumo Falls on the Rwanda-Tanzania border

The bus dropped us, and we had a very easy and short exit, making Rwanda our easiest entry and exit of all the countries. There was a nice bridge across the river. From one side we could see the Rusumo Falls (not high but pleasingly noisy) and from the other we could see high, vertical rock cliffs.  We would have liked to linger to look at both sights, but both of us were pretty worried about the Tanzanian border crossing.

Rusumo falls from the bridge at the Rwanda-Tanzania border

Rwanda travel cost/person/day US$ 8.03

Rwanda cost minus phone call US$ 5.52

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[1] You can talk for a couple of years on skype for that, today.

[2] In retrospect the 1983 drought in Bolivia turned into a historically bad drought.  It was when El Niño started to become commonly discussed.

[3] In retrospect I realize that this is more common with people of grazing traditions in East Africa and down even into Namibia.  We had just come through 5 countries and 3 months of being in Tse Tse fly land where there is very little or no grazing tradition.

[4] Helena dwells more on the food, in retrospect.  She must have been continually hungry.