Coffee Office

What a dipsy few days. Was so tired on Thursday from lack of sleep that I decided to go and throw myself in Nyarutarama pool, half in the hopes of drowning. Instead, the exercise revived me. Back stroke, breast stroke, underwater, over water, even an attempt at crawl (which usually does drown me).

Came home and had a ugali fest, followed by ice-cream, which they were selling at the pool. I decided I'd better put something in my freezer, otherwise it's just a waste. Plus, I think Zuba will approve.

Strawberry, Vanilla and Chocolate & Vanilla

Printed out my notice on the apartment and handed it to the landlady's daughter. Awkward. I hate situations like that. But they were very good about it. Even offered me a three-bedroom apartment for the same price, but I suspect it won't solve the noise issue, the lack of internet, or the FRW 8,000 they charged me for laundry, which the estate agent told me not to pay. 

I'm not getting into that sort of argument. I'll pay for (the 'free') laundry and cleaning for one month, but I'm outie. Just as an enlightener, 8,000 per week = 32,000 per month just for clean clothes. For 20,000 per month I could have a domestic come and clean my house, wash my laundry, and possibly even do my shopping once a week. See the issue here?

Plus, well... it is a hotel. Looks very nice, but this isn't exactly a holiday. I'd rather find somewhere I can call home.

Am I supposed to sleep in it, or frame it?

I then had one of the cheapest nights out of my life. Jo invited me to dinner with her mother, who is out visiting for three weeks. We headed over to Via Veneto for pizza and chocolate mousse. It was a really lovely evening, although we did have to pull up and repair the cobbled road in order to get there. It was damaged in the rain weeks ago, but no one seems to have mended it. It's not like London - here you really do need a 4x4. 

Anyway, stuffed my face, and Pierre treated us by picking up the bill. 

Then I hopped a moto across town having had a call from my friend Lucky. He's Congolese, works in Burundi, and was in Kigali for one night, and one night only, en route to Kampala. I couldn't resist. Yet another five-year reunion.

It was so good to see him again. He used to work for a pan-African Deaf Association, so I knew him through the Disability movement. Now he's completing a Masters in Business Studies. He's invited me down to Bujumbura. As soon as I get my passport back from Immigration (still no word on that, it's been three weeks) I'd like to take him up on his offer. It's something like FRW 12,000 (£10) return by bus, and $40 (£20) for a three-day visa. He reckons I'd like Buj. I've never been, mostly because, as VSOs, we were banned by the Programme Office after the shooting in 2000.

Anyway, we drank the night away in Nyamirambo, which is the bohemian part of Kigali. It's where the alternative scene is, all the shops painted up like Camden Town, the bars open all night. I never quite feel cool enough to be there. Then we headed to Next, this nightclub in town. It was totally dead. Sort of like Aqua Blu, only green. We had a bit of a boogie, watched some peeps shoot pool, then called it a night.

So, Pierre bought me dinner, and Lucky (wasn't I just) paid for my drinks all night. Cost me a grand total of £1.80 return by moto. Happy days.

Yesterday, after being woken - yet again - at an ungodly hour, I hauled my sorry backside through the shower and decided to check out The Office. Jo and I visited a while back. It's a communal office space in Kiyovu. $10 a day to hot-desk: electricity, internet, coffee, and a giant papier-mâché dinosaur.

It was an interesting experience. The problem is that I work for myself because I hate offices, so to pay to be in one seemed a little counter-intuitive. But, I must admit, as strong as my aversion to offices is, I did buy myself a completed contract tender for that money. I'm not saying I wouldn't have got that done at home, but I think The Office did concentrate my mind a little. Mostly because I knew that if I finished it, I could go home.

I think I still prefer working from home. You have your bathroom and your kitchen to hand, and I'm not someone who gets distracted. If I have something to do, it gets done. But The Office certainly provided networking galore. Within moments I had met my key rival. A lady who set up a consultancy with the same name that I tried to register, but couldn't, because she already had it. Turns out we're not really in competition at all, as we have different focuses and ambitions. Might even be a collaboration in the future.

My eyes were closing by 4pm, so I headed home. I've spent the whole of today lazing in front of the TV, scoffing pasta, wandering about in a vest and pants (it's so liberating to have your own place!) and eating ice-cream. 

I'm going to sign off with a post I've been meaning to make for a while. The cafetiere I bought from T200 broke within a couple of weeks, just like everything from T200, so I've returned to more traditional means of drinking decent coffee. It's the VSO approach, and I'm fed up of people scrunching up their noses when I explain. It works just fine. Here, I'll prove it.

Put a heaped teaspoon of coffee into a cup
with milk and honey (or sugar, you philistine).

Pour in boiling water, stir, and leave for five minutes.

All of the granules will sink to the bottom of the mug.
If there are any stragglers, just blow on them.

Perfect coffee without the need for any paraphernalia. Just don't drain the mug. Sip slowly when you get to the bottom and you'll know when to stop.