Mostly Woe

First off, huge thanks to my friend Ineke from Belgium. She brought plenty of piano supplies (talcum powder and eye protection), chocolate, cat toys and rum. Extremely grateful, as are the cats.

Night out with L-R: Ineke, Keriin, Maja and Keza.

This is mostly a post of extreme pain. I'm having a fairly crappy time of it at the moment.

Two days ago I had a really bad dose of food poisoning. No idea how I managed that. All I cooked was pasta with vegetables, but the next morning I emptied myself in both directions and proceeded to go downhill from there. Ended up in the polyclinic around 9 p.m.

Last time I suspected food poisoning, it was malaria. This time I suspected malaria and it was food poisoning.

Couldn't raise my taxi guy, so took a moto to the clinic, desperately trying not to fall asleep on the back. Then my taxi guy found me. He took a lucky guess at which clinic I'd gone to, and came to drive me home. Didn't charge me, and even went to buy my meds. He's such a lovely guy.

And a lucky guy. The moment I got back through my front door, I was spectacularly sick - all the way down the hall and into the bathroom. Didn't think I had anything left inside me, but turns out there was plenty. Thank goodness my house is all concrete and tiles, and I didn't do that in his car.

Miserably sat in a puddle of my own puke, texting my doctor friend Harris to tell him I was dying.

We had a good laugh about it, then I managed to find my bed.

Polyclinique du Plateau at 10 p.m.
Never seen it so quiet.

Fond Memories.
Last time I was here, I had malaria and I was looking after someone with typhoid.

The Polyclinique didn't really come through for me on the foot, either. They sent me for a DVT scan, established I didn't have that, but that's where their curiosity stalled. Telling me what it wasn't didn't explain what it was, so I sat at home Googling and came to the conclusion that I'd ruptured my Achilles tendon.  

The edema wasn't clearing up, so I booked myself in to see the Belgian Doctor. The Belgian Doctor is twice as expensive as the Polyclinique: 30,000 v. 15,000 but she sent me for a second ultrasound that was only 10,000 instead of the 30,000 before. So, not bad really. Only this scan, at MEDIHEAL (ho, ho), was a bit more conclusive. I have indeed torn my Achilles tendon. The good news is, it's partial not complete - so no surgery required. The doctor recommended physio, and after a couple of nights of sleeping with my foot up on a cushion, the swelling has gone down a lot. 

I'm currently feeling much better - or I would be if it wasn't for the noise.

I'm losing my sanity big time.

Last night pretty much tipped me over the edge. Here's my post to the local community forum (I've had an ongoing thread about noise for a while).

The other week, in a fit of desperation, I got on a motorbike at 1 a.m. and went to find the club. I recorded it and sent that recording to the police and City Hall. I also sent a letter to City Hall asking for help. Two weeks later, I still haven't received a response.

Being the Land of a Thousand Hills, sound is a real issue. It echoes across valleys and up the sides of sectors like an amphitheatre. My next door neighbour, whose house is about ten feet away from mine, is kept awake my Inema Arts Centre at least once a week. I cannot hear Inema at all. We both get kept awake by the clubs in Nyarutarama, only I seem to hear them more nights than he does.

My Rwandan neighbour refuses to contact the police to complain about the noise (or anything else), telling me that, as a foreigner, it's easier if I do it. The result of me always being the one to call is that I start to look slightly mad. Especially when the police arrive to listen after they've finally turned off the music.

And yes, it is driving me somewhat insane. There are community security guards on almost every street in Kigali, yet I've walked home before and seen them sitting there, sleepily ignoring the fact there's a club belting out music at 2 a.m.

To be fair, if I had to sit up all night watching the road, I might welcome a bit of music too, but given that Kigali has strict noise regulations, how hard would it be for community guards to go and ask clubs to turn it down, or off, or set fire to the speakers?

Instead, it's left to sleep-deprived residents to get woken up in the wee hours, umm and aah about whether this is a police matter, finally build up the courage to call, only to be told there's nothing that can be done and please could you let the policeman on duty get some sleep.

Yeash.

My brain is fried.

But I've been really touched by the responses from people online. One lovely lady has put me in touch with a guy who does soundproofing.

I seriously don't want to leave my home. Other than the noise, I've always been very happy here and really like my neighbours. Plus I have five cats, and moving cats is a nightmare. I'd like to exhaust all other options first.

Although, one guy is advertising a stunning piece of land on an island in the middle of Lake Birwa... bet you could get a really good night's sleep there.

Tempting... very tempting.

So, yeah, I'm not in good shape physically or mentally at the moment. Hideously sleep-deprived and facing down a massive editing contract - good money, but lots of work - whilst at the same time preparing for a whirlwind tour of Europe. On top of which, I've just realised I've made a big mistake with the piano stringing, which is going to take hours to fix, and I have the fumigator coming on Tuesday as I discovered bedbugs in the guest room. I freakin' hate bedbugs. 

I'm feeling tired, rundown and rather overwhelmed.

Has anything good happened?

Well, yes, but I'll save that for another post.

I need to go lie down.

Oh yeah, and Rwanda's most famous elephant just died.