Meltdown

Having a minor emotional meltdown, brought about by a number of stressful circumstances, plus the fact I decided to go cold turkey off the cigarettes. 

I'd started smoking more in the past few months than I think I ever have in my life. Was getting through a pack a day at one point. Didn't feel at all bad for it, but know it's not a clever idea. Took my last drag about four days ago. Same issues as always. I've never been one to suffer cravings. I can quite happily pootle through my day without thinking I need a fag, I need a fag, I need a fag! Which makes the fall-out more deceptive. I think I'm fine, but my body starts freaking out. Was up until 4:30am the other night, for no particular reason other than the part of my brain that says 'time to go to bed' didn't kick in. Felt like shite yesterday, and combined with the time of month I have felt more tired today than I ever remember feeling in years.

Almost sliced the top of my toe off the other week, and had to move to the spare room because the bedbugs are back in force on one of the mattresses. My arm looked like I had the pox the other day! 

All of which has probably contributed to my meltdown. I can't express how tired I am. Utterly exhausted. Completely shattered. 

Now was not a good time to go cold turkey.

Things are just absolutely shit right now. Encouraged by the Country Director of an organisation to apply for a job. Did so. Apparently my CV (apparently no one's CV) made it past central clearing. Fuck that. In-country tells you to apply, London ignores you. 

Was looking to move into temporary accommodation whilst my friend tried to buy the house behind hers. The idea being that I could move into it for next to nothing. Sent a couple of friends there today to scout out the price for her. They were told the house is no longer up for sale. So, there goes my secure housing plan.

Meanwhile, something that should be good - the offer of a job with a very impressive title - is causing problems. The job is only for a few weeks between June/July. The pay is not bad, but the work schedule's tough. I put off signing the contract because I don't want to commit so far in advance. That's four months in which I might be offered permanent employment. 

If I sign, I have to decline permanent employment for the sake of a three-week contract. I understand it from their point of view - they need to know they have someone in place. I really don't want to let them down. But at the same time, that's an awfully big gamble I'm not sure I can afford. They are pressing me for an answer, and it's stressful with everything else going on (read that as: when I'm not sure I want to stay here).

So, went house hunting with a couple of lovely friends today.

First house was interesting. Little under £250 per month.

Mini version of my porch.

Self-contained hut for Damascene if
he chooses to come with me.

Room for three small bedrooms, two bathrooms,
kitchen and office.

Running cold water - bonus!

Garden

Average view.

Erm... giant drowned cockroach.
Not the most enticing sales pitch.

Not bad on first inspection, but certainly not perfect. Right opposite a school, so not so quiet at lunch and home-time. Not so private with regard to neighbours, who stood and watched over the wall as we looked around. Though the trickiest part is that it's completely unfurnished. I'd have to spend extra on beds, a cooker and a desk. Plus, it's down the back end of nowhere. Not easy to find a shop or a moto.

Definitely a money saver long-term, but not short-term. Very almost right, but not quite.

Round two involved going to my friend's mate's place. A very large house, also in the middle of nowhere, with rooms to rent.

Good view.

They've just finished renovating the pool and they're filling it up in the next couple of weeks. Again, first glance looks lovely, but he started out asking a ridiculous price, though later said he'd come down to whatever I could afford. Which would have been fine for temporary accommodation, but not now that I definitely need to find somewhere long-term if I'm staying. 

Also, it's a shared house with communal kitchen. That never tends to work out well, especially when the communal eating and social area is right beneath my room. Some nice features, but not somewhere I could live. 

On the up-side, having never seen a proper piano in Kigali, I've seen two of them in one house. Sadly, both extremely broken.

From there it was on to an ultra modern apartment for around £330 per month. Beautiful open plan living room and kitchen...

Lovely view.

Hot Shower!!!

I was sorely tempted. It was the most convincing of the lot. Yet further enquiries unveiled the fact that this was the show room. The actual apartments were in a set of one-up, one-down terraces below. No way I would consider living underneath somebody else's flat here. It would be like the Gikondo apartments all over again, not a wink of sleep.

Finally, we headed to another place my friend had heard about. It was ultra modern, very nice indeed... $2,000 per month!  I knew it was out of my price range the moment I walked in, but I think they're truly pushing their luck there. It was nice, but cramped and without a view. Everywhere in Kigali has a view. For $2,000 I'd want that view panoramic with a beach and cocktails.

Dig the modern art porch.

Think there were four bedrooms.

Cool table with a spinney bit in the middle.
Not two-thousand dollars' worth of cool, though.

That's when my friends agreed to check out the house behind Jo's house, to suss out the price. I sent them in with my phone to take pictures.

They didn't get to look inside because it's no longer for sale. Very traditional sort of place. Though I wouldn't have argued if it meant cheap rent and close friends. Bit gutted really, I liked that idea.

So, we rounded off the day over the road at Rujugiro's mansion. Years ago, I used to live right behind it. Tribert Rujugiro was a Rwandan millionaire. Long story short, taxes, South Africa, house confiscated. It's been opened to the public as a bar and hotel. I'd never been inside before and, having lived behind it for so long, I was curious.

Terrible experience. Waited almost two hours for food. More wrong orders than you'd expect possible when serving three people. We were the only ones there. But it was worth it just to have a nose about the place.

Incredible view of the entire city.

I used to live along that wall.

So posh your Fanta comes in a wine glass.

There's a hot tub en route to the bathroom!

Not what was ordered, two hours late,
but apparently nice all the same.

It was at this point I had a meltdown. I just burst into tears on my friend. Total waterworks. Overwhelmed by the idea of having nowhere to live and no money coming in. Things were going so well before Christmas, but the start of this year has been incredibly tough. Felt terrible for blubbing on him as he's had a far tougher time of it than me lately. He gave me a big hug and made me laugh.

I'm worn out from trying so hard. I don't even know what I'm doing here. I wouldn't say it was a bad idea to come back. For the most part I've had a ball. But it's tough without back-up: the security of a steady income, the simplicity of many of the public sector services back home (i.e. tax returns and health care), the support of family and friends you don't feel guilty about offloading on. Even with expat friends, their lives are often tougher than mine and their responsibilities bigger. 

I feel so terribly unsure of myself right now. Looking down tunnels with no light at the end of any of them. What are the options? Admit it's too much, throw in the towel, close down the business (or give it to Jo) and return to the UK... to do what? 

When things do go well here, they go very well. I can't say that of the past three years in the UK. Thanks to my wonderfully supportive family, my overheads would be much lower, but my social life would expire and, let's face it, the weather largely sucks.

On the other hand, what am I facing here? I can probably find a house, like that first one, that I can afford, but could I stand to live there for the next six months? If I am staying, I'd probably have to sign that work contract pronto, which commits me until August at least. 

I'm terrified.

What if everything that happened before was a total flook and this is the only contract I get? If I take it, I can't even accept a full-time job. It feels like a no-brainer. If I get other contracts, that's great. This contract then becomes a well-paid bonus. If not, it becomes scraping a living until I can drag myself back to the UK, tail between my legs. 

Yes, there is a certain element of pride in all this. I've had a lot of fun, but I've also worked really hard. Just having trouble seeing what the point of it has been. 

Totally exhausted right now. Going to sleep all of tomorrow.

Don't know how much of this is hormonal, related to nicotine withdrawal, or just a normal reaction to combined housing/financial stress. All I want is an affordable house or apartment in a quiet area, decent amount of privacy, and the occasional contract that buys me six months' rent to sit down and write novels. That's it. 

I've decided I'm actually not that fussed about development, truth be told. Many of the people, policies and procrastinations are utterly draining. Tired of investing in projects that fail to launch, or successful ones that I never get to see to fruition. Don't know I agree with much of what goes on. Don't know I have the inclination to analyse whether I do or don't anymore. Just tired.

Still, if I returned to the UK, would it be any better? Maybe I'd write more. Maybe less - I do seem to write an amazing amount (two and a half novels so far) here. Mostly I really do love my life here. It's just an unexpected wave of troubles dragging me under. 

And, what if writing never pays? 

Development doesn't seem to be either at the moment.

Maybe I'm just completely unemployable.

Did the BA, did the MA, did the voluntary service, did the CV, did the company... running out of tricks to perform. 

Three weeks left to find a place to live. Me and my damn morals. 

Less time than that to decide whether I'll be moving into a house and signing that work contract, or moving into a guest house and wrapping up my company.

I am absolutely 50/50 at the moment. 

No idea what I'm doing or why.

Going to sleep for 24 hours. 

Maybe inspiration will hit after that.

Snow White

In a better mood today. Been receiving some beautiful photos from home lately. Plenty of snow.

My local back home in Blighty, the Witch & Sow
(Formerly The Ward Arms).

Sean's place, where I go swimming in the summer.

Home

Dad's jaunt up to Carlisle.

Aunty Jean's garden in Carlisle.

It's currently a cool 29c here in Kigali today. I love the beauty of snow, and growing up I was always a winter baby, but I must admit, having returned from Africa to the UK once in October, I know that I would die of hypothermia in minutes.

Had a yummy meal of reheated curry last night, with poppadoms! Which I've discovered at Sharma's store next to UTC. Revolutionised my kitchen.

Spending the day writing today, having managed to claw some time back from my friends, house hunting and other responsibilities. Starting to feel a little excited about the prospect of moving now. Wondering what house number four will look like.

Curry with Sellafield Sauce

Hole in the Heart

Waved goodbye to my couchsurfer John on Monday night. He'd stayed with me for a week, then headed up to Gisenyi to complete his photographs, and came back for a couple of nights before jetting off to family in South Africa. Lovely to have met him and been a part of his project.

He took this picture of me on a moto, heading off to talk to RRA about tax returns... on a public holiday. As I discovered when I got there and everything was closed.

My street, strangely deserted.

Ho hum.

My house has been like a hotel the past week. The night John left, my friend Christiane arrived for a couple of nights. She's married to a Rwandan and has been here for six years. She sat her nationality test last year and yesterday was the ceremony. I joined her and her witnesses for drinks at Classic Hotel afterwards and it was a wonderful night.

Christiane used to be a singer and did a few turns, most notably to Tracy Chapman's Sorry.

The band was absolutely kicking. At one point we joined their table and we were dancing like lunatics. The guitarist used to be a member of Holy Jah Doves, who were one of the best bands in Rwanda when I left. We knew a lot of the same people. Fabulous night. So glad I could be there to share in this historic moment with C and her husband.

Then today happened.

Very sad.

Was witness to an horrifically homophobic psychological attack on a very good friend of mine. It's an extremely long story, and I can't repeat any of it, because I promised not to, but it was absolutely dreadful. Instigated by a figure in Rwandan society who should bloody well know better. Especially here, where everybody understands where you end up when you start persecuting minority groups. Has watching Uganda's economy dive taught no lessons? Disgusted to the core. Promised to be the model of decorum about it, when all I'd really like to do is punch someone in the face.

There is, however, a little financial manoeuvre I can undertake which will leave the perpetrators shafted for a while. So there's some small satisfaction in that, but it doesn't solve my friend's situation. My heart aches, it really does. So unfair, so unjust.

There are other ways to get even though. I've tagged onto a rights campaign group and I'm building them a website. Meanwhile I'm hoping to write an academic paper on the subject of LGBT discrimination that hits at the heart of international policy. Put in the bid today and should know in a few weeks. Something has to change. Equality can't just be empty words.

Meh. 

Anyway. Finally got the house back to myself, but I will be moving at the end of the month. Not sure where yet, but don't really mind. I've enjoyed living here, but it's definitely time to move on. The sad part is nobody really knows what will happen to Damascene when I go, and he's been such a lovely guy, with a wife and child to support.

Life here can be really hard. It's just such a shame when it's made unnecessarily so by bigots with no love in their hearts.