Federer and Fabric

Been a relaxing few weeks. Had a fantastic time watching the Federer v. Nadal Australian Open Final. Woke up in time to see people asking about it on the expat/immigrant forum and when I saw who was playing I knew I couldn't miss it. I don't have a telly, so I headed to a local bar. Met up with some lovely people including an aid worker who was flying out a few hours later. We were the only two Federer fans, so it was quite a triumph when he won. We decamped to CasaKeza for drinks and, having been drinking since 10am (thanks international time zones!) I fell asleep on the couch after seeing him safely back to his hotel. The staff at CasaKeza know me well, and simply left me there. I woke up just as the owner came home, so managed another round of tinto de verano before wobbling my way home.

Working from CasaKeza - My Outdoor Office

Also went to a fun event at Impact Hub, which is a rooftop cafe with screening space. A young documentary maker was showing his piece about Rwanda's Reading Culture which, as a writer, interests me hugely. It was a good night. Met more lovely people, and there was a panel discussion afterwards.

View from Impact Hub

Swung home past Maia's house. After one panelist's comments about using technology to get people reading, it was great to see these young ladies engrossed in a story on their tablet.

Life here is really very lovely, though there have been a couple of strange moments. I'm organising a birthday party this weekend for myself. Called the caterer to come and make brochettes, and ordered a couple of crates of beer from my local shop. But it's been about a year since I left Rwanda and my clothes are looking a bit threadbare. Rwanda has increased tax on second hand clothing, which has also prompted a mass increase in cheap Chinese imports which don't usually come in the same sizes western and African women come in - or a style you'd ever want to wear. 

The only other option is to get something made. The problem with that is, your choice of fabric is usually igitenge, igitenge, igitenge or igitenge, which is printed African fabric usually in bright colours and complicated patterns. It can look absolutely lovely, but I know from experience that it's not something I would wear if I went back to the UK, and it doesn't work with the sort of tops I generally wear. So, I went in search of a non-igitenge fabric shop and managed to find one inside a huge shopping mall that has been recently built.

Shopping malls are going up all over the place at the moment, and there is now a directive that all NGOs and businesses operating from residential houses must move into purpose-built office space. They say it's to free up housing in the city, and I get that, but I think it's also to try to bring a return for the companies who invested in building the malls. Shopping malls don't make a massive amount of sense because there isn't much variety in business here, and the majority of people don't have expendable income to burn. Shops are usually: clothes, food, tech. If you're operating from a market or a small street stall, your prices are going to be lower than people who move into a shopping mall, because shopping mall overheads are expensive. So you move into a shopping mall, have to put your prices up, and everyone still goes to the market because it's cheaper. 

It leads to scenes like this:

That's the shopping mall where I found the fabric shop. It's pretty much empty apart from one floor entirely devoted to imported clothes. From a distance, they look tempting, but out of about twenty shops I couldn't find a single thing I could, or would, wear.

I did find the fabric shop though, and it was glorious.

  

I found some beautiful material and took it to a tailor that had been recommended, along with some old clothes I was hoping he could recycle. Unfortunately, as often happens, they measured me for the size they thought I should be, rather than the size I actually am, and instead of an elegant, floaty top, I ended up with something resembling a polo shirt. If it had been an igitenge top, I'm sure they would have done a fine job.

It was a bit disappointing. So I went back to buy more fabric and told my woes to the owner, who promptly called up another tailor. I'm hopefully collecting my outfit tomorrow. Fingers crossed it's a bit better. 

In other news, I found a fabulous little place called Books & Convenience in town, run by a Rwandan author and book lover who currently lives in Gabon. Hoping to meet up with her next time she's in town.

I saw they had Howl's Moving Castle on sale, and couldn't resist buying a copy (my cats are called Sophie & Howl).

Talking of which, my pride of kittens are doing very well.

Also went to a talk at CasaKeza by ImagineWe, a Rwandan publisher who launched their first children's book last year. Really talented group. It was a complete pleasure to hang out with them and other new friends, including one of the panel members from the documentary and a totally fab Kenyan lady who came to interview me about the writing courses I run. She works for a media company and was due to head home after our interview, but I managed to convince her to stay on a day longer to come to the book talk. It was a really lovely night and much sangria was consumed and books talked about. Great write-up here.

Beautiful Moon from CasaKeza Garden

In other news, I've had a major breakthrough with Lirika. I have learnt so much about pianos over the past couple of months. I've tuned her (twice - once in the wrong direction due to an over-pull slip up), I've glued three broken elbows, repositioned six damper spoons, reset a popped bridle strap, removed a tuning pin and restrung it, adjusted let off, and learnt the really hard way why a pitch raise is important. I can now reinstall the action in under an hour (down to about five minutes - significantly better than my first attempt). And I haven't managed to break anything *yet*. Though I did manage to destroy an entire tin of tomato puree (best not to ask). I even took my first steps into the world of piano repair, called to a Korean church where their pianist had (and I have absolutely no idea how) managed to cut five strings. I removed the broken strings and identified the ones he needed to order. Not as easy as it sounds as each key has a number, and most notes have two or three strings (unisons/a 'chorus of strings'). Because the hammers are set at an angle, it isn't always obvious which number string is missing. Piano repair is a lot more physically demanding than I expected, but I'm really enjoying it. 

Did hit a bit of a problem, though. My cheap eBay tuning hammer did really well on 95% of the tuning pins, but on the bass section it began stripping the pins rather than turning them. Tuning hammers are just socket wrenches, and socket wrenches come in a star shape, whereas tuning pins are square. You can see the problem from this picture. That really shiny pin in the middle is not new, it's old, but the wrench has shaved its corners smooth.

If you can't turn the pin, you can't tune the string. I really wanted the piano in working order for my party, so I set out in pursuit of a hardware store someone on the immigrant forum told me about. Eventually found the place and made another friend. It's run by a guy called Rocky, originally also from Britain. He was so helpful, letting me take expensive equipment home to try it out. When nothing worked, he sent me to a metal worker he knows. I took one of the tuning pins with me to show him (the first time I'd ever removes one), and he agreed to make me a square tuning bit for around £10.

Standard Tuning Hammer

Custom Made Bit Fitted to a Ratchet Handle

How cool is that? It's worked on everything except one, extremely buggered, pin. She still has a few issues, mostly with the damper spoons, but I'm hoping to fix that today. Eventually I'll replace the pins, and I'd love to restring her entirely, but not just yet. My friend and I are still looking for a broken piano to try building one. We need a string frame to use as a template. Unfortunately, no one has come forward with a piano we can use. If we can't find one soon, I'm thinking about using Lirika. She would become the mother of all pianos in Rwanda, but it would mean taking her apart entirely. I cringe at this, after all the work I've put into her, plus I was rather looking forward to piano lessons, but if we do this, I'll put her back together with a full set of new pins and strings. 

Looking Good

Regulating Kit

Tuning Kit

Last Remaining Problem

Going to spend today adjusting the spoons. For the most part, she sounds really lovely, and I feel a little teary-eyed when I play her and realise I did this. I've never considered myself particularly mechanically-minded or capable, but for some reason, pianos just seem to click. 

I'm enjoying a last, lazy day as I have a lodger arriving tomorrow. A consultant staying for two weeks, which works out perfectly for me as I'm off to the Maasai with friends in a couple of weeks and he can feed my cats whilst I'm gone. Trying to get my head around lodger, party, safari in quick succession.

Finally, sad to hear actor John Hurt passed away. He is often remembered for Shooting Dogs, a film about the Rwandan genocide. This is him on location whilst they were filming. I wasn't here at the time, but my friend Lies was and even got a photo with him!

On With The Show

Had a lovely day yesterday. Paella tasting at Casa Keza, my friend Maia's bar. Sangria and iced coffee flowed freely.

I haven't updated as I have had my head in editing for the past couple of weeks. Almost 160,000 words, 566 pages. Now that's done I can relax a little. Spring cleaning the house. Planning for a birthday bash in a couple of weeks. Haven't had a house party here before and it's a lot to organise. Hoping to have a fire pit and a barbecue. 

Also booked a trip to Maasai Mara next month with my friend Tracey, who runs Overland Travel Adventures and came for New Year. 

I'm taking in a lodger for a couple of weeks, so he'll be able to look after the cats whilst I'm away.

Lots of things to look forward to.

Sen kitty has recovered very well from her sad ordeal and has been helping me edit.

I've just dropped her off at the vet this morning to get her belly shaved like her sister.

Sophie After The Snip

Always feel so guilty about that, but she is an amazing vet, and Kigali doesn't need any more unwanted babies. 

She's with the same vet who saved her before. The vet has rather fallen for Sen (who she named Harold, after Harold Finch from Person of Interest). There is a small chance Harold might stay with her. Part of me feels sad about this, because she loves playing with her brother and sister - they're the best of friends again. But part of me is delighted at the prospect. Three cats is definitely a lot more work than two, and there couldn't be a safer, more loving home for her in the whole of Rwanda than with the vet. She's asked to keep Harold overnight. I'm going to suggest she keeps her over the weekend. See how it goes.

In other news, my tuning hammer arrived. I've set to tuning up Lirika, but I still need some other tools so that I can adjust the dampers on the bass section.

Tuning Kit

Tuning a piano is a lot harder than I thought, though it's made much easier with an app called TuneLab. You just load it onto your phone and away you go. But most of the keys on a piano have three strings - any, or all, of which could be out of tune. So you have to start by tuning the middle string, and then trying to match the other two (the unisons) to the first. 

In order to clearly hear the middle string, you need to dampen the two on either side, which you can either do with a temperament strip (long strip of felt) or with rubber dampers (things that look like barbecue skewers above).

 

It takes a really long time because the tuning pins are extremely sensitive. You only have to tap slightly to raise or lower a step. You can spend ten minutes or more trying to get one string to hit the right pitch, then you need to tune the strings on either side. 

I was really surprised because the guy I bought it off didn't think it had been tuned in ten years, yet the majority of the strings were sharp by almost a semitone. This suggests someone tuned it by ear, and their ear was either sharp or they knew that it wouldn't get tuned again in a while. The surprising thing was that the notes had held for so long. A piano frame holds around 20 tons of string tension, so it's impressive it hadn't gone flat. It had hardly been played, though.

It's been a really fascinating experience. I just hope the post doesn't swallow the rest of the things I've ordered. I never thought of myself as being particularly technical, but the inside of a piano is so beautiful. People light up when they see it. Many locals haven't seen a real piano before. 'Piano' and 'keyboard' are used interchangeably here, and invariably mean an electric keyboard. Two people have already asked me where you plug it in, and became fascinated when they learnt it doesn't require electricity. 

I just wish my playing matched my progress in piano maintenance.

Had a guest come to listen (I think I knew her mother).

 

I've also had some new furniture made for the house. A bookshelf, kitchen table and new bed. Plus I've fulfilled my dream of square mosquito nets - almost. I've had both beds fitted with frames, only it's proving impossible to get the nets made. I've just ordered one from eBay (thank you free international delivery). Hoping it fits.

And, on a final fun note, apparently Leonardo DiCaprio is in town with Miss World and Miss America. Had to laugh. They stayed at my friend's hotel, Five Volcanoes, but she wasn't there at the time. Apparently the tour company keeps these things very hush hush. But a few months back her daughter made national news at the gorilla naming ceremony when she took hold of the President's hand and followed him everywhere. She only saw that online afterwards. Bless her.

So, life in Kigali is good at the moment. Need to find some clothes to wear for my party. Think I'm going to have to get them made. Everything's looking a bit threadbare at the moment. Considering a short trip to the UK around July, but nothing definite yet.

We've also had some really impressive storms lately. Plenty of thunder and lightning. Causing a lot of damage in the villages, and I lost power for twenty-four hours. The kind of storm where you find yourself sitting in the dark, whistling the theme tune to Jurassic Park.

Heartbroken

My Boy

Well, it's been a very difficult start to 2017. Without tempting fate, I hope this means brighter days ahead.

Last Monday broke my heart, it really did.

I won't recount the story, I'll just share an update I posted on Tuesday:

Absolutely heartbroken. Yesterday was a truly awful day. As most of you know, I reared four tiny kittens found abandoned in a bag in Kigali. They were so small they needed syringe feeding and bum wiping. I wasn't going to keep any of them, but couldn't keep to that policy after parting with the eldest two to someone I thought was a responsible, cat-loving person. Sophie and Howl (the smallest two) are now well and truly mine.

The eldest two seemed to be doing fine. I took Sophie & Howl to visit a couple of weeks back, and the vet who vaccinated them said they had been playful and healthy.

Then, yesterday, the new owner contacts me to tell me the sad news that the eldest boy fell down a 12 m pit latrine and died.

The part of the story that took longer to come out was that this happened a week ago last Friday. She apparently tried to get him out, couldn't, and left him there for two days until he stopped crying.

She only thought to contact me when it was far too late.

I was distraught. I knew that I had to see for myself whether there was the slightest chance he might still be alive. I contacted WAG, which is an animal shelter for abandoned pets here in Kigali. Two of their volunteers, Lauren and Olivia, agreed to come with me for support. I cannot stress how grateful I am. I could not have done this without them. They carried me through it.

When we arrived at the house, the woman wasn't there, so her staff let us in thanks to my friend Senga, who drove us over there and negotiated our entry to the compound.

We were headed straight for the latrine when we heard mewing.

The girl kitten was lying by the drive, shivering with cold and foaming at the mouth.

Olivia stayed with her whilst Lauren and I went to the latrine. We knelt on our hands and knees in waste, lowering a lamp down on a 12 m piece of washing line.

It was so hard to see anything down there, but we took turns peering in and swinging the lamp. There was no sound and no movement, but we could not clearly make out his body. There were things that looked like they might have been, but nothing definite. As they had started using the pit latrine again, Lauren made the practical observation that perhaps his body had been covered.

We were faced with a very immediate decision. I wanted to lower my phone down with the camera rolling, but it would have been extremely difficult and we were running out of daylight. Meanwhile, girl kitten was in desperate need of medical attention.

"She's not sick," the staff insisted.

Until she vomited in front of them.

Alongside WAG, I am forever indebted to Dr Arum and her husband (who is the mountain gorilla vet). They have just moved from Musanze to Kigali. I texted to tell Dr Arum what was happening and she responded immediately saying they were on standby. If there was the slightest chance of bringing boy kitten home alive, her husband was willing to smash the toilet and climb down into the latrine to get him.

We rushed girl kitten to their surgery where she was placed on an IV under observation.

After so much sadness, it was incredible to meet supportive, animal-minded people.

Thanks also to mum, who listened to me sob down the phone at midnight after several rounds of beer therapy.

Feeling much stronger this morning. The woman is asking when she can have her kitten back. The answer to that is never. I just have to be in a calm enough frame of mind to say that to her.

Dr Arum sent news this morning. Girl kitten had a very rough night, but she's stabilized and eating like crazy.

Wish it could have been a happy ending for both, but very much looking forward to bringing her home to her brother and sister.

I still find it hard to think of that pit latrine without welling up. My big boy stuck down there, calling out. It would have been so easy to lower down a bag with food in it and pull him up. Or for the owner to send down food and water until help arrived. She had the numbers of three vets I'd given her, and didn't call any of them - or me.

Just can't forgive that.

Feeling much stronger now though.

Girl kitten came home a few days ago. She had been poisoned by something, not sure what, and the vet said if we hadn't brought her in when we did, she'd likely also be dead.

Previous owner isn't contesting this, but did say it was okay because she would 'get more'. I urged her to go to WAG and get training in how to care for animals before she does that.

Girl kitten, who was called Fifi, but I renamed Sen (because she was Spirited Away to a far off place, and returned, sadly without her friend), and who is known as Harold by the vet (actually, it's now double barrelled: Sen-Harold), is recovered and eating well. The vets have offered to spay her once she's put on some weight. She was so much bigger than them when she left. Now she's a little bit smaller.

Sen as a tiny kitten, sitting in the middle of the food tray whilst Sophie & Howl eat around her.

It's not been easy. Although she's only been away a month, it's as though Sen doesn't recognise the house she grew up in, or her brother and sister. She hisses every time she sees Sophie & Howl. I'm swelling with pride at how they have handled it. Howl in particular has never lost his patience once. He simply lies as close as she'll let him, edging closer when she isn't looking, and bringing her things to play with. Sophie has been just as good, but I think she's getting tired of it. She's started hissing back when Sen hisses at her.

Yesterday was a breakthrough. Sen played with Howl for the first time.

This morning, they all ate from the same bowl without incident. Sen's closest to the camera.

It's progress. Though three kittens is a world more destruction than two. I'm forever tripping over them and picking things off the floor. It's nice to see her returning to a playful little fluffball. I just hope Titi's found Christiane, Mao, Sula and Ishuheri up there in the Heaviside Layer.

Happier Days

Happy New Year

Beautiful Bright Moon

Happy New Year. Sorry for the lack of updates. A mixture of complete normality (nothing to report) and festive recovery.

Howl, Festively Recovering

 

 

Although, I must be honest, Christmas and New Year really aren't a thing in Rwanda. It's nice in some respects because there's less pressure and commercialism, but in some cases it can be extremely underwhelming.

Nakumatt's attempt at a Christmas section. Nobody could even tell me where the wrapping paper was.

About as impressive as my attempt at courgette cake, though it did taste a lot better than it looked.

Made with a homegrown marrow.

Like I say, Christmas and New Year have been really quiet. I spent Christmas at CasaKeza, my friend Mia's café. It's a Spanish tapas restaurant and she makes extremely potent sangria.

Spent the night singing carols around a bonfire with friends Pieter, Dory and Lulu. Then stayed after hours helping Maia wrap her daughter's Christmas presents whilst drinking whisky. Crawled home at 4am. Lucky I live next door.

Dad sent over a parcel of presents - including a vast quantity of chocolate and something for the kitties.

And Santa Cat (AKA the kitties) left something for me in my bed.

Spent Christmas Dinner at my friend Pieter's. He cooked a nice spread and even had a tree. I had to retire early due to hangover.

Pieter's Cat Umva

Most of my friends sensibly left for New Year, but my friend Tracey came from Kenya for the night, along with her friends Olivia and Saira. Olivia had just stepped off the plane from Australia and Saira only a few days before. They're staying with Tracey in Nairobi but wanted to see the gorillas. We'd booked into a restaurant called Heaven, which is usually really lovely, but New Year was not so good. They basically put on the same buffet you can eat any day of the week in any restaurant in Kigali, and the place had all the atmosphere of a retirement village. We decided to eat, then high tailed it across town to a much nicer bar called Pilli Pilli, which is on top of a hill overlooking town. We saw the fireworks at the Convention Centre.

Sometime in between all that, Jo hosted a pizza night at her place. She has a gorgeous garden with a pizza oven and the booze always flows freely. It was a nice relaxed evening teaching the kids to throw a frisbee and making flower pizzas with Zuba.

I got a lift home with Maia as we live close to each other, but just as she was dropping me off, she got a call from a friend asking if we were going to the I Am Kigali festival, so we decided to check it out.

It was so bizarre. A rocking live music show... in the car park of Rwanda Revenue Authority.

Bit of a mind bender: "Yay! Music!" - "Ugh, taxes." - "Yay! Music!"

But it was a good night. There was a whole troop of Burundian drummers.

A great display of traditional drumming.

And very modern dancing.