Haunted House

Umn...

So, yeah...

You've seen Amityville, right?

Jo and Zubadoo came over last night. We had a nice, relaxing time. Zuba's decided we're going to grow a Crunchy Nut Cornflake tree on the vegetable plot. That might prove profitable as they retail for around £9 a pack in Nakumatt (right next to the £5 mini tub of Marmite and the £12 standard size).

So, Jo was in the loo attending to Zuba, and I was standing outside the door talking to her. Ever since I moved in, I've noticed there's an extreme temperature difference in this part of the corridor. You're walking along, suddenly it's like you're having a hot flush. 

I felt this warm draft blow over me and, for the first time, looked up.

There is a really, really creepy hole in the ceiling. You can see right up to the rafters. That's why it felt so warm there, because the heat from the tin roof was radiating down.

I called to Jo, and we stared up at it for a moment, a little weirded out.

I said something like 'I wish they'd boarded that up,' then pointed out the crack in the toilet door, which I need to get a poster to put over.

"The Attic Man's peephole," she whispered.

Thanks, Jo! Seriously, thank you very much. I'm never going to sleep again.

None of this was helped by Zuba doing her three-year-old's impression of 'I see dead people.' Skipping around the living room, eyes all wild, staring at things that aren't there and running across the garden after her mummy shouting 'no no no no no' as though being chased.

Hmmmm.

I had just traumatised her with Beauty and the Beast, it's pretty dark I guess. Disney always scared the jeepers out of me, maybe for different reasons.

You're laughing by this point, I can tell.

Well, things got progressively un-funny.

Long story short, there was a gas fiasco. Lovely taxi man, Alfred, took my old bottle away and brought me a new one this morning. Thought Damascene was coming back after closing the gate, he didn't. I had a shopping list, so I wandered out to look for him, and found myself airborne.

That's right, I threw myself - quite spectacularly - down the porch steps.

If I'd known I was going to do it today, I would have shaved my legs for the camera.

Suffice to say, leg hair is the least of my problems at the moment. It's hard to kneel down for a bucket bath when you don't have any knees.

Can't remember the last time I tried to skin myself alive, and no idea what happened to my feet between the top step and the bottom. Picked myself up, dusted myself down, just as Damascene opened the gate. Rather relieved he wasn't there to witness that indelicate descent.

Put a bit of a dampener on my day, as I was going to town to buy some bedding and a water filter. After a little while I figured I could still walk, bandaged myself up, and decided to continue with my plans.

Only, I lost my wallet.

I took everything apart. You've never seen someone unpack a house so fast. Turned the bedding inside out, shook my suitcase across the floor, scoured every room - twice. 

Eventually, I used the St. Anthony trick (thanks Cathryn). Works every time.

Where was my wallet?

In my computer case, of course. Where else would it be?

All of this bad luck in one day. It's the curse of the Attic Man.

This place is haunted!

I've been trying to offset it with some feng shui. I've rearranged the office.

Put all three books that I own on the shelf...

I don't think I've ever owned so few books...

...and Friday Buddha from Lao. That's got to keep creepiness at bay, right?

Plus, I found this stuffed down the back of the bookshelf. It's either something from the Quran, and therefor a blessing, or it's an ancient curse, and that's why I fell down the steps. 

I'm taking my chances.

Finally made it into town. Life without a tape measure can be hard (can't find one anywhere, Jo's promised to give me one of her surplus). Bought the very biggest set of sheets, pillow cases and a duvet that was on offer... got home. Both look like doll's clothes on my giant bed. Thankfully Nakumatt do a 7-day return, and I have a meeting near there on Tuesday.

On the up side, I did manage to find a water filter. Got all creative when I got home. It's like a giant, shiny Kinder Egg, with all these bits inside that you have to assemble.

Need to let a couple of loads go through to let the dust settle on the candles - which is easier said than done when you don't have any water. Still, what little water we do have will be cheaper filtered through this than buying bottles.

Getting on well with Damascene today. The language barrier is excruciating at times, but he does seem to be on top of things. He's changed all the broken lightbulbs today, fixed my VSO suggestions box lock, bought and fitted a new curtain for the bathroom (right size, first time! - More than I can say for my attempt at bed sheets), cleaned the house and done a little bit of gardening.

I'm impressed. He seems to be hard working, although he has an unfortunate habit of being out whenever I, or a friend, arrives by car. Once he was at the barber's, once getting food, and once buying washing powder. This is the difference between a night guard (who is there all evening to open gates and provide security - theoretically), and a live-in domestic, who has to find time to live occasionally.

Pierre came to pick Jo and Zuba up last night, and helped me out with a little translation. We've established 'quiet time' - no radio, loud talking or rigorous cleaning before acceptable o'clock. No friends wandering around the compound. No coming into the house before I'm up and I've opened the doors. I want to change this to 'do the housework when I'm out' but it's like a genie in a lamp. You have to think through your wishes very carefully before making them. For instance, I'm giving him Sundays off, but what if someone is coming on Monday and I need the house cleaned? Because we can't discuss anything in a common language, I need to be sure that what I tell him when the translator is here will work for me when they're not.

I'm also starting Kinya lessons on Thursday. I'm ashamed that I've been in this country so long and the best I can do is argue with a moto driver. Nothing particularly useful or polite. Having Damascene is rather an incentive to put some effort in.

Rounded up today by cooking us both omelet special (basically omelet with chips in it - don't ask). He did re-hang most of my curtains.

Tour Number Two

Welcome to my new abode.

Hungover this morning. Didn't think my landlord made it back from the bar, but he surfaced early afternoon. He's packed and left now. Damascene has cleaned the house from top to bottom and been shopping for me.

Haven't got any gas though, so can't cook. Which is how I discovered Hello Food Rwanda. Pretty much any restaurant in Kigali doing deliveries to the door. My world will never be the same again. In many cases the delivery cost actually works out cheaper than going to the restaurant!

Took the opportunity to take a quick tour video whilst Damascene was off helping my landlord move his stuff. Truly having to pinch myself. This place is huge. Already thinking creatively about what to do with the vegetable plot, and contemplating what I could do with such an open space. Even without water, it's a fabulous property.

Couple more pics to go with the last lot:

Master bed - as big as my room at Step Town!

Nice view across the lawn from master bedroom.

Strange walk-in wardrobe room between master bedroom and shower.
Large mirrored wardrobes and a shoe rack.

Spare bathroom.

Master bathroom.

Domestic's self-contained house.

The bathrooms do look great, but the showers don't work during the day due to the water shortage. I think that's partly why the house is so cheap. Looking into going halves on a water tank. It is a bit of a shocker returning to chilly bucket-baths in the morning after the luxury of hot showers at Step Town and Gikondo. Even Kagugu had an electric shower head, which is what we can install here, if we had water.

Need to stock up on a few household bits and bobs, including plastic wash bowls for easier bucket bathing, bathroom mat, couple of bins and some bedding for the master bedroom. All made slightly more difficult by the lack of tape measures. Can't seem to find one anywhere, and I have a lot of stuff to measure.

Finally home. Fridge is working, beer is cooling - though after last night's antics, I may swear off alcohol forever. Haven't moved into the office yet as I've discovered the pleasures of the livingroom table next to an open patio door with the sun streaming in. Very bright and airy house. Shall begin unpacking shortly as Jo and Zubadoo are coming round.

Random Happy

:))))))))))

Heeheeheeheehee.

So, my landlord got home tired and a bit stressed. I said he should stay tonight rather than try to pack. He offered me the master bedroom, but his stuff's in there, so I said I'd be happy to crash in the spare room (utter hardship, I'll get to that in a minute...). He showed me around - the usual: which keys fit what, which switches turn on/off the lights.

Then he said he was going into town to meet some friends. I was going to lock the door behind him, so we were saying goodbye when I asked if there was anywhere to get take-out nearby. I hadn't eaten and wasn't too sure what to do about food as I hadn't had a chance to buy any vegetables.

So began an utterly random and fabulously awesome night.

He suggested getting food in Kisimenti. We took motos up there, but my default bar, Izola, was packed and very loud, so he suggested walking up the road a bit. I thought he meant to Sole Luna, but it was getting late and the place looked closed. We were already chatting away by then, and we just kept walking.

We walked, and talked, all the way to Sundowner, which took about an hour. It's the most exercise I've had in a month and my body was singing with gratitude.

I'd only been to this bar once, about six years ago, and boy had the place changed. It's super cool. All fairy lights and loud music. I saw more muzungus in one night than I think I've seen since I got here, but predominantly Rwandans and Indians. A truly multi-cultural hangout. 

Spotted a table of what I can only assume to be Brits from the evidence. Very proud of my countrywo/men.

As it turns out, my landlord is a bit of a dude. Like Fidens, he's a really interesting guy to chat to, and kind-hearted and intelligent. Everything you could ask for in a drinking buddy.

We were joined by his cousin at about 1am, and she got us up on the dance floor for a little boogie, where we briefly bumped into Jon from The Office. Turns out my landlord used to be a semi-regular member, and knows Jon quite well. Now I'm renting a house from him. As Jon said, 'small town.'

I had to bail around 2am as I was starting to flag, and wanted to give my landlord a chance to catch up with his cousin, who was visiting from France. Hopped a moto home, but turns out he'd given me the wrong gate key by mistake. My guard was sound asleep, so I ended up zooming back across town to get the right key. It was pretty funny, locked out of my own house on the first night. I've also perfected the art of napping on the back of a moto, and can now ride arms folded like a local again, even over speed bumps. My 'moto sense' has returned. 

So, it was around 3am when I got in, and just gone 4am now that I've brushed my teeth and finished typing. I'm camped out in the spare room. The photo does not do it justice, the bed is a huge queen-sized, and this is only the small one! Not only that, but I squealed with joy and disbelief - it is a sprung mattress! Not Rwandafoam (TM)! A proper, proper, bouncy bed. I may never leave it again.

Also realised that you could actually walk, quite comfortably, from my house to the airport. Fascinating thought that, had I the money, I could just wheel my suitcase to the end of the road and go anywhere in the world. Something to aspire to.

For now, I'm about to shut down my computer, roll over and sleep for England, or Rwanda... possibly the entire African continent.

It is blissfully silent here.

East Side Story

(Panoramic - Click to Enlarge)

Incredible view from Step Town balcony, where the manager let me hide out for the afternoon.

I mentioned that my landlord hasn't moved out of the house I've just moved into? I'm sitting waiting for him to get home from work to see whether he plans to move out tonight, and where the fridge and kitchen shelves are that he promised.

First he asked if I could move in Sunday instead. I said no, I'd already spent a week in a hotel so that he could pack. Then I told him I was moving in at 4pm, so he said 'come any time you like, I'll be at work until 8:30pm'. I said 'okay, I'll come straight there after check-out.' He said 'actually, 4pm is better so the domestic can clean.' So, I chillaxed and admired the view with a fish brochette and a cup of tea until then.

 

Still remnants of Kiyovu abakene (Poor Kiyovu)
among the modern buildings.

Then I treated myself to Alfred the taxi driver's four-wheeled comfort. The guy who dropped me off from Gikondo when I moved out. Didn't feel like doing a moto juggling act, thought it would be a real shame to hospitalise myself en route to a decent night's sleep.

Tried knocking on the gate, tried beeping the horn. Eventually had to call my landlord to get him to call the domestic to open the gate. I must admit, managing staff is my biggest cringe-point about being an ex-pat. Most Rwandans have staff, even those on surprisingly low wages, but it takes quite a bit of getting used to for a muzungu. I now have a live-in domestic. Comes with the house. He has his own quarters at the back. He sleeps, eats and everythings there.

He eventually let me in, and I took a few quick snaps before the light faded. 

This is my new pad.

Cute Stool

Hope he leaves the drum.

Vegetable Plot

Front Garden

The Mansion

Rather splendid, huh?

No water, but two bedrooms, two bathrooms and an office, which could be a third bedroom if needed. All for the same price as the little apartment I was living in at Gikondo.

Pretty awesome.

*

Update! Well, who knew. Fridge has arrived! So has the landlord, looking tired after a long day. He was about to start packing, but I took pity and suggested he stays tonight and packs up tomorrow. 

Will be nice to have a chance to talk to him about the water tank idea. I've said I might go halves on one. It would be nice to have a shower in the mornings rather than a bucket bath. I wouldn't hesitate if I knew that I was staying, but my working visa is up for renewal in January and it would be a shame to invest if I had to leave so soon. 

For now, though, the world is pretty much as it should be. Not too sure what I'm doing about dinner yet, but this time tomorrow I hope to be cracking open my first cold beer whilst watching the sun set over Kigali from my beautiful porch. My spirit is renewed.

Exasperating

First time in years I've ever regretted being single, because, right now, I am in desperate need of a shoulder rub.

As the sun begins to set on my lovely time at the hotel, my new landlord informs me that he hasn't actually moved out of my new house yet. He asked whether I could come on Sunday instead.

As much as I like it here, I'm not about to blow another $100 waiting for him to get his act together. The only reason we agreed 1st August on the contract was to give him a week to pack. I've told him I'm moving in at 4pm tomorrow. The rest is his problem.

Meanwhile, I went into town today, to the bank that only lets me withdraw FRW 200,000 at the ATM when I really needed 250,000 (that's an irritating anti-fraud measure imposed by the UK, not a problem with my Rwandan bank), then I went to Nakumatt to try to buy the one thing they don't sell (colouring pencils), then I went to the post office to... no, let's not even discuss what happened at the post office. 

Suffice to say, I made the mistake of walking back to the hotel, and was quite literally chased there by a man who wanted me to pay either a gas bill or school tuition. It was hard to tell whilst he was waving it in my face and railroading me into a three-foot drainage ditch.

People, it's just been one of those months.

I'm done.

Tomorrow is the start of a brand new month. 

Fingers crossed.

There have been some good things. I got my bank card and, more importantly, my Nakumatt loyalty card the other day. That's right, I'm a card carrying member of Kenya's finest (only?) supermarket chain.

Bank card with a baby gorilla.
Nakumatt card with an elephant.

Surprised the hotel staff the other night by flipping to the back of the menu (the non-muzungu section), and ordering ugali. I just wanted to see how it compared to my efforts. Opted for cassava, as that's the stuff I use at home, and maize is really stinky.

Anyway, the presentation was fabulous, and the ugali was much firmer than I make it, obviously they used less water or cooked it for longer, and they'd moulded it into this perfect ball. I am going to find out how they did that. There wasn't a lump in it. The meat sauce was really good too, but I think I prefer my bean stew.

Anyway, it has been nice here. I've eaten my own body weight in brochettes. Jo and Fidens were on my porch last night for drinks. Also made friends with a waiter who asked me if I was married, then asked me if I was a virgin. I asked him if he had any brothers and sisters, watched his face fall, then asked how old he was. Haven't made that mistake since induction training seven years ago. Felt like a prize prat.

Cannot wait to move into my own place. My own, quiet, place. I may never leave again, except to make money to stock it with beer and fresh fruit. 

I've got a good week lined up. Interviewing a couple more Associates for my business on Monday, visiting a Ministry on Tuesday, and hopefully delivering my first quote to my first billable client on Wednesday. It's only a small job, but it's a job. That's money coming in instead of going out. Which is an improvement.

Step Town

A post from a very happy bunny today.

It was my final night at the apartment last night, and boy did they go all out. It was like trying to sleep next to a party of those drunken hyenas from The Lion King: inane laughter and random screeching until 4:30am, then the music started up again at 6:40. I maybe got a grand total of two hours' sleep.

But I don't care, because it's over.

At 11am Jo's fabulous driver appeared like a knight in a shining white taxi to whisk me away to my house-to-be in Kanombe. I managed to get the right road, but the wrong gate. I was about to knock when my next-door-neighbour-to-be opened it and informed me it was the bigger, very grand gate next door.

Every time I see my new place, I'm impressed all over again.

We deposited my stuff with my new guard, Damascene, and then headed over to Step Town, that lovely hotel I went to with Fidens. I am now safely ensconced until 1st August, when I officially move in.

This place is wonderful - and quiet. I have a nice little en suite room with a veranda and internet access. There are two giant giraffes outside, which remind me of the stuffed toys Martine & Ruairí gave me when I left Rwanda the first time. Even the tiles are patterned like giraffe skin.

The perfect place to sleep for the next five days. There's even a beautiful view of the city from where I'm sitting. 

I feel so relieved to be out of there, but it was a learning experience and if it hadn't happened I might never have found my new home. Looking forward to Skyping family, reading some books, watching some movies and sleeping. Most of all, sleeping.