Geting into my stride again - or not

Thursday 15 Oct

After posting the previous entry I leave the computer room at CGFK at 6.10 pm. The room has curtains drawn and light switched on, so I am unprepared for the deep gloom that meets me outside the door. 6.15 or so is usually a good time to walk home before dark. But large and plentiful puddles tell me it has rained hard in my absence today and the cloud has not cleared. I should have thought it would be darker than usual. Still, Antoine's car is not here so there's not chance of a lift – I'll just have to be competent.

As I retrace my steps from an hour earlier I see nobody I recognise. I hear and return a few Bonjour's and one Muraho (Hello). The little boy who took my hand and accompanied me past a couple of houses before being called back is no longer out. More people say nothing than something and that's OK though unusual. Perhaps this is home-going behaviour.

After crossing the main road I veer steeply downhill. I can distinguish more or less between wetter and drier mud; I can see puddles. There is a young woman in a light coloured wrap in front of me and I think I might just follow her track. But she is going too slowly for me – at her speed I shall definitely be struggling by the end of my journey. As I pass her I see she has a baby on her back, covered by a white cloth. (I've had quite a lot of mothers and babies to study in the workshop over the last two days, and this is standard practice.)

I continue down this route, just wide enough for a car and pedestrians, deciding to stay on it as it curves in the wrong direction, rather than risk something more minor. Two days ago, in full sunlight, taking what I judged to be the very shortest cut, I ended up slithering on gravel and landing hard. I pass the house with the garish wall and the blue roof – no suggestion of colour in the dark now, so I'm glad not to be depending on that clue. Turning left along the hard beaten road that runs from the market at Kicukiro all the way to the wall of Antoine's compound, I have much more choice of who to follow. I realise, too, that some of the features of this road are now quite predictable; I hadn't expected to be glad to see the deep gully outside the charcoal seller's tin shack. Another hundred yards and I am at Antoine's back gate. I stretch on tiptoe to unlatch the keeper at the top, find the bolt is not dropped, stretch up again to engage the fastening once I am through, fish for the key and let myself in.


Up until now I have had no inclination to do more than my programme requires. Deviations from the familiar or the accompanied have crossed my mind. Shall I see if I can find somewhere to eat a snack rather than getting home around 3 and waiting for some lunch to be found? Shall I visit the little guest house where I began my stay last time and see if Francine, who looked after me, is there? Shall I find a hardware shop or stall and price the cups and plates I've offered to buy for the church at Gasharu? So far my exercise of initiative has been limited to improvising ways to fill unexpected gaps in teaching arrangements when materials or food have failed to materialise.

Suddenly it's now-or-not-until-next-year time. There are still almost two weeks before I leave, but next week I'm leaving town from Sunday till Tuesday to visit a British Quaker VSO in the far south east, then teaching from Wednesday to Saturday. I am hoping to have an unhurried conversation with Debby Thomas about her moringa project and some of my techniques, but she will be back in town from Kenya only tomorrow.

In 10 minutes on the phone I set up three meetings for tomorrow, a day without teaching. David Bucura will come at 8.30 to collect the suitcase full of clothing and we'll use the occasion to review my current work and future direction. At 10 I'll meet the young Canadian Mennonite couple working on capacity building at Friends Peace House. (I've already seen the bag and raised gardens in their garden near the church at Kagarama, and shown them to some students.) At 2.30 I've a proposal for Solange, one of the HROC core team, growing out of a suggestion from Dave Zarembka.

If my energy stays high I shall also phone the British Embassy for advice on which category would be most appropriate for Antoine's visa application. And if I can find the phone number for ISAR, the Rwandan agricultural research organisation, I shall try to make an appointment to meet one of the researchers credited in a 2008 African indigenous vegetables report.


Saturday 5pm

Well, my energy is fine. All the planned meetings have happened. It looks as if tomorrow will be very busy but manageable: shopping with church women for cups and plates, shopping with Antoine for food, meeting with Dave Z and David B, cooking dinner for Antoine's family. Early on Sunday I'm off to the south east corner to visit a Quaker woman working in a primary school for VSO, and not back till Tuesday afternoon.

The British Embassy was closed when I rang at 2pm. I haven't found a phone number for ISAR yet. I'm about to google recipes for creme anglaise at Annunciata's request, though I'm not confident I can make it on a charcoal cooker without temperature control.

Walking home at lunch time in full daylight and light rain, I slipped and fell in the mud. So much for striding. Let Sandrine, nearly 12, have the last word: 'You were walking too fast.'