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  • Day 44

    What's with the name changes?

    February 14, 2016 in Rwanda ⋅ ⛅ 25 °C

    Alright Rwanda, pick a name already! Honestly, except for Kigali, the capital, every town we've visited has changed their names either in recent years (so it shows as both options in lonely planet) or in the last year. For the most part, we've been attempting to explain where we want to go, plan buses, ask questions about towns, all of which we are referring to in the wrong name! The worst part is when taking the bus, because there's so little English, communication starts with us expressing where we want to go, and them telling us how much, and they hand over the ticket. The destination is written on the ticket. The following towns, all of which we travelled to, were written on the ticket as a name we didn't recognize :

    Huye was now Butare
    Gikongoro was now Nyamagabe
    Kibuye was now Karongi
    Gitarama was now Muhanga
    Gisenyi was now Rubavu
    Ruhengeri will be Musanze after tomorrow. That one we looked up!

    So for example, we were headed to Kibuye yesterday. We asked for Kibuye, they give us a ticket written Karongi. We confirm with the ticket lady that we are going to Kibuye, not Karongi, and she says "yes yes Kibuye". So off we went. We also confirm with the guy checking tickets on the bus "Kibuye not Karongi" to which he responds "Kibuye Kibuye". We arrive at the town of Karongi, as indicated by many signs, and a lady next to us tells us to get off. We were so confused, especially since our book said it would be a 5 hour bus ride and it had only been 2.5 hours (but as you've read, our Lonely Planet has been terrible for Rwanda, it's like they never came to do the research). At this point there's about 5 people telling us to get off, none of which have enough English or French to explain why, and the bus driver who is supposed to signal to us when we're there, drives off. Jack and I are still so confused. The people around us yell at the driver to stop, and finally a lady turns to me and says "change name, Kibuye now Karongi". Ah ha! English! So we get off. Turns out, they all changed names! Now we know to ask all possible names so we can avoid this in the future.

    Yesterday and today were a mix of transportation and relaxing. We stood at a bus stop in the middle of nowhere waiting for a bus for about an hour yesterday, getting us to Kibuye, a town of lounging and enjoying the scenery. There's apparently a beach somewhere, but about 2 feet wide of thick grainy sand, so we just went for a walk and enjoyed the green everywhere. Even the ride over was gorgeous! Field after field of green farming perfectly squared off. We stayed at a church of course, Home Saint Jean, where the room was clean and cheap! It was at the very tip of a little peninsula on the lake, perfect location and amazing views for 6000RFr for the night (10.90$C). Coming home on Saturday afternoon, we heard 3 different choirs practising for tomorrow. It was a beautiful and serene atmosphere.

    We walked around town, stumbling upon a market yesterday. Jack had a craving for guacamole the other day, so we challenged ourselves to make some! Got what we needed at the market, borrowed the tools from the restaurant at our hotel, and voilà! Some pretty decent guacamole, not that I eat it, ew avocado, but Jack liked it! :)

    We debatted if we should stay a second night to just laze around, but decided to make our way to Gisenyi (Rubavu now), a very similar low key water front town. We were told the transit time was 3 hours, which is easy, plenty of time to relax at both towns. Turns out, we left at 1pm and arrived here at 830pm. Yep, not so relaxing of a day after all. Our second bus was supposed to take 3 hours and it took over 4.5. He kept stopping at all the towns but then waiting there... Who knows for what. And of course no one had the English or French to try and explain the ridiculous delays. So we wait. Jack likes to remind me that the lack of communication only confirms that we really are somewhere where we are the minority, we have the true opportunity to see Rwanda as Rwandans do. There are so few tourists here, it's impressive. Untainted land to discover.

    We still managed to finish on a high note, walking over to our chosen accommodation, settling into our room (Presbyterian Church this time!), going out for some local food and having a drink. We're planning a picnic on the beach for lunch tomorrow as our on little valentine's day date. We'll see how that goes!

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    Travellers we met along the way have said Rwanda is very safe. I didn't understand what they were comparing it to, or why, but that's what people said. Turns out, at night, even if it's dark out, you do have a sense of safety - people are still walking around, no one appears to hesitate around each other no matter the time of day... We met an Indian man who lives in Kigali who said he tried living in Kampala before settling in Kigali but choose to leave because he couldn't walk around at night. Here, he can. And I get it.

    I also have this odd, undescribable impression of Rwanda that I will now attempt to form into words... The people still all seem to be mourning... Or if it's not mourning, there's a certain lack of liveliness... It's all quite somber, or maybe more reserved. Yes people will say hi to you, they will giggle and stare, but as a general feeling, it seems somber. I absolutely loved my few days in Uganda because their people were all so smiley and welcoming and open to attempt communication, even if it's without words, there's happiness and liveliness all around. I don't have that same feeling in Rwanda. Like I said, hard to explain. I wonder if what used to be mourning is now almost a cultural trait, a way of life learned through sadness...
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