Le Esperance or is that La Mancha? - Rest of the post

Breakfast today, hot oatmeal with fresh mulberries.

It's raining so I'm able to add text but not pictures at this moment. Pictures are coming after I wake up. If you'd like to browse through the entire album of Sunday's pictures go to http://picasaweb.google.com/Leifpenrose/KigaliSonographyTripToKibuyeAndLeEsperant

I got up a bit late this morning (7:00 am). Hurried to get dressed and down to the bus stop. I took a bus into town and liked the price $150FRw (30 cents US) compared to the $700 FRw that I pay the motos. I was at the street where all of the buses meet by 8:15. I found a helpful young man to take me to the buses that go to Kibuye. First place had no seats available until noon. It was the same answer at place #2, so we went outside to talk. I came back to ask a question and the clerk said she could get me on the 10:15 after all. $1,700 FRw for a 2.5 hour bus ride seems pretty reasonable to me.

The wait was interesting. A bus backed into the holding area and the moment that the driver stopped, there was a mad dash with pushing, shoving and jostling for seats. As I stood watching a well dressed Rwandan man came up to me and inquired about my destination. He assured me that the now over packed bus was not the one that I was to get on. He seemed embarrassed about the scene I'd just witnessed. "I've told them that that all have tickets and will be seated appropriately. There is no need for this scrum." Indeed, the driver started to collect tickets and as he did people had to get off because they had dashed onto the wrong bus. as soon as those folks were off there was room for everyone. The only place I've seen public displays of irritation have been around the buses.

There were many disabled/disfigured people begging at the bus station. Two men who had remnants of legs folded under them moved about with Flip-Flops on their hands. A couple of young men had partial arms and would thrust them forward so you could see their disability and and then simply stand in front of you.

I was the only muzunga but I'm getting used to the staring. The older people seem more polite and discrete. The younger the person the more blatant the stare. I've taken to wearing my sun glasses more than I might otherwise. Luckily I'm not too self conscious. I asked every 15 minutes or so if the bus to Kibuye had arrived. Finally a young man came to me and said he would make sure I got on the right bus when it arrived and good to his word the moment it came in he lead me to it. I was so glad that both going and coming I got to sit up front in the passenger seat next to a window! These are really not a bus but rather Toyota Hiace vans stuffed with passengers.

The ride was gorgeous and the man who sat in the middle worked for United Nations Refugee program (and spoke very good English). He could tell me the various commodities that were being walked/carried down the road. Yellow 5 gallon plastic cans with a banana stuffed into the end were for carrying milk to sell or buy. Bundles of grass on the head were for feeding those cows. Bundles of sticks on the head were for cooking. Bundles of Aloe Vera leaves on the head were for market. Bundles of sugar cane on the head or back of a bike were going to the refinery.

The road was very well constructed with lots of planning for dealing with runoff. You could tell wherever there was a house that there was a little "mini bridge" crossing from the bank over the road drainage culvert to the road. Also, where it was steep a set of stone/concrete steps had been constructed and vertical curbs of the same materials to direct water into the culverts.

I've gotta run I'll add more later, Abdul is beeping at the gate!

So here’s my adventure: I’m going to a place I don’t know, I don’t have an address in a city I’ve never been to, to see a guy I don’t know, who doesn’t know I’m coming and I don’t know if he’ll even be there or actually what I’ll say to him. I’ve got no specific message and didn’t take him anything because I don’t know if he needs anything. I’ve got no phone to call (hate to get one for just seven weeks) and no e-mail address to e-mail. La Mancha, Rosalinda, I’m deluded but whatever happens it’s fine as long as I’m back in Kigali by Monday, 7:30 am.

I’d found out from the Rwanda SDA Union Office that Le Esperance is in Kibuye not Kigali, they said once there to ask for directions. So when I arrived in what I would term a small town and asked, they said the only way to get there was by moto, and it would be $5,000 Frw. I asked how far it would be and they said 1 hour by moto each way... Hmmm I’m hungry I better eat first. So I look for a place to eat and find a small restaurant. On the way into the eatery I said hello to a young man by the door. He seemed delighted to practice his English so I asked again about the location of Le Esperance and was again told 1 hour by moto and his buddy (about 14 years old) standing next to him had just had lunch and would be more than happy to take me after my food. A quick lunch of cabbage salad and beans I’m ready to go. I ask the price of this new fellow but he’s had a chance to inquire and sticks the $5,000 FRw. Well I didn’t come this far to be turned back

I knew that KHI (The locals all pronounce KHI "Kashi") had a branch that many of the house mates are required to go to periodically so I want to see this place as well. After some picture drawings we are on are way to KHI Kiyube and then on to the orphanage. What a lovely setting for a campus. Right on the shores of Lake Kivu. Just magnificent.

Off paved roads and 1 hour of dodging potholes and washouts through the hills of Africa along the north shore heading south out of Kiyube. Young Mr. Hodgson is a long ways from anywhere. I haven’t seen signs of electrification since we left town (Wires re-appeared near Le Esperance). There are huts and/or villages almost constantly. The hills are all being subsistence farmed in intricate shelves and ledges from top to the bottom. Most of those shelves are very very steep. Kigali is the city of a thousand hills and Rwanda (at least this part) could be called the country of a million hills. I have heard it called the Alps of Africa. I haven’t seen the Alps but there a whole lot of steep hills. We passed probably 100+ kids (and a fair number of adults) along the side of the road and each time it’s "Muzunga! , Muzunga! , Muzunga! " as soon as they see my white hands and face.

After an hour, sure enough a far hillside has a sign Le Esperance! Ten more minutes and we get there. There is a guarded gate (who’d have guessed) and they do have a John Hodgson & They’ll take me to the "Pastor". The Moto driver is not happy to be waiting and wants to know how long. 1 - 2 hours, , , ,It’s expensive for me to wait, ,,,,No , , , , 1 hour. Okay I say and walk off. I haven’t paid him anything yet... If he gets mad and leaves he won’t have a dime so I know my best assurance of getting the ride back is to not pay yet.

Jonothan Hodgson hears us coming and comes out of the administration building. A tall, handsome, ruddy faced, blond man shakes my hand welcoming me to Le Esperance. Even though I’ve seen pictures on the web site I think this can’t be the guy I’ve come to see because he has a thoroughly thick French accent! But he insists he is and who am I again and what am I here for again?

We meet Aja Diggelman who is supposed to be from Switzerland based on the web page picture but she sounds as though she’s from somewhere in the British empire. Yowzza these crazy accents!! She is getting ready to take a group down to the lake to swim 10 minutes later & I’d have missed my visit. (Or had to hike down to the lake, , , which seemed a long ways down).

Jonathon takes me on a tour and we sit to visit by the guest house (which he invites me to come share sometime, , perhaps tonight??). He has been here since June 2007 and no he wouldn’t have asked me to bring anything because there is nothing that he needs. There were some snags in his arrangements which left him without funds for the first half of his time. But now things are looking up and he is proud of what he’s been able to accomplish for the orphans. He shared a bit of history and tells about the vision the director has for the orphanage. Currently they have almost 100 orphans from a few months old to early twenties. They are working to try to create a sustainable self supporting orphanage. To accomplish the goal they are currently planting trees that produce dryable fruits which they hope to have certified organic, solar dried, transported by boat to Kubuye or some other town and then shipped out for profit. "Would I like to see the farm??"

Jonathon says he did not grow up growing things but from the information he passes on as we tour the farm I would have never guessed. He is intelligent and well spoken and has a calm self assurance that is quite enviable. I’m afraid to quote numbers (I’ll come back and edit later to get them right) but they have almost 1,000 papaya trees, hundreds avocado, what seemed like over a thousand pineapple plants, hundreds of banana plants. They are growing their own carrots, green beans, beans corn and soy beans.

They’ve recently had all of their beds and mattresses updated, have painted the houses, planted grass, installed rain water collectors on the roofs that gather the water on four 10,000 liter tanks for fresh water. A house for infants has recently been added and they have dreams/plans of adding an eco-lodge down by the lake. They have solar electricity panels in the administration building and a separate building for teaching sewing.

I’ve barely touched the surface of this amazing place. It’s on the top of a hill surrounded by lush hills and Lake Kivu. From the campus you can see a church prominently mentioned in the book " We wish to inform you that tomorrow we will be killed with our families". It’s all so impressive but I realize that time has been passing quickly. I haven’t worn a watch for 20 years so I’m pretty good about telling time by the sun. I remember that I’ve got a ticket to return on the last bus out of Kiyube @ 5:00 pm and it’s close to 4:00 (Sun estimate). A quick exchange of e-mail addresses (they go to a hospital over the hill that has electricity) and get his phone number (He has one!!!). The moto boy is ready to go and we’re off.

The whole way back I’m thinking out scenarios in case I miss the bus, , not enough Francs to get a decent hotel, No phone to call Dr. Konn & let her know I’ll be late and didn’t bring her number anyways (It’s in my PDA which I figured I wouldn’t need), No banks in Kibuye and they wouldn’t be open on Sunday anyway, if we miss the bus it won’t be by much, that would suck. So my mind whirls and plans the whole hour back.... There is no bus at the station!! Pay the moto-boy, up the steps and the time is 4:45. Bus is due in any minute. Can I find a toilette anywhere?? So the bus man takes me to a place that allows me the use of their facilities.

I purchase a mango drink and then back to the bus stop just as the bus pulls in, Hop into the front passenger seat the moment it becomes vacant. I get to visit with some KHI nursing students who area on their way back to Kigali for another week of school. The trip back is equally winding. Some poor chap in the back gets car sick half way back , , , , They stop the bus , , , he gets out to empty the rest of his stomach , , , , they leave him!!! No one seems to think anything of it. We continue into the dark when it becomes very frightening for all of the people who are walking in the roadway the whole way back to Kigali with cars and buses and motos periodically blaring their Beep Beeps and me hoping I don’t see anybody creamed for not moving fast enough in the right direction.

In Kigali by 8:00 pm quick moto home & I’m at the guest house by 8:30. I’m tired just thinking about it. :-)