The next day we set out on a hunt for an ATM as we were running low on Rwandan Francs. Unbelievably, there are NO ATM’s in Rwanda!! We had to get cash advances from our Visas and Mastercard from the bank. After a cash injection, we set out to tour the city.
The Rwandan infrastructure and roads were top-notch. Kigali itself was a very nice and well-kept French-speaking city. Beggars were few and far between (the majority of beggars we encountered had missing limbs, particularly hands). Speed limits were followed, dalas enforced the maximum passenger rule and helmets were mandatory for boda boda rides, and there were crosswalks – how civilized!
We hopped on a bus tour around Kigali – although the tour was only us and one other goofy looking Belgian reporter. Our first stop was the school where the Belgian soldiers were executed during the 1994 genocide by the Hutu extremists (guaranteeing a withdrawal of the Belgian contingent). Nine of the young men were executed inside the building while one soldier was shot outside after attempting escape. There was a beautiful memorial on the property dedicated to these soldiers. Inside the school was also a memorial site as well as a small, informative genocide museum.
Next stop was the real Hotel Rwanda (from the film), located in the heart of the Kigali city centre. We were informed that this film portrayed portrayed Paul Rusesabagina (Done Cheadle), the manager of Sabena Hotel des Mill Collines, in an incorrect light. Mr. Rusesabagina did in fact house his wife and family members (the numbers in the film greatly inflated the actual number), but many of them were charged a hefty price for this service.
We also visited some of the newer and nicer districts of Kigali. One area was called the “Bel-Air of Kigali” and definitely lives up to its name with houses that would make some of the wealthiest Canadians blush – golf courses and tennis courts for locals included. We then went through a planned low-income housing development the government is building for people living in the slums. They have already started moving families out of poorer areas into big houses in a very nice part of town for no cost to the locals. In many ways in Rwanda there is a sense that the government is actually committed to providing tangible services to people and improving lives which is absent in Uganda and particularly Tanzania.
After the grand tour, Jamie and I headed on a mad hunt for Ethiopian food. After a wild goose chase of a taxi ride we finally landed at the perfect little Ethiopian restaurant. We walked in to blaring country western music and the most delicious aroma. Ethiopian food is the pinnacle of African culinary achievements. You are served a huge flat piece of sour bread (close to the size of the table) on which we had 7 or 8 different dips of varying spice (including goat ribs, goat, spinach, pork, chick peas, chicken). You break off little pieces of the bread, roll your food up into it and eat. The meal was absolutely incredible and afterwards we chatted with a very funny Ethiopian employee while we waited for our taxi. After an hour, there was no sign of our taxi so we set off to the nearest dala stand with another employee who happened to be a ridiculously giddy and chatty, aspiring reggae musician. He was on a mission to find us the cheapest possible means of transport possible. He scored us a very cheap dala ride and was overjoyed by his accomplishment.
Butare – The Intellectual Capital of Rwanda
Beautiful Lake Kibo
The bus ride to Kibuye was incredible. The scenery was stunning as we ascended and descended to varying altitudes through the hills. As we drove down the mountain and caught our first glimpse of Lake Kibo it took our breath away. The calm lake was cradled by mountains galore, views of the Congo in the distance. We pulled into the local bus stop and hopped on bodas to the Bethanie Hotel. We arrived at the hotel, a little piece of heaven, located just meters from the lakeside and we were in luck - there was one room left.
The only thing on the agenda for the next day was laziness. We spent the day relaxing and reading in the sun. I went for a dip in the lake while Jamie sat on the shore with his feet dangling in the water and read. It was so refreshing to be in the water that I stayed in for 3 hours. Jamie took a few photos and met a lovely local couple of newly weds and chatted with them until I was out. My hands looked like prunes which amused our new friends.
Our game plan was to drive from Rwanda to Mwanza, a town in Western Tanzania, and then fly to Kilimamjaro airport from there rather than take the bus back through Uganda and Kenya. We would have to travel from Kigali to Rusomo, a small border town in Rwanda and then enter Tanzania. We had expected this journey to take approximately 1 night and 2 days.
The next morning we headed to the bus stop to catch a lift into Kigali. We had a 2 hour delay so we sat in a local café and had a Fanta while we watched the hustle and bustle of the little town.
We pulled into Kigali just in time to miss our bus to Rusomo so we were stuck in Kigali for the night. We checked into a nice nearby hotel, had some supper, watched some movies and headed to bed.
6AM the next morning we found ourselves jammed back into another dala headed for the Tanzanian border. 5 hours later we arrived in Rusomo and crossed the border (walking over the Rusomo Falls) back onto Tanzanian soil. We instantly changed back to speaking Swahili and moments after crossing the border were greeted with a “jambo” - it felt good to be back.
After getting our Tanzanian Visas, we jumped in a taxi and headed to Benako (a little town with the closest bus station) where we would catch a bus to Mwanza. We arrived in Benako in time to find out there were no busses to Mwanza until tomorrow. Plan B was to take a bus to the next town Kahama where we could get a bus to Mwanza. After milk tea and a chapati, we were ready to roll.
The drive to Kahama was awesome – North Western Tanzania has much different scenery than we are used to in the Kilimanjaro and Northern Region. The land was very dry and desert-like. There appeared to be very few watering holes and the ones we saw were full of locals bathing and collecting water. The vegetation was also completely different – there were lots baobab trees and cattle far outnumbered crops. There seemed to be storks everywhere (the most disgusting, dirty, prehistoric-looking birds on the planet).
After several pit stops into villages along the way we arrived in dirty little Kahama to a giant mob at the bus station. This was by far the most intimidating crowd that we have experienced to-date. A huge shouting mob grabbed our bags and took us into one booking office. Offering us only Mzungu prices, we told the guy we would think about it and come the next day. On the way out of the bus park we bumped into another man who was offering us the same tickets for half the price. They offered to show us to a guest house but when we arrived it had many drunk men in the office, no electricity, or service to be found. We politely declined and proceeded to the nearest hostel which was not a recipe for a robbery. Our room there was lit by Christmas lights and looked like something out of the red light district, but it would do.
The next morning we ended up booking with the cheaper bus alternative. While we were waiting inside the little booking office we heard some commotion outside. The man that we first discussed tickets with was very drunk (at 7:30 am) and very angry that we didn’t do business with him. He went on a drunken rant about us outside with his friends and then came into the booking office. With broken English he expressed his anger. He told us that he was Somali (we both just finished reading a book about Somalia which characterizes Somalis as being violent and ill-tempered) and then proceeded to ramble about his life story, seeming to forget his anger. We made it onto our bus in one piece and headed to Mwanza.
The bus ride was bumpy and slow. It had a horn that sounded like it was straight out of the circus and it almost tipped over on one of the dirt roads. Two of the little boys behind me tapped me on the shoulder to strike up a nice little conversation and then wrapped it up by asking me for 1000 TSH. Classic Tanzanian bus ride.
As we approached Mwanza, the landscape changed again. Giant boulders started speckling the landscape. This was perhaps because we were approaching Lake Victoria (second biggest lake in the world to Canada’s Lake Superior – in your face Tanzania). Mwanza is a coastal town located on the lake and is a nice bustling little town. When we arrived in Mwanza we headed to PrecisionAir to book our flights. We missed the last flight for that day and flights were booked to Kilimanjaro for the following day. Jamie and I then headed to find a hotel, do some wandering and grab some chicken and chips and beers.
We stopped into PrecisionAir the next morning in hopes of flight cancellations for that day. Believe it or not, we were in luck. After packing we headed to the airport which turned out to be a hilariously tiny little building. We checked ourselves through security and chilled in the lounge with a few beers. Our flight was delayed and as we boarded the flight attendant added “it is too hot out. Your luggage won’t be on this plane.” We weren’t surprised. The plane was a propeller plane and very small. We were served a snack box containing apples and hot dogs. I thought we might die.
We made it back to Moshi in one piece and were greeted by our pals at the hostel. I sat down on the lawn in the backyard to tell stories and sat on a safari ant nest (see pic) – the pinching ants ran up the back of my shirt and down the back of my pants. That night I had a very itchy back and bottom. That night we also adopted a baby salamander who was attacked by a bigger salamander – we made him a little home in our room. He escaped or was eaten during the night.
A bit of an after note about our luggage - It was supposed to arrive the next day at 2 o’clock. At 2 o’clock Jamie showed up at the Precision Air office and surprise surprise – no luggage! They told him flights from Mwanza land at 3 and the shuttle will drop any luggage off at 4. At 4:30 he went back and was told that the luggage had arrived but the shuttle driver hadn’t wanted to wait for it so it was left at the airport. They assured us that it would be on the first shuttle tomorrow, set to arrive at 10 am. About an hour later the airport called Jamie and told him to come out the airport because it was easier than sending the luggage to Moshi. He told them that the hour long trip to the airport around dinner time was certainly not easier for him and to send it in the morning to Moshi. By 4 PM the next day the luggage finally arrived. We opened out our bag at home eager to change our clothes for the first time in almost a week to find that some of our clothes had been stolen from the bag. Ashante Sana PrecisionAir.
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