I'm late for my lift this morning. My driver, who has other jobs to do, waits for me. I find myself rushed into a 7am breakfast, which I know I don't want. Dried bread rolls out of a packet and ícayayi cy 'amata - milky tea. This drink is so far removed from a cup of English breakfast tea as it is possible to imagine. Served in plastic mugs, the slightly brown boiled milk is poured out of a kettle and tastes rather like, well.. boiled milk.
After the obligatory hand washing, we queue in front of tureens of stewed bananas, spinach, peas, beans and meat, which may or may not be goat. The food is ladled high onto plastic plates topped with 'sauce'. It's not difficult to get your five a day, but vast quantities are eaten to get enough protein.
Rwandan hospitality rarely includes being offered tea or any drink. With the generous meals we eat, both in homes and cafes, Coke and Fanta are offered as a standard alternative to milky tea. I drink the sugary caffine laden drink which my body craves. I hear the fizz of my teeth decaying with every meal.
Put the kettle on, I'll be home soon.
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