Well, it was always going to happen. I've been to my fair share of festivals and camping holidays, so washing in bowls of cold water I take in my stride. But here on the edge of Lake Kivu, with it's luxury lakeside hotels, my hopes for a flushing toilet ran high. I was to be disappointed. Porcelain lavatories exist in most middle class city homes and public places. They are often, unfortunately, padlocked. Requesting a key via 'the boy' can be time consuming, not to mention embarrassing, especially if you need a translator. Once you've achieved your goal, the toilets rarely flush and require a bowl of water to sloosh everything away.
Waking to the sounds of Rwanadan music at 4am this morning did not predispose me to like it. I do however, it makes me feel alive and it's impossible to ignore. In my snug room in Gisenyi Friends Guest House I did not get up and dance, but stayed in bed enjoying the warmth if the approaching day.
Next to our 'hole in the ground' flourishing the black volcanic soil flourishes a vegetable plot. Cabbages, squash and bananas grow with unseemly abandon. The children change the sound track. Songs from the Glee cast. I ask Sandrine who her favourite artists are."Rhianna, Beonyce, Justin Bieber". In the blink of an eye she is no longer Hutu, Tutsi or even Rwandan, but that inexplicable and very exclusive tribe of 14 year old girls the world over.
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