Continuing Through Rwanda

7/22/08
OK this is picking up where I left off driving through Rwanda....

So while we were driving through the rural Rwanda all the townspeople just sat on the front porches of the little shanties they live in and stared. The kids would yell and wave enthusiastically as we passed by, continuously shouting "mzungu!" which means "white person." (I mean, seriously, can you imagine kids in the American suburbs shouting "black person," every time an African American was seen, I don't think that'd go over too well....) Apparently, the villagers in this countryside don't see white people at all. The children were just so fascinated with us!

The nearer we got to Goma, the worse the poverty became. Driving through Rwanda, some of the towns were cute, primitive, but cute. But now the towns are rust and dirt and broken tin - just ridiculously poor. It's funny though, in all the villages we drove past, whenever there was a meadow children were playing soccer.

We got to Goma around 6:30 p.m. It's a three-hour drive from Kigali. It's winter in Goma now though, so it was dark by then. Harper met us at the border and I was so excited to see her. Of course the border crossing was a big frickin' deal the way Africa likes to play it to be. I mean no offense, but is there anything I could really bring into Congo right now that would make the country worse off - no. I hadn't gotten my visa for Congo yet-but Harper pretty much took care of that for me quickly. But before that, we had to wait awhile to even cross the two feet from Rwanda to Congo because a Congolese soldier had gotten drunk and pulled the pin on a grenade and was waving it around. Lovely, happens to me everyday!

After the drunk grenade incident was taken care of, we crossed, got my visa, and then had to wait some more because Harper was trying to convince "customs," not to check our luggage but yet she didn't want to bribe them again. So as Harper was negotiating with the soldiers, I found my self on the border of the Democratic Republic of Congo in the dark, waiting for Harper to bribe the police so we can take our luggage hassle-free, and I thought to my self. "How the hell did I get into this situation." OK my hand hurts from writing. I will continue later.