Ferguson - Road trip Rwanda: a journey into the new heart of Africa

ROAD TRIP

RWANDA

ALSO BY WILL FERGUSON

TRAVEL MEMOIRS

Beyond Belfast:

A 560-Mile Walk Across Northern Ireland on Sore Feet

Hitching Rides with Buddha:

A Journey Across Japan

Beauty Tips from Moose Jaw:

Travels in Search of Canada

FICTION

419

Spanish Fly

Happiness

HUMOUR

Canadian Pie

How to Be a Canadian (with Ian Ferguson)

Why I Hate Canadians

CHRISTMAS MEMOIR

Coal Dust Kisses

AS EDITOR

The Penguin Anthology of Canadian Humour

AS SONGWRITER

Lyricist for the songs Con Men and Call Girls, Part One, When the Circus Comes to Town, and Losin Hand on the Tom Philips music CD Spanish Fly

ROAD TRIP

RWANDA

A Journey into the New Heart of Africa

WILL FERGUSON

VIKING

an imprint of Penguin Canada Books Inc., a Penguin Random House Company

Published by the Penguin Group

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First published 2015

Copyright Will Ferguson, 2015

Photos copyright Will Ferguson, 2015, used by permission

Cover design: Daniel Cullen

Cover images: Gorilla: Mark Higgins/Shutterstock

Font: PremiumVector/Shutterstock

Author photograph: Alex Ferguson

All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

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Maps created by Lisa Jager

LIBRARY AND ARCHIVES CANADA CATALOGUING IN PUBLICATION

Ferguson, Will. Author

Road trip Rwanda : a journey into the new heart of

Africa / Will Ferguson.

Includes bibliographical reference.

ISBN 978-0-670-06642-1 (bound)

1. Ferguson, WillTravelRwanda. 2. Authors, Canadian (English)20th centuryTravelRwanda. 3. RwandaSocial conditions21st century. 4. RwandaDescription and travel.

I. Title.

DT450.44.F47 2015967.57104'3C2015-903919-3

eBook ISBN 978-0-14-319619-8

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AUTHORS NOTE

IN 2006, RWANDA REORGANIZED its administrative boundaries, merging twelve smaller provinces into five larger ones. Regional cities and towns that bore the names of the older provinces had their names changed as well. This can be confusing for visitors, especially those with an interest in Rwandan history. Books and testimonies about the genocide, for example, do not refer to Huye but Butare, not to Rubavu but Gisenyi. Ive employed the older names throughout, while acknowledging the new ones in parentheses. On the maps, I have reversed this, listing the current names followed by formerly

RUSUMO FALLS

THE BRIDGE AT THE END OF RWANDA crosses the Akagera River in a single, graceful arc: a thin span joining the scrub hills of southern Rwanda with those of northern Tanzania.

Below the bridge, a drama is playing out. The milk-tea waters of an otherwise languid river narrow suddenly into the bottleneck of Rusumo Falls, a tumult more heard than seen. Only a trace of mist hints at the waterfalls presence.

Transport trucks from Tanzania rumble across the bridge, the din from their engines drowning out the sound of water, but Rusumo is always there, just out of sight.

I want to walk out onto the bridge and peer down at the falls but I cant, even though the two Rwandan soldiers posted therea young man and a young woman in heavy olive-green uniforms, rifles slung over shoulders, faces sheened in perspirationshrugged and gave me a weary go ahead wave when I asked. Just dont go past the middle of the bridge, they advised, because after that I would be Tanzanias concern.

This is the crux of the conundrum I face: I have permission, but I dont. Or rather, I have two conflicting sets of permission, one granted by the soldiers at the bridge, the other being withheld by an officious little man who has disappeared with my passport and papers. Normally, I would say take your cues from the people who are armedin my experience, an AK-47 generally trumps a stamp padbut one never wants to underestimate the power of a mid-level bureaucrat to ruin ones day.

So.

I do not walk onto the bridge.

Instead I sit, sticky-shirted in the heat, under the rapidly diminishing slice of shade afforded by the corrugated overhang of the roof at the Rwanda Customs and Immigrationwell, hall is too grand a word. Bungalow is more accurate. Its a squat, cement-walled structure with a warren of offices in the back and a pair of bank-teller-type windows out front where forms are duly shuffled and stamped.

A procession of tired-looking Tanzanian truck drivers, paperwork in hand, moves past me. And is there anything more wilted or damp in this world than the paperwork of a Tanzanian truck driver? At times, this procession becomes a crush of bodies, the air pungent with perspiration, and as the men push through, they give me sympathetic nods and deeply curious looks. A muzungu, flesh the colour of boiled pork, forced to wait? Unfathomable.

I appreciate their concern, even if none of the drivers offer to smuggle me across. Under a sack of coffee beans, say.

So I sit here, marinating in the heat, and I wonder what has become of Jean-Claude. I wonder whether he has been arrested. I wonder whether I will be arrested. More importantly, I wonder what were going to do about lunch.

Im stuck in a no mans land, the term a tad misleading at a border crossing packed with drivers and vehicles, trucks wedged in every which way like a giant game of Jenga. At the top of the hill, Rwandan taverns are cooing promises of Primus beer and welcoming shade. But I cant retreat and I cant move forward. I can only wait.

As one hour drips by, then another, I make friends with a succession of Tanzanian truck drivers. They speak French, Swahili, and a bit of Kinyarwanda, with a smattering of English thrown in more for style than substance.

Fortunately, I speak Truck Driver, a form of male-speak found in most countries. Using a range of gestures (often involving eyebrows, puffed-cheek exhalations, and the pantomimed fanning of ones brow), we are able to come to an agreement, for example, that it is very hot out. We likewise agree that a beer would be good right about now. We are also in favour of women. Other points covered include: man, is it hot; too hot, really; someone should sell beer down here, theyd make a lot of money; women, eh? Cor!