Day 5 ~ Pity, Shame and Biblical Rain
I thought I knew what biblical rain was. Asia has nothing on Africa.
The rain actually Roared last night. I didn’t know rain could make that sound. In the middle of the night, from a dead sleep, in reaction to the sound, I leapt out of bed (as much as one can leap while tangled in mosquito nets, sheets and a small child) only to realise as I stood in the middle of my room that all I wanted to do was crawl back into bed, pull the covers over my head, and pray that our brick and concrete dwelling would withstand the torrent.
It did.
Today is Day 5. We had plans to go into town today, go to the bank, go shopping for some real food. (We’ve been surviving on rice, baked beans and sautéed veggies… I know, I know, I’m a rich Canadian girl complaining about my diet in Africa. It’s shameful. But if I can’t whinge here, where can I whinge?)
Hopping on the back of a motorbike and taking the 25-minute ride into town in the rain with no rain jacket or even a handy garbage bag to wear? (Plastic bags are illegal in Rwanda). No thank you.
In the spirit of bitching, let me continue. I’ve not had a decent night’s sleep since arriving – this is partially due to jet lag, but mostly due to the fact that I’m sharing a single bed with my 5-year-old Son who thrashes in his sleep. I’m used to this, but lately his trashing has the added, exciting element of a nylon, Velcro and Metal wrist brace. At any moment I have to be poised to grab his arm as it sails across the bed toward my face.
After Five nights of terrible sleep I woke this morning feeling rather morose and full of self-pity. To top that off, someone was walking around on our tin roof.
Why? Why would someone feel the need to be walking on our tin roof at 5am?! I crawl out of bed and stomp outside, ready to express my displeasure. As I round the house and start up the hill to get a good look at the Person who has the nerve… A GIANT bird eyes me from our roof, considers whether or not I’d make a tasty breakfast snack, then takes flight.
Oh. That’s who has the nerve.
African Crowned Eagle (Oh, just one of the 10 largest birds of prey in the world)
On my way back into the house I take a look at the guardhouse. We have a night guard that sleeps in what is essentially a brick shack just a few metres from our front door.
Guardhouse on the Right
I pop my head in, just to see what it contained. I instantly felt sheepish for evercomplaining about my bed, the creatures on my roof… really, anything at all.
The shack contained: an old stained foamy mattress that had been folded into thirds in order to make it at all cushiony, and a filthy, tattered “blanket”. No mosquito net, no cot, not even a light.
Well Naomi, at least you don’t have a pea under your mattress.
