First my future roommate and I decided we would like to see what we were actually expected to teach so we took it upon ourselves to go to the National Curriculum Development Center and see if we could get our hands on the curriculum. We got on a minibus which are strange because everyone essentially sits on top of each other. We asked the driver to tell us when we were near the center after about two stops and he insisted we were going in the wrong direction. So off we got and walked along the road aimlessly until we confirmed with a very nice Rwandan doctor that yes we were headed in the right direction in the first place. Grr, so we decided to haggle for a taxi which went something like this, NCDC how much? 3000. 2000! no 3000. OK. So in we got very unimpressed with our complete lack of Rwandan transport savvy and bargaining skills.
Upon arriving at the center we found that all the doors within it were closed and there was no receptionist. Again, we found ourselves wandering aimlessly until a very nice man asked, "Who is coming?" Rwandese for what are you doing here? We explained our predicament and he said to follow him. So out we went to his car and he drove us about 200 yards to a random building in an even more random location where we met with a man named Joseph. Joseph looked at us blankly when we told him what we were there for and then gave us a number to call not that day but the next morning. Needless to say mission not accomplished after 3 solid hours of trying.
After this lesson in bureaucracy we decided to take moto's to the British embassy because my mom insisted I had to register. Apparently the British are the best at evacuating. ha! I forgot to mention that on the taxi ride earlier we had witnessed a moto accident with our own eyes! A very slow one but one of the drivers had a passenger and she looked shell shocked when she got up. A lesson in Rwandan community though, as soon as the crash happened every single person on the sidewalks rushed to the middle of the very busy street to help all parties.
So anyway after driving back and forth on the embassy road we finally spotted the itty bitty British embassy. We got inside only to find that the embassy is only open 9-12 and 2-4. tough job. We were there at 12:09 and s.o.l. So Shira knew about a place nearby where she had gotten samosas for 100 francs which we went to and instead found cars full of food being unloaded for a Rwandan lunch buffet. Jackpot! We piled our plates with rice and beans and even avocados and got a soda for the equivalent of two dollars.
After two hours passed we went back to the embassy and went through the obligatory security process which took about 20 minutes and then registered which took about five. While I was registering a very English looking man appeared behind the glass of the receptionists area. My friend Dan was looking at a West Midlands from above book and held it up to the man with a big cheesy grin and thumbs up sign mostly for our humor benefit. Well the man walked right ou,t gave us a weird look and a sheepish hello, and then hopped in the back of a Land Rover. (The only one I saw on the embassy grounds all the others were toyotas, I had a problem with that) When his assistant came back in we were told that sure enough that was not some embassy worker that was the ambassador himself and we had managed to make complete fools of ourselves.
Finally we hopped on a minibus home having accomplished only one of a multitude of things we had set out to do. I guess I'll just have to get used to it. At least we made it home on this minibus and didn't get kicked off! Stupid Mizungus.
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