Arrival.

Wow. I have arrived at the place I will be calling home for the coming months; yesterday I arrived in Butare, Rwanda. Land of a thousand hills.

Left Arusha on Wednesday afternoon, my seat located exactly above one of the bus tires. Luvely. Had forgotten that bumpy roads can actually hurt your body from both the in- and outside. The night, while we drove through Kenya, was very cold. Speed differences were major. At some points, we crawled forward like some cripple caterpillar, because 3 bumps immediately after each other are not unusual here. And, when official speed bumps were absent, we still drove on African roads… During other moments, when the night outside could not possibly become any darker, and the road allowed us, we speeded like we were on a crazy rollercoaster ride. Kind of scary, especially for local people who use the road; it truly is a miracle not more accidents happen. At dusk, I found myself at the border of Uganda, which turned out to be a very green country, with a lot of small-scale agriculture. At the beginning of the afternoon I arrived in Kampala, where I had to wait 10 hours, for a next bus, to take me to Rwanda. Walked through a very crowded part of the city, to find toothpaste, see something, and to get myself some food. Mhmm, that hot chapatti from a street-cart tasted better than ever! When I had seen enough, I got on a motor-taxi, on which the driver took me back to the bus station, zig-zagging between the traffic of countless minibuses, pedestrians, motors, trucks, etc. I must have been smiling all the time.

After I had all the time in the world to finish my book, we left the city only 45 minutes late, on our way south. Again lots of dark hours without seeing much, but I was tired enough to sleep a little. And than, this morning, I walked into Rwanda! I wish you could see it yourself; it is beautiful and so very colourful. But it might be my perception, because I’ve been looking forward to it so much. I guess pictures will need to give an answer in the future. Today, the bus struggled to climb up the mountains, but dropped into a free fall each time after having reached the highest point. Even more scary for other people on the road this time, because of all the curves and bends.

Since I've been passing all those borders, my passport has become a lot more interesting, and if anyone ever wants to enrol in the course 'How to cross African borders', please let me know. Another new skill is that I can tell you my passport number, anytime you want. How useful.