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Time is flying

  • bethstephenson123
  • Jun 8
  • 4 min read

The drivers continue to be crazy but we have not yet had an accident! If you saw some of the intersections we regularly traverse, you'd have an idea of how big a miracle that is. We live in an area where the only way to get anywhere requires driving into intersections where nobody has the right of way. There are cars, trucks, Made-in-Rwanda-three-wheeled-sorta-like-trucks, (similar to a tuk-tuk in Thailand) pedestrians, hundreds of motorcycles most with passengers, bicycles also with passengers or impossible loads of cargo. (I've seen bicycles with 300 + pounds of cargo, (usually food))

The rule says that if you stick your hood into the stream of traffic, you must block oncoming traffic enough to make them stop before you obtain the right of way.

The Church calls the person in the passenger seat the "Co-driver." I'm the co-driver, since Jeff hasn't got the temperament for staying calm when I might pull in front of a giant, overloaded truck. I've learned to tell him "clear on the right except for three motorcycles."

You might think that those three motorcycles would mean the way wasn't clear, but if they are driving closer to the right shoulder than the middle of the lane, that means that there's room for them to move over as we pull into traffic.

If someone ahead is driving a ten ton truck loaded with 20 tons of rocks, it's likely going very slowly. (Did I mention that Rwanda is called the "Land of a Thousand Hills?") It doesn't matter if it's going uphill or downhill, (those are the only choices here) someone will pass it. If we're immediately behind it and coming to a blind corner, it's likely that another car will pass both of us. If there's a car coming in the other (narrow) lane, it's polite to create a gap for the passing car to wedge into, rather than letting the game of chicken proceed.

Motorcycle taxis, (motos) pass anywhere, anytime, on the right or left or weaving between our hood and the back bumper of the car ahead.

Truly, it's every man for himself. But here's the interesting thing.

If a car honks, it's just to warn you that it's about to do something incredibly dangerous. If you do something really dumb, nobody honks. Survival of the fittest. If you got away with it, you're justified.

The roads here are mostly too narrow for the huge trucks, so they drive halfway over the centerline. Luckily, the Church has cars like the night bus in Harry Potter that reshape and squeeze through traffic funnels without harm or time warp. I'm learning not to scream out and scare the driver.

The best part is that the roadways here in Rwanda keep me in a constant state of repentance. Say we need milk. . .we head out on the 2 mile jaunt to our usual store. A motorcycle turns in front of us and cleans our bumper with his pant leg, but without injury. We go 200 more feet and a taxi passes an oncoming truck and a moto passes the taxi at the same time. My life flashes before my eyes and I repent of all unfinished business. Another 20 yards and a bicycle toting six 80 pound bags of concrete is pedaling up the hill, but loses balance and swerves in front of us. His life flashes before my eyes. I repent of caring less about his life than my own.

Another 20 yards and a bus pulls out as we're passing the stop, forcing us into the oncoming lane where six motos swerve without slowing down to pass us going the other way. One of us says something about the intelligence of the bus driver and then we have to repent quickly because there's a taxi passing us on the left on a narrow road while a moto is passing us on he right and there's a car coming toward us in our lane as they pass a slow truck that weighs 15 times as much as the cars. If I have leftover sins, I have to repent double fast before I meet a certain death.

But we survive and get to the store without injury to the car or ourselves AND fully repentant. The guards in the parking lot search our car if they don't recognize us. By the time we go inside, we need a chocolate fix, fast.

Sweets are ridiculously expensive here, ($7 a snicker bar if you can find them, and no peanut M&M's ANYWHERE, so we buy fruit and vegetables, (cheap) and milk by the shelf-stable liter box. (Usually a dozen at a time) (Not bad at all when cold). We buy an artisan loaf of bread and have it sliced. I look over the meat display, (nothing prepackaged) If they have the beef loin, I'll buy 2 kilos. It costs about 12000 francs per kilo so that interprets to about $4 a pound. And I swear its filet mignon: super lean and tender. The no-fat ground beef, (called mince) costs about 8000 francs per kilo. It literally has no visible fat. The computes to about $2.50 per pound.

By the time we go home, I'm happy about the nice meat, tomatoes, potatoes, pineapples, passion fruit, blocoli (their spelling, not mine,) and fresh bakery bread. Jeff is happy because he sneaked some pastries into the cart for about $.35 each. We buy extras to give to our guards, (the gate-tenders at our duplex. . .AKA the most boring job in the world.) to help keep our consciences quiet, (and because we love them.)

I'm still teaching piano and my students are progressing. We also teach temple preparation, and we're doing lots of training and work to help the new district presidency. Our 5 branches ask us to help with training and teaching and whatever else they might need, and we teach English classes for missionaries three times a week. We're almost finished teaching English Connect 2 for the members out in Kinyinya, so we'll have another open slot for one of our other branches.

In three weeks, we will get a new mission president, so there will likely be lots of changes and adjustments. We're looking forward to meeting the new mission leaders. Life is good...very, very good.

 
 
 

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