This post is a catch up for the last couple of days. I left the cottage where I have been staying on Monday, but before that I had an uncomfortable and embarrassing visit on Sunday night.
I preached here in Bujumbura on Sunday morning and then had lunch with Domitien and the leader of this group of churches (see previous post). When we had finished, Domitien took me back to the cottage and said that he would not come back that night, but would see me on Monday.
Because I wasn’t expecting him back, and the girls were out, I thought I was safe to get into my jamas around 7. Fortunately I did think to take a gown out to the living room with me “just in case”.
Sometime later there was a knock at the door – Domitien had come to sort out a few last-minute things. I quickly scrambled into the gown – my jamas are definitely not suitable for public viewing, particularly by a male. I was soooo embarrassed!
Then it got worse. He went off to tell the managers of the place that I would be leaving in the morning, then came back saying they were asking why I had not come to visit them, and wanted either for me to go to them or them to come to visit me. Excuse me? I’m in my nightwear!
This man had actually come to the door about a week ago and asked why I had not visited. My first reaction (to myself, not to him) was, Why would I visit you? I don’t know you. Then I realized that at that point Domitien had not yet paid for the cottage, and I thought this was a subtle way of asking when I was going to pay.
But no, he really meant that he wanted me to visit them. The concept of “dropping in” to visit someone I don’t know and have no real reason to visit is totally foreign to me, both as an Aussie and as a classic introvert, but apparently here it is perfectly normal to visit people you don’t know, and you are considered to be strange if you don’t. So they came to visit: him, his wife, and the owner of the property, and I was expected to chat with these total strangers as if they were my lifelong buddies, and as if I were actually dressed in a manner suitable to receive visitors rather than in my nightwear. To make matters worse the wife sat there in silence the whole time, with an expression as if she was looking down on me.
Fortunately Domitien carried most of the conversation, but when I said that I was uncomfortable with this visit he berated me for “not fitting in with the culture” as though this were the first time I had ever done missions. In all, it was a very unpleasant experience.
On Monday I moved over to the convent. As nice as the cottage was, I wish they had booked me in here for the whole time. It is much cheaper than the cottage (although that was also very cheap for what it is) and, most importantly to me, it has good internet reception which means I can work from my room and not have to go over to Domitien’s home all the time to get online.
I have a single room, small but adequate. Elisha’s room had a bed, a table, a chair and a lamp (2 Kings 4:10) – I have all that (if you count the electric light as a lamp) plus a cupboard and toilet and shower. There is no fan, but with the window open it is pleasantly cool most of the day.
Meals are available for a small fee. At the moment I am catering my own breakfasts (muesli and yoghurt) but having lunch here. The lunches are very tasty – a good variety of veg and nicely cooked. On Monday there was a little meat, yesterday a fish.
There are a couple of challenges. Firstly, hardly anyone here speaks English – and what little I remember of my schoolgirl French isn’t even remotely adequate for communication. So making my wishes known is a real challenge. Even getting my morning yoghurt out of the fridge in the kitchen requires much gesturing and repetition.
The second, which is by no means unique to this place, is that the bed has one of those horrible foam mattresses that give absolutely zero support for the back. Every bed I have slept in here in Africa has these things, and my poor old back is far from happy about them. In a couple of places I have actually got out of bed and slept on the floor, which is far more comfortable.
The other challenge, again not unique to here, is power. I was working on the computer yesterday afternoon when suddenly I noticed that it was not charging, and had obviously been not charging for some time as it was at a very low battery level. At first I thought the power point in this room had died, but when I was finally able to get someone who understood enough English for me to explain we found that the power was off through the building – but interestingly not the lights.
My computer was too low on battery for me to continue using it, and my phone was also too low for me to play games. So I had a very boring night and ended up going to bed early. The power was still off this morning, and I was beginning to be anxious because I had visions of being stuck without my phone and therefore with no way of communicating with anyone. However, after breakfast it came back so as I type this both phone and computer are happily charging.