Adventure to Kigali.

Le 15 decembre   About six weeks ago, I headed to Kigali to see if I could get some information from “the horse’s mouth” that was more straight-forward than the information online. Well, if I’ve learned one thing in Rwanda, it’s that a third-world country is not run like a developed country. (Yes, it sounds obvious enough, but it’s more difficult to live it.) I could find no information about which type of visa a volunteer should apply for, and the requirements didn’t vary greatly, the cost sure did. (465,000RWF for one vs. 50,000 RWF for another – 50,000RWF is just under $100)

From what I found in Kigali, I knew that there were a few documents that I would need my parents to send me from the States, so I called them right up and told them what I needed and arranged for it to be sent out as soon as possible. Afterall, mail takes about four weeks to get here to Gisenyi. Finally, with my last bit of hope, I called and got through to a competent person at the Immigration/Emmigration Office – she helped me to determine which visa and whether I would need any more documents.
 
I’ve been anxiously checking the boite postale in town for weeks, which is a major pain. The postal service seems like such a given in the US – mail comes to your house. When you’re waiting for mail and have to go to the post office each time to check it, freeing up your schedule and taking a taxi-moto all the way to the post (without being overcharged because you’re “muzungu”) and catching one back is not something I’m going to miss. FINALLY on Thursday when I went to check my b.p., the letter from my mother was there – AH! (If they hadn’t shown up, I’m not sure what I would have done.) So I headed out to Kigali on Sunday evening so that I could be among the first in line at the revenue office (to pay my 50,000RWF) and then get to the visa office on the other side of the building before everyone else.

Well, no other part of this process has been easy, why would this part? Though I had gone into the Word file that the former volunteer, Ms. Jacqui Krupsky, had handed in only changing the dates and my name, my Volunteer Contract wasn’t accepted. Why? “Because ‘To Whom It May Concern’ isn’t specific enough, how am I supposed to know who it’s going to?” I almost fell out of my chair. “The name of the office and address is right on top – I don’t know to exactly which person will process my application, so I can’t put a name.” Nonetheless, a no-go. Luckily, he also demanded a bit more detail in the body of the letter, so the upcoming struggle wasn’t just because of a technicality. (And I may perhaps never again use “to whom it may concern.”)

Not only did I have to reprint the document, when I asked if a superior in Kigali could sign the document because Gisenyi is 3 hours by bus, he said “No.” At this point I was on the verge of tears, feeling completely beaten by the system. After all this? I thought I’d had everything in order! I was so sure! (Oh, and mind you, the office only accepts new applications from 7am until 11:30 daily.)

I called up Sr. Gisele in Gisenyi, and promised to email her with the revised document within the hour, so that she could print it, sign it, stamp it (and stamps are like gold in Rwanda), then send it with the bus company’s courier. I re-typed the Volunteer Contract being as specific as humanly possible, and sent it along. About 3h30, I got a call from Sr. Gisele saying she was just printing it. Great! Whewph.

The next morning after mass and breakfast, I went to grab my documents and headed to the car. Sr. Lumiere asked me, “Where are you going?”

“With you, aren’t I?”

“Oh, I forgot to tell you – Sr. Gisele said that she will send the documents this morning and they should be here by 12h30.”

BEATEN again. This meant for sure one more day of just waiting, so I made myself useful around the house in Kigali – helping with housework and aiding in writing a few articles for the Salesian Bulletin (their newsletter). I picked up the letters in the afternoon and finally, finally was ready. Right? Could there possibly be any other problem with this process? I met an American on my way to pick up my letter and he said he’d had to go six times to the visa office.

The next morning, Sr. Lumiere, Sr. Furaha (who had to renew a visa), and I headed to the bureau, had to wait only a few minutes, and she had her turn…. I waited impatiently, fearing the worst. My heart fluttered as my turn came up, walking up with my documents to the same employee who had helped me two days ago. Instead of being particular about wording, though, he asked “How are you liking Gisenyi?” And proceeded to ask about my work. Two minutes later, he handed me a receipt and I was outta there! Ah! Success! At long last.