In rwanda…and this is another dyslexic post

Lawrence and I are here to make a documentary film of the lifes and works of Rwandans…We have started on our first story, it is still unfolding as we go along. It is one we never even planned to do (we had planned and sort of drafted five individual stories before hand).We never planned to start on day two. It is a little scary but it is great too, it coming along great. We have decided to take it as ‘Usable |Research’

We got in on Sunday morning, 5.30 am…instead of saturday evening 10.30pm- thanks to the unexplained long delay at Nairobi airport and another at the Bunjumbura airport …there was a short delay in Amsterdam too….takes the whole idea out of the word “Flying”.

these delays have also been very noticeable in the food delivery at restuarants around kigali, the order comes in 50minutes later. It’s weird how more and more Ugandan i feel when am in Rwanda.

My last day in italy was great.

I had five euros …four coins that added up to four euros and about another six coins in cents which i only assumed would add to a euro if i had a sudden need for it.

With things like money, am very consistent. A day before the trip, my wallet is always pointless, and so is my bank card.  But, what-ever!, i had a great night, almost the best night….i got out of bed at 1pm, had a cold shower, and faced the my splitting headache… the worst one in a long time. I mummblingly searched through each ache, the types of drinks i had consumed the night before, flashes of last night came back to me with words and actions…. I listened to Fabrizio De’Andre…i listened to myself … Breakfast at on a balcony.

I worried about meeting with Lawrence in an hour, we had agreed to meet at 3pm the night before (or rather that morning at the party). I was no in shape to talk about production and the trip.

The church announced the hour 3, I walked to find lawrence, and the energy for the day….We rescheduled to six. I walked in the direction of my house, like a zombie.  At my house, in mybedroom, I spent an imagined 30 minutes, lying flat on my back, contemplating whether to start packing or nap for a bit…. i woke up 2hours later to the annoying ring of my door bell.

It was sunny outside, Lars and Kingston had come to take me for a afternoon Gelato!…there are gestures that draw me to fall in love with some people. This was one of them. I asked them to come up. We had tea and great conversation instead of the Gelato. They left at 7.10…asked me to go over at Lars house for dinner; they would be making me a cosy goodbye dinner.

I kissed them on both cheeks, separetely, goodbye, conviced that i was cured of the hangover, I promised to see them at 9-ish for dinner. I promised to start packing right then. The meeting with lawrence had been re-reschudeled. I was to spend a night at his apartment since thats where the cab was coming to pick us up at 5am.

I started to pack…i realised that i hated packing, for long trips. i realised that i hated it because i couldn’t quite make up my mind on what to take and what not to. i realised that i can’t quite make up my mind coz the very few times i have packed for long trips, there has been some one else helping me do it, or  doing it for me. yes i am a spoiled fool. even then, thats not the I kept wondering why there wasnt any one there to help do it. What are friends for…

Well one friend did show up, a beautiful boy. I fingured i wouldnt get time to see him before i leave and things had gotten a little weird between us in the last two days, only in the last two days…unnecessary eye shifting-looking past me into the distance, when actually i am not in that distance but a footstep away…

anyway, i asked to come watch me pack, coz i thought he might help- coz i thought we might have an honest chat…i was leaving after all, nothing would hurt. he didnt help with the packing (he’s told me before that it is therapuatic to Just watch people work). we talked about the night before -(the night before had been Valerie’s birthday party. The theme was Gods and Goddesses…almost all the boys came half nakes, wraped carelessly in white sheets…Roman Gods…there was too much alcohol, it was like any other Fabrica theme Party…the morning after or afternoon afternoon, there is enough gossip and hangovers to last a…)-.

My bedroom was a mess of clothes and stuff, i was still deciding whether to only pack three t-shirts and three pair of jeans, all of my underwear and moisturiser and leave it at that…oh and five of my fav. books (this is what i did eventually)… or to think in terms of how long am going to be away, what am going to be doing during this time, in details, and what sort of stuff might be necessary.

I stopped and we talked…..he was not going to be pursing me anymore, he had decided.

Consindering that i was preparing  for the most exciting project in my life in the next few hours (excluding the packing to Fabrica), which at that moment and two weeks prior was (is) the only event of my focus,  I did  feel a little heart broken by this ‘abruptness’. 

I begun the Q &A…it did seem appropriate (and really weird):  “why?!”.  Because i dont think it is the right thing.  “When did you come up with this realisation- that pursuing me isn’t the right thing to do”.  three days ago. “Why then didnt you tell me three days ago”.              Because i was still processing this thought in my head.         – in the meantime, with this seemingly painful explanation, I couldn’t help but be constantly distracted by my memories of the night or rather the morning before, the events of which had absolutely nothing to do with the conversation at hand or the beautiful boy seated on my bedroom chair, opposite whom i was sat, on my little bed, looking like shit.  My brain was talking, and loudly too: “why does every think he looks like Cameron Diaz’s ex, he looks like beckham, seriously he does“. …

We continued to talk, it did come off like a break-up even when there was never anything really; it was supposed to go differently i know. simple. But when two people sit down to talk about boy-girl relations, things always come off differently, especially for the boys, they say what they didnt mean to say or in the way the didnt mean to say it. I know this. and because am a horrible person, I played with it.

It didnt give me any satisfaction, coz in the end, it wasn’t fun and games, i got pissed off…i realised there was more to this than I had pre-determined. Extras. I hate Extras. We said goodbye. In two months.  He left. 

Arto called. almost immediately after he left. He was back in Paris. He was calling coz he remembered it was my last night in Europe. This was the third gesture of the day that floored me. We talked about my inability to pack…he told me to remember soap (as an addition to my three jeans, three t-shirts and five books arrangement). I thanked him. We talked about Australia, we joked about marriage and July and Australia. I told him about the boy that had just been in my room. He gave me a slight update on the project in Paris: Paris is undeniably great, he said. Even with the few problems i am countering for my  project, i love it. i am living in great neighbourhood. We had talked about this neighbourhood with our last email conversation, before he left again for Rio-Brazil.

Maybe I will see him July. I hope to…he is always great….July is a big month for me. Carol, Scott (if he comes), editing, and re-uniting with Fabrica.

By the time we were done with the phone conversation, it was, i had to go to dinner with Lars and Kingston. I had planned to meet Maia, I was supposed to see Chris too…I skyped both, separately. Told Chris i would buzz his door on the way to Lars’s, Told Maia i would see her after dinner.

I had shower, a very quick and second shower of the afternoon, dressed up and walked to meet the boys…Chris wasnt at his house. I walked on to Lars’s.  Lars, Kingston, Chris and Lorenzo. We had an amazing time, it felt very intimate. it felt like i would see them the day after, it felt okay to be leaving, great even, to be leaving for work is always great.

It was past midnight, I couldnt meet Maia. I had to go finish up packing and go to lawrence’s flat for the night. Chris offered to help with the bags. I got to Lawrence’s at about 1.30am.

At 5am, we were out of there into the Taxi… I had forgotten my jacket at Lawrence’s flat, I had forgotten shampoo, hair conditioner and a hair dryer at mine….

Chris had answered to my question do you think i have forgotten anything… with “Yes, of course you have forgotten something”.

Thank God it wasn’t my passport i had forgotten as Lawrence worried very many times that dayuntil we got on the plane..

when we got to the venice airport, 6.30am, we both went: Finally!


 This morning at breakfast he told me: doesn’t Fabrica feel like Five Years ago, like our past life…i looked him and nodded in affirmative.

If I had spoken, I would have said, Not all of it. not most of it. just some of the above.



       plus also to get an excuse to that will see lawrence have his alone time.
We might be getting an apartment…good financially and alone times when needed.


5 Comments Add yours

  1. The Emrys says:

    i can tell you wrote this while you still had that splitting headache and broken heart 😀

    welcome back to the africa, ha!

    and socks suckazz!!

  2. The Emrys says:

    dyslexic indeed!!

  3. The Emrys says:

    er…phoebe, where you at girl?

  4. Sleek says:

    but emrys, 3 comments!!u can want…

  5. Sleek says:

    i have read the whole post!!!!obugalo…been away a while..and from this, you’ve been busy..naughty and busy…but you can oso write eh!!

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