The Swing

Yesterday my emotions swung hard and fast. We woke feeling relatively at home and set out in the morning to make a tyre swing for the children. Will has been asking to go to a playground, so it seemed like a good time to begin making one. I had noticed a corner of the market where a handful of men cut up huge tyres to make thongs and other items, and when we approached them it took several minutes with our dictionary and big hand movements to explain what we were after. One of the men somehow understood us, and went to find a smaller tyre that would suit the purpose. When he returned he spent quite some time cutting along our pen-drawn lines with sweat beading on his forehead, occasionally telling the large crowd of young men looking on to go away and let him work in peace. It was quite amusing at the end to see five grown men, including Tim, working together to turn the thing inside out.

The maker got a good wage and carried the tyre swing home for us, with some suitable pride I must say, explaining as we walked that he had two young children himself and another on the way. We thanked him gladly when he turned back towards the market at our gate, then began to scrub the swing clean in a shaded spot on the lawn. While we were at the task, the man returned with another in tow. The second handed me my mobile phone. I thanked him gladly and he waited, expecting a reward. As I walked inside to get one I noticed a text message, and opened it. “2000 francs have been transferred from this phone to the following number 078432.” I rang it, and behold, the man’s phone began to ring. Cross at the theft, I told him sternly that he had his reward and goodbye. He stayed. In fast Kinyarwanda I guessed him to be saying he expected more. Andrew returned from town and began to help, a local pastor became involved, and after quite some heated conversation I can sum up what had happened.

While at the market talking about prices, we had used my phone (as usual when we have trouble understanding) by asking someone to type the numbers in. Shop keepers have often used their own phones to do this for us. The man (not the maker of the swing but another in the crowd who sells mattresses) took the offered phone and typed. At the end of all the ta-do of tyre-making I forgot to make sure he had given it back, and so he quietly kept it. Then he turned up at our gate and pretended he had got it from another person who had ‘stolen it’, presenting himself as the hero. I noticed the text about transferred money, and on calling the receiving number heard his phone ring. His phone has two sim cards, and as the argument commenced he quietly removed the one he had transferred the money to (although Tim saw it done) and then tried to say it had not been transferred to his phone but to ‘the man who had stolen it’. By the end everyone was telling him off, including the maker of the swing, and he left in a huff.

2000 francs is not a lot of money ($4), but after all his deception and dishonesty I felt quite betrayed. Previously I had felt quite safe and able to trust the people I met. I needed to go back to the market to get some vegetables but felt too cross and hurt to return to the place where it had happened. After a few hours I regained perspective, remembering that we have met countless honest and caring people since our arrival, even at the market where locals warned us to be careful, and this was the very first who had betrayed my trust. Back at the market, I walked past the tyre section and was greeted with smiles (I am sure they had been told the whole story and was relieved to see friendly faces).

For the first time I was at the market with a local, Jane, and discovered that her capable presence made mine unnecessary. It is actually more fun muddling along on our own, trying to make ourselves understood. I am glad we have gone alone from the beginning, or I would have felt quite daunted by the idea if this had been our first experience!

At home again, the children had a wonderful time on their new tyre swing. They beamed from ear to ear and did not want to get off. They have made a constant beeline for it. Will is even consciously using it to make himself feel better when sad (he spoke to his best friend Amelia in the morning on Skype and was feeling very far away from her after saying goodbye). “The swing makes me feel better,” he explained after asking to be pushed yet again.