It is Sunday again, August 12. As usual, I wash my clothes in the morning. It is quite hot today. I help Gabi, the housekeeper, cook lunch, peel potatoes and prepare beans. Beatrice has made an appointment for me at the saloon where I had the braids made. Of course, I get there too late, because lunch was not finished early enough, but it doesn’t really matter. Today, the saloon is not crowded. Apart from the lady who is going to remove my braids, there is only one other woman, the pregnant one, and some men. I sit down on the floor and the lady, let’s call her Auntie, immediately starts working on me. She cuts half of the braid and then opens the other half before pulling out the fake hair. Twice, another girl helps, but those two disappear quickly and Auntie works alone. As the time passes, she becomes less gentle with me and my scalp hurts. Another big woman is getting braids now, in black and brown. She talks a lot. After about three hours, the job is done and the last brown strand is removed. I am told to sit down in a chair in front of a mirror. It looks as if I am having a perm now. My hair is combed and even they are a bit concerned about how much hair I loose. For some reason, I am not as shocked as I expected. Of course, I feel uneasy, but it surely helps that I knew what to expect.
I feel a bit awkward walking home with hair like this. However, why should anybody think I normally don’t look like this? One guy even calls me beautiful lady. If he knew. Gabi also says I look nice. Anyway, I know this is not going to stay for long. Nothing more than water will do the trick and everything will be back to normal - almost. Gabi helps me with the washing. We take a basin and fill it with water. A blanket wrapped around me, I kneel down next to it and Gabi pours the water over my head and gives my hair a good soapy scrub. Instead of shocking, this whole situation is quite funny. Most of my hair has already been removed at the saloon, so I only have to do a small part of this sad task and in my current mood, I am not too concerned. Gabi enjoys brushing even the little hair that is left and by the time Beatrice returns to the house from her own trip to the saloon to reattach her dreadlocks, I look almost normal.
We have been invited to our neighbours. They are giving a small party, because their children, twins, have had their confirmation. The kids sit outside, the adults occupy the living room. Although regarding age, I probably fit better to the group outside, of course I get a place with the adults. We have food and drinks and the father of the children introduces them to the guests. I sit next to a man who speaks English and it is interesting for me and Beatrice to talk to him. He also works in something like a NGO, in the education sector and has spent three years in Malawi. He has also been to Asia, for example Thailand and Bangladesh. Although he can’t explain why Rwandans don’t smile on pictures, he agrees that in other countries, especially weddings are much more cheerful occasions. On the other hand, Rwandans are much more open than people from Asia. Here they hug each other, men and women, while Asians are rather reserved. The man tells us about a project he is working on and catches the interest of another guest, who works for World Vision. This is how networking works.
