26 Kamena 2013—Ntabwo Byárâheenze Cyaane...

I thought this post would cover two days; I have not had to combine yet, but everything I should blog about from Wednesday fits into the following two paragraphs:

I got over to Nyabugogo, hitching a ride with a friend who I had been meaning to see. This was only briefly, but I walked around the bus terminal there a bit, long enough to gleefully notice that the foreign exchange bureaux had Congolese francs. I got 25,000 of them for 2,000 Rwandan francs, or about $3.

In the evening, I went to dinner with a friend and her group of American students. We ate at Lalibela (which must be the name of about 70% of all Ethiopian restaurants) in Kimihurura, which has a great buffet for 3,000 francs ($4.50?). I like Rwandans a lot, and I like speaking Kinyarwanda, but it is also nice to see Americans—and especially Americans who are about my age. Aside from the English-speaking part, I enjoyed the way the conversation played out, and the places it went. There are certain things that I just don’t know how to talk about in Kinyarwanda, and I was glad to be able to do that.

(Side-note: it was Ladies’ Night at Lalibela, so girls ate for less; that might have bothered me, but the difference was marginal and I just think the idea of Ladies’ Night at the Ethiopian restaurant in Rwanda is hilarious.)

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I remembered there is something I wanted to talk about, though. After dinner was over, I caught a taxi back. A real taxi, like in New York except not yellow; they call them vatúrî, from French voiture. I knew these were relatively expensive, but we were in Kimihurura and it was a long way back at a time when there were not many minibuses running. I found one, and I thought that 6,500 francs ($10) sounded reasonable. Sure, it was the equivalent of about 30 comparable minibus rides, and half of the citizens of this country would not make that much money in a week, but given the distance (check a map: Kimihurura, not too far from the Ministry of Defense, to Nyamirambo), it was still affordable by the standards I am used to.

I got home without too much trouble. The driver was a bit annoyed to have to drive on the dirt road, so I gave him a little extra money. (We had agreed on 6,000 francs to start.) Upon getting in and telling my hosts, I found out I had vastly overpaid: a reasonable rate in Kigali for a hired car at that distance is 3,000 francs, maybe 4,000.

I am not quite sure what to think about this. It is certainly a bit troubling to know that I was overcharged, probably because I am so apparently a foreigner, and was not savvy enough to haggle the price down to something reasonable. Then again, is there actually anything wrong with what I did? I negotiated a cost based on what I thought was reasonable, and I think I got a good value for my money. I do have room in my grant to pay for such things, so why shouldn’t I? Even ideologically, I kind of like the idea that people with means should pay more for services than those who do not.

The response I can think of is that getting the better price would leave me with more money that I can give to other people: spread my impact around a bit. My net contribution to Rwanda’s economy will be the same, but I guess better in that I will directly improve the lives of more people. And if we decide that the cabby was maliciously trying to take advantage of me—I am not convinced of that adverb, by the way—then I suppose it would be better for the benefit to be less concentrated in him. I do not know what I think, though.