Road to Rwanda----Haircuts and Machettes

 Rick's hair was getting really ragged. He won't let me touch it....for good reason, but on the way home from downtown tonight, I made him go into the hair salon (euphemism) that is about 100 yards from our apartment.  He did not want to do it. And it is a little scary because how many white people's hair would anyone here ever have dealt with, but I just insisted.  They were really, really nice and competent.  A lady was obviously in charge, but there were a couple men working for her that did all the hair.  As I sat there waiting, a student from our school with her mother came out of the little area where they wash hair. They proceeded to put curlers into her straightened hair.  I realized they could do that for me, so I asked if they would.  No running water.  They brought in water in big buckets and heated it over a burner.  The man then carefully, oh so very carefully, washed and set my hair.  I do not have any access to hot rollers or curling iron and my hair has been a bit of a trial here, so this might be the answer.  Rick's haircut and beard trim and my wash, set, and dry cost $5 total!  Love this country.

I hesitate to relay an incident that happened two nights ago, because I do not have the whole explanation yet, but it was so bizarre I will tell you the story and then let you know when we get the explanation.  Rick was having to stay up to do zoom conference with his Peking University students.  At about 1 in the morning, he went out the kitchen door to throw something out in the garbage.  Right outside the door, was a man on a ladder on our side of the wall. He had a machette and three large hand-sized stones and was looking over the wall.  He smiled and nodded.  Rick, being Rick, nodded back and went inside.  About an hour later I got up to go to the bathroom, and Rick said, "Boy, it was good that I stayed up!" and told me the incident.  I asked him if he had told the guard.  He then went out to find the guard.  The guard speaks no English, but indicated somehow that he knew about it, or even that he had been the man.  It was kind of dark, but Rick does not think it was the guard.  I have contacted Fred from school who is so helpful and handles all of our housing needs.  He is gone for the weekend, but when he comes back he will talk to the guard to see what was happening. Our guess is that somehow the guard felt that there was someone who was going to try to come over the wall and he was there to protect the apartments.  It is kind of strange, and a little unsettling, but I think more benign that one might think.