Water and Tea Part II

Now we come to the tea. One of Rwanda’s main products is tea, and we all have been enjoying the local brew which can be bought at almost any establishment. After a disastrous meal at the hotel the night before, we decided to go find a hole in the wall for dinner. (We had waited 2.5 hours for our food, and when it arrived discovered that when the menu says vegetarian pizza and grilled ham and cheese, they really mean spaghetti and pea pizza and hamburger sandwich). After passing several uninviting holes, we stopped at one which turned out to only have tea and bread. So, we asked the shop owner where we could find some brochettes (goat kabobs…mmm). He nodded and began deliberating with several people while we waited in the street, our skirt tails accruing children by the second.

The shop owner, who introduced himself as Jared pointed to two young boys and told us to follow them to the brochettes. We said goodbye and thank you and headed off in a cloud of munchkins. My friend Joanna, who was walking behind me, later told me that I looked like Wendy with the Lost Boys. We arrived at a restaurant neighboring our hotel and turned around to see that Jared had abandoned his shop to follow us and was in negotiating mode:

Jared: What would you like to eat?
Us: What do they have?
Jared: They can make anything.
Emma: Can I have some cassava?
Jared: (after consulting the waiter) no, they don’t have that.
Emma: Well, what kind of vegetables do they have?
Jared: (consultation) They don’t have any vegetables left.
Emma: Then can I have a hard boiled egg?
Jared: (consultation)yes, they have that, and they have brochettes.

We finally settled for brochettes and chapatti (greasy, delicious, flat bread) and when Jared was satisfied that we would be well fed he left with a promise to come learn English from us the next day at the school. The waiter then asked for our drink orders, several of us ordered the standard Fanta Citron and Fanta Orange, but three people asked for tea. The waiter requested to converse in French, and as the majority of us can all speak clear, precise French at the very least to order food, we agreed. The conversation went something like this:

Joanna: Do you have tea?
Waiter: Aye?(huh in Kinyarwanda)
Joanna: Du thé? Ichayi (tea in Kinyarwanda).
Waiter: Ah oui, Ichayi. How many?
Joanna: three, three ichayi.
Waiter: three…na amata? (with milk?)
Joanna: Oya, no amata…no milk.
Waiter: No milk? Nido?! (powdered milk brand)
Joanna: Oya, no Nido, no milk.
(waiter leaves…then returns 20 minutes later with the fantas)
Waiter: mumble, mumble, mumble in French/Kinyarwanda Nido mumble, mumble thé, mumble, mumble, lait.
Joanna: Ichayi? You have tea?
Waiter: oui, oui, mumble, mumble, Nido.
Joanna (in clear French): We would like three teas without milk.
Waiter: Ok.
(waiter leaves, then returns later with a can of instant coffee in his hand).
Waiter (in French): Do you want some of this in your tea?
Joanna (in French): No, no coffee, only tea.
Waiter: Na Amata?
Joanna: No, we don’t want coffee in the tea, we don’t want milk in the tea, we only want tea.
Waiter nods.
Waiter returns with three mugs of hot water, some sugar, and the can of instant coffee.
Waiter: smiles, Du thé.

We had a good laugh over our hot water and fantas about the fact that we had clearly said tea a dozen times in three different languages and had still ended up with coffee. Still baffled by how a request for no milk in the tea could result in coffee, I’m not convinced that it was due to language misunderstandings. I find it more likely that there was some cultural matter that we were unaware of. Perhaps Rwandans never drink tea without milk after 5pm on days when African Cup games are on. Or maybe its faux pas for some members in a group to drink tea and some not to when sitting in a cement gazebo. Or possibly, the goat they had slaughtered for our brochettes had eaten all the tea, so we were getting it anyway, but just in another form…. We will probably never know.