Great Expectations (an ode to Kelly Jo)

Warning: The following is being written after the culmination of a week of negative Rwanda experiences (not the least of which was the discovery that my camera had been stolen and also that the electricity would be out for several days). At the risk of sounding whiney, I decided I just had to get it out. It is a reflection of the difficulties in cultural differences and how it comes out in dealing with institutions.

After handing over enough francs to cover 3 months of rent, a house full of furniture, and the general costs of moving, my pockets (and my bank account) were empty. So on February 24^th, I asked the head accountant if my February salary would be deposited in my account on the 24^th or 25^th. I had been told that deposits were always done on one of these days each month. And I believed. Ha. The response was: "On Friday we will do the paperwork."

"So I can get money out on Friday?"

"No, it will not be sent to the bank until Monday."

"On Monday then, I can get money out."

"No, it will take the bank one day to put the money in."

"So Tuesday, I can get money from the bank?"

"Yes…on Tuesday."

I decided that I should throw in a few italics to create some drama and help insure that I would in fact be paid for my work.

"Okay, on Tuesday. It is very important that I receive the money soon because I need to buy food."

"Yes, yes. On Tuesday. No problem."

So I borrowed a bit of money from Emma to tide me over for the next 5 days and on Monday night said a prayer, crossed my fingers, and wished on a star. Tuesday I made my way to the bank. After a few mishaps I was able to check my account balance. (My slip of paper was momentarily detoured from the line of bank notes by the teller window when someone decided it didn't look official and took it off the table, crumpled it up, and threw it on the ground. I rescued it and returned it to its place in the long line.) From my account balance, I was expecting one of two things: A nearly empty account, or an account with about 400,000 francs. But what I got was an account with about $150 less than what I should have been paid. I was relieved enough that I had plenty of money to live on that I decided not to be too disgruntled by the numbers and just go to the University the next day and see if it was a bank mistake or an accounting mistake.

The next day I went to the accounting office. "Yes you have been paid," they said, and showed me the same number that the bank had given me. I told them that it was not the correct amount and they pointed in the general direction of the CA (Chief Accountant) whose office is on a different floor, in a different part of the building. So I went up, and explained to him the problem. He pulled up the payment records and after a few minutes we hit upon the mistake. I had been paid the salary of a Tutorial Assistant, not an Assistant Lecturer. The month before I was given the salary of a Lecturer, so why did this happen? Probably because the other American working at the school is a Tutorial Assistant and no one in accounting had bothered to figure out which one of us was which. Never mind that they had a copy of our contracts (which I personally had to bring to them because everyone at the university had seemed to have lost their own copy of my contract.)

After clearing up the cause of the problem, I was told that a check would be written to me for the remaining amount I was owed. "When can I come to take the check?" I asked. "Tomorrow" was the answer. "Ah, problem easily solved!" I mentally sighed. But, unfortunately, I forgot to mentally knock on wood. And so, here is the rest of the February Salary Saga, day-by-day.

Wednesday: The source of the error is discovered and I am told the check will be available for me to pick up the next day.

Thursday: I go to the accounting office in the afternoon to pick up the check. When I ask for it in the accounting office, they point up to the CA's office (which, by the way, is in the room called "alleluia.") When I go upstairs the door is locked and the lights are off. I go home.

Friday: In the morning I go to the accounting office and again ask for my check. They point at "Alleluia." Upstairs, the door is closed. I return in the afternoon, again no one is there.

Saturday: I stop by "Alleluia." Empty.

Sunday: A day of rest.

Monday: I go to the accounting office. Finger pointing. Upstairs is dark.

Tuesday: No one in "Alleluia."

Wednesday: Finally "Alleluia" is occupied. I am told in French something about my check. I think he is telling me to go down to the accounting office, but I'm not going down there again unless he comes with, so I ask him to speak in English so I can be more clear. He tells me to follow him and we go downstairs. After 20 minutes, the reason why I need a check and the amount it is for is communicated to the women who is the official "check writer." The receipt is printed off and it is signed by the CA. He then leaves and tells me it will be taken care of. I sit and wait for more paperwork to be finished. Then I am told that I should go and come back later because they need to get three more signatures.

"When will I come back?"

"Later. The person who needs to sign is not here."

"Why aren't they here and when will they sign for my check?"

"I don't know, one of them is not here and another is going to Kigali."

"Kigali? Will he sign before he leaves?"

"I think he will just go."

"But not before signing my check."

"I think he will sign it first."

"Yes, he should sign it first. And the other person should sign it soon also."

"But we do not know when. Come back later."

"I will come back in an hour."

"No problem."

An hour later I return and am told that it won't be ready until tomorrow. Emma has arrived and is arranging for a check to be written for her. Her check is sent off with mine for signatures. She is also told to return tomorrow. We pull out the italics. "It will definitely be ready tomorrow. In the morning. Tomorrow. We will come here, tomorrow in the morning and it will be here for us to take?" "Yes, in the morning. Tomorrow."

Thursday: We wait until the afternoon just to give them a little extra time. There is only an assistant in the office and she looks for the check but can't find it. She tells us there will be someone else in the office at 5. So we return at 5. They find Emma's check and give it to her. I am told that mine is not ready. "Why is mine not ready? It was sent for signatures with Emma's and her's is ready. It is not possible." I am told that a mistake was made on the check and they ask me to have patience. It will be ready tomorrow. I decide that this is not the time for passive politeness. It is the time for protest and action. (No Emma, not Taser action). I put down my phone so that I can use my hands for emphasis. I raise one weary foot and then the other and step onto my soapbox.

"I will have patience and I will come tomorrow to get my check, but this cannot happen again. I have been waiting for 10 days to receive my full pay. I have come many times to take my check. It is a very bad problem. You must be more organized. I know that sometimes mistakes are made, but this is not okay. You need to fix this." I step down, resolved to write a report on my accounting experiences and give it the Vice Rector for review.

Somehow I think that the check will be there for me tomorrow. And I don't anticipate having anymore problems in the following months, but the idea that trying to get my full salary has turned into a part-time job is slightly infuriating. But, part of the reason why Emma and I were hired was to give input into how the University is run. And this salary debacle will serve as a big motivator to fulfill that part of my job description!