On the other side of town

A part from the literal meaning of the word, I never really fully understood what ‘upper-class’ meant till I went to a dinner party at my friends crib on the other side of town where humble folks in my circle like to call ‘rich man’s slum’ (read Nyarutarama).

Sunday, January 02, 2011
Royale Villas, a hotel in Nyarutarama

A part from the literal meaning of the word, I never really fully understood what ‘upper-class’ meant till I went to a dinner party at my friends crib on the other side of town where humble folks in my circle like to call ‘rich man’s slum’ (read Nyarutarama).

Due to the fact that most residents of that end have their means of transport, taxis have little businesses there, so I had to board a ‘moto’ to his home.

I reached on time but spent countless minutes negotiating with the taxi moto-guy, you see, he thought I belonged to that neighborhood, so he unfairly hiked the fares to the ceiling!

To settle the row I had to divulge where I reside, (a not so posh place) to convince him that I know all about taxi-moto fares, he jeered, cast me a down-town look, grabbed the coins, kicked his bike into life and sped off!

I sighed in relief.  Turning around, I faced this old chap wearing a flannel suit and a permanent smile. "Welcome sir, we’ve been expecting you, this way sir,” he stepped aside like a veteran-guide and ushered me inside.

I was given a warm welcome by the host, then introduced to Kigali’s elites; shortly I was stormed by smiling maids offering Champagne.

For a man who is accustomed to shoving people out of his way in crowded bars on his way to the counter where he’s got to wave paper-money and shout ‘Primus’ on top of his lungs amid loud rock or dance hall music, I got I little uneasy being served without a hustle.

And the whole thing of rubbing shoulders with these cool gentlemen and ladies was like a scene cut out from a Hollywood motion picture.

We were all hanging around sipping champagne and Pinacoladas like we owned the world and discussing about the latest victims of Wikileaks when the head waiter announced the coming of the last guest.

"The lady honourable is here,” he announced.

To my surprise, nobody turned or stopped talking; no one pinned eyes on the entrance. Haven’t they heard? I asked myself, and then I remembered ‘we’ were all too well mannered for that.

Besides ‘we’ are all in the same league. No heads were turned, no eyes swung round to the entrance.

Later on I went out to gulp some fresh air and admire the well manicured gardens. I was startled by a butler, who announced his presence by softly clearing his voice; he wanted to know if I had everything I needed.

I stopped myself  from looking over my shoulder to see if he was addressing someone else,  was I getting familiar with  being taken  care of ? You know people from the ‘other side’ of the town, only get care when we are in trouble or when we are sick!

Ends