The Logic of Dirt

I always assumed that the dirt road leading from Ntunga to Agahozo-Shalom and the Rubona Sector was unpaved because of short-term budget limitations. This week, while traveling with family in Kenya, I discovered that driving on paved roads with potholes the size of Rwanda will lead to bumping up and down the height of an ostrich in Maasai Mara. This made me realize that paved roads left to their own fate are far worse than unpaved roads left to nature - dirt roads around where I live in Rwanda suddenly seem to be brilliant long-term planning. But more interesting in Kenya are the actions of citizens in the face of public failure: independent, perhaps desperate but certainly entrepreneurial citizens make their way to the highway and fill up the pot-holes with dirt and small pebbles from the side of the road. Cars passing by tip them for making the journey slightly less rocky and adventurous, and these freelance private roadside repairmen get a bit of cash. As my sister mentioned in the car, "They're filling a hole."All this is voluntary from both sides. Our driver told them he would "come back tomorrow." He seems like a nice guy, so unless he's pressed for cash he probably will.

Nairobi has better street repair. Nairobi, well, has street repair. Unexpectedly late rainfall made its way to Nairobi where the streets were filled with cars whose wheels were completely submerged in water, some wading through the street rivers, but most cars stuck, leading to more traffic jams and even more flooding. There were literally waves rolling through the water, like at the beach. Sewage holes are few and far between. Which made me realize why the dirt road that brings me home in Rwanda has fantastically engineered gutters even as it keeps its sandy, rocky, exterior.

As in Kenya, Rwanda recently received an oddly late rainfall. It was all very refreshing. Muddy, but invigorating. And always a conversation starter.

But enough on the weather. Hear's some more dirt: now that the rainfall is over, people are vamping up the mud-brick making for house building in Rubona Sector. The unexpected rain (promise, last weather reference) seems to have kept them square and ready for stacking. The metal on top of the houses cost around a years worth of primary school teacher pay, so I'm crossing my fingers for them.

But I never really need to: how these houses stay up, sturdy and cottage-in-the-country-looking, is beyond me. But it has given me a whole new appreciation for engineering mud and dirt.