Stop telephoning me-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e

There is better cell phone coverage in Rwanda than in much of rural America (granted, the country's the size of Maryland, but still). Go to the smallest possible barely-a-village you can find, and someone there will own a cell phone. It doesn't matter if they don't have electricity; many small shops or even government offices will allow people to charge their phones for a small fee.

It's easy and relatively cheap to get yourself a phone number. There are no contracts to sign up for. You buy a SIM card from a little corner store, for $1.70 or less. You pop this into any cell phone, and you're good to go. The most economical phone model only costs about $16. Then you buy phone credit as you go in the form of a little card with a code you punch into your phone. You can check your credit balance on the phone at any time. It's pretty efficient.

You are only charged for outgoing calls, never for incoming. Consequently, if someone wants to talk with you but they're low on credit, they will "beep" or "flash" you -- that is, call you so it rings once, then quickly hang up. If you are the recipient of a flash, you are expected to call that person back (and spend your own money on it). It's a pretty annoying practice, if you ask me. There are only a handful of people from whom I'll tolerate a flash.

When you do answer the phone, who speaks first? This is always a fun game. A lot of times here, it's the person making the call, not the one answering. I can't help but find it a little disconcerting when I am just bringing the phone to my ear and I already hear someone greeting me. But sometimes they do wait for you to speak first, which brings us to the next question -- what does one say when answering the phone? The French "Allô" ("Hello") is possible, but more common is the French "Oui?" (or Kinyarwanda translation, "Karame?") At first I hated this, because it's like you're answering and just snapping, "Yeah? What?" But I confess that now this is actually how I answer the phone when speaking with Rwandans.

And to end the conversation? Well, that's easy. Just hang up. No need for goodbye! When you've said all you need to say, hit "end" -- as quickly as possible, it seems. You get charged by the second, after all.

Now in the U.S. we have a certain social convention that says you're not supposed to call most people, say, before 8 AM or after 9:30 PM. This rule DOES NOT APPLY in Rwanda, to my deep regret. Here it's acceptable to call absolutely anytime you feel like it. I have woken up to the sound of my phone ringing as early as 4:40 AM (seriously) and as late as 10:45 PM (I tend to get in bed at 8), and these calls were from people I barely know. Charming.

But if you don't answer the phone when someone calls you? Well, God help you. Rwandans cannot fathom what you could EVER POSSIBLY be doing that would preclude you from picking up their call. It is not only acceptable, but in fact expected that you answer your phone any time it is ringing. This includes: if you are on public transportation, if you are a teacher teaching a class, if you are sitting in a meeting, if you are in church, even if you are the guest of honor at a special ceremony. Accordingly, when I don't answer my phone because perhaps I've decided that I don't want to speak to that particular caller, the person will continue to call. And call. And call. And call. Twenty times consecutively is not unheard of.

We have another social convention in the U.S. that says you probably shouldn't pass around someone's phone number without their consent (be it implicit or explicit). Nope. Not here. Rwandans share my number like it's going out of style. I can't confirm the following chain of events, but I honestly believe something like this has happened more than once:

1: I give a moto-taxi driver my number while arranging a pick-up.
2: This driver then, I can only assume, tells all his friends, "Hey, guys! I met a muzungu, I even have her number!"
3: Random men I've never met start calling me incessantly (flashing me, more likely) and attempt to practice their very, very poor English.

Sigh.

So the title of this blog comes from, of course, the Lady Gaga song "Telephone." The lyric above is what I often sing out loud while trying to send a telepathic message to my relentless caller.

To close, in other news, today marks two years since I first swore in as a Peace Corps Volunteer in Mauritania. I shaved my head. Hair grows back.


(If you never got to before, you can see more head-shaving photos here.)