ACT TWO, SCENE THREE

EXT. DAY. BUTARE.

We're heading to the NUR Radio Station and on the way we make a quick stop at the library that's be set up nearby. Nick, a Fulbright Scholar from Florida International University is eagerly awaiting the arrival of a tech support person to help get the Internet service back online. Its a nice space! All the current issues of WIRED, TIME and various magazine are neatly placed on the tables. Books are properly shelved, and PC terminals and keyboards evenly spaced near the longest wall. Though it was empty today, Nick told us on days when there are programmed activities the room is packed.

Nick also happens to have a Mac with the correct AC adapter. Patti's laptop is running down and we spend a few moments making the correct connections for charging it up. There's a public screening of Patti's documentary COME BACK TO SUDAN later on in the NUR Auditorium and we vow to come back and pick Nick up.


INT. SAME DAY. N.U.R. RADIO STATION.

The Stations is down the road a piece from the library and after we climb down from our SUV I draw the short straw to be interviewed. We're met by the Director and shortly thereafter the young staffers begin setting up for the interview. Our young journalist is quite the interviewer and the conversation covers a lot of ground in what feels like a very few minutes but what turns out to be closer to a half-hour. Wrapping up, we get to ask him a few questions and he speaks about his programming responsibilities as well as his professional ambitions. His story, like many of those we've heard so far, consists of a deeply held desire to make something of himself as well as contribute to the growth of his country. And though we wished him luck it honestly seems like he's going to succeed in making his own!


EXT. SAME DAY. BUTARE.

We pick Nick up and head on over to the NUR campus. Even with darkness approaching the campus is still very attractive and we all remark how pleasant the learning environment must be for the students. We get to wait a few minutes for the technical crew to set up (we're early) and wait outside as the day gradually cools. A group of young men in gii's are stretching and practicing their routines for what is obviously about to take place soon--a karate lesson. All eyes are on them and just as they start lining up for the lesson, we're invited into the auditorium and take our seats.

The crew warms the audience up with a few music videos and then Dr. Mukama introduces the first speaker (faculty member from Theater and Performing Arts), who then introduces Patti to the audience. The film screens very well in this space! Patti does a Q&A with the audience and then we're off to a celebratory dinner at the hotel.


INT. HOTEL. BUTARE

After changing into a clean shirt, I hurry over to the hotel restaurant where they've set things up for us. All the invited guests (faculty, staff, and students) are mixing and I join in. The hotel staff bring in the last trays and we slowly line up. The first course, as apparently is the custom, is soup, followed by chicken, fish, assorted local vegetables and mixed crab salad--laid out for us buffet style. Eddie (from the Embassy) greets everyone and she's followed by Dr. Mukama. We dig in.

I'm directly across the table from him and I quickly learn about the instructional needs, curriculum goals, and ambitions for the institution. By now we're all talking about my getting a Fulbright and coming over during my sabbatical (whenever I can arrange it). Next summer has possibilities as well and we begin to explore how we can collectively program workshops and some courses. The conversation shifts to talk about problems with infrastructure and I begin smiling as I hear the same kind of complaints I'm used to writing memo after memo after memo about.... We share more stories, discuss potential collaborations and funding options and before you know it, everyone's had dessert and we're all exchanging business cards, DVDs and assurances of seeing each other again soon.


INT. HOTEL. MY ROOM.

So this is the first time I'm sleeping under a net since I was a Boy Scout in High School. Everything is clean and comfortable and as I shrug out of the day's clothes I check the screens for a tight fit (and any holes) and begin tucking the net around the sides of the bed. The phone is hooked up for charging, the door is secured, the curtains drawn--and the sandman takes me off to the first good night's sleep I've had since the night before I boarded the airplane at Logan.