Kigali — The Chinese pair trailing me at the check-in line at Kigali airport looked happy to have landed in east Africa. A string of comments expressing restrained delight followed me all the way to where the gloved and masked medic from Kigali's Ministry of Health stood sentry.
No one made it past her without handing over the detailed forms about prior travels, exposures and symptoms we had all been given to complete.
Posters about preventing and recognizing Ebola were everywhere.
The final check before entry was an infrared digital thermometer aimed at passenger's foreheads, one at a time.
I was feeling a bit jittery, but my body temperature hit it right, and I made it through without incident. Not so the pair behind me.
"Just breathe easy, and try to be yourself," advised the health officer.
"It will be over in a minute."
It wasn't. The readings on the temperature gadget shot up every time the medical officer levelled it with the passenger's brow. Everyone in the admission area was now watching with anxious curiosity. The passenger broke into a sweat.
But the medic did not give up on him. After the fifth try, she requested help from her colleague at Kigali's immigration service. A fresh gadget was brought and aimed at the man's head.
This time his temperature registered correctly. A collective sigh of relief seemed to envelop the immigration hall as the man joined other travelers at the passport desk.
"That's a good team doing the Ebola screening," whispered one man, who may have been an American, to the woman travelling with him. "I have seen such a case in other countries, and the person was denied entry."
Welcome to Kigali, the capital city of Rwanda. By the end of my first evening here, I decide that courtesy is an ingrained national value.
I had been sitting in the arrivals area waiting for transport to the World Export Development Forum (WEDF) and the Women Vendors Export Forum, both taking place at the Serena Hotel this week. Unlike the city where I come from - somewhere in East Africa where taxi operators almost force stranded travelers into taking a ride with them - a cabbie approaches me and courteously enquires if I am in some sort of a fix.
"I am fine," I reply. "I am just waiting for someone to pick me up." He politely accepts me declining his help. Just then, representatives of the Rwanda Development Board (RDB) spot me and lead me to the conference welcome tent. We are soon on our way into the city, and in less than 30 minutes I am booked into my room.
Though the hour is late and it is already dusk, people stroll through well-lit streets. We pass a group of school-age children chatting their way along the sidewalk. At a designated pedestrian crossing point, our van joins a stretch of vehicles that have stopped to allow pedestrians to cross the road safely.
As we wait I get a sweeping view of the city outside. Not a morsel of litter is in sight. I crane my neck to catch a glimpse at the settlement down the hill from the road. No debris in sight.
"The government banned any sort of plastics here," the RDB official explains. "And there is a public policy here that voluntarily commits everyone not to throw litter around."
Pondering these unfamiliar practices, I look forward to seeing more after my first night in Rwanda.
Except for joggers, the next morning is quiet as I take an early walk to a nearby shopping mall and 24-hour supermarket. In these quiet moments, it is possible see the evidence of international investment in Rwanda's economy - from banking, to insurance, to real estate, to hospitality.
Offices of companies from around the planet jostle for space on the streets, as orient and occident compete for market share in east Africa's smallest country.
Boda boda (motorbike) taxi operators pass me as I walk along, but they do not honk and make dangerous stops once they spot a potential client.
Families stroll through the streets and swap greetings in Kinyarwanda, the Rwandan language. Because of my upbringing, which was in a related Bantu language, I can pick up nuggets of the slang. But in conversing with people here I stick to Kiswahili - the lingua franca of eastern Africa - which also flows fluidly here.
Even when I drift across the walkway or intro the traffic lane as I absorb the surroundings, it is common for a passing pedestrian to politely bring me back to earth with a guiding reminder: "Excuse me, sir, you are walking on the wrong part of the pavement. Please use this track."
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The hustle and bustle and jostling for space with other pedestrians - and even with vehicles - that characterizes many urban areas, does not seem to have a place in Kigali.
A security guard at one of the buildings directs me to a café where I can get some light food. But mind you, there are no plastic bags - even for my take-away order.
My senses are alerted in this orderly capital. Perhaps the practices of this urban area, so different from any I have seen, will stretch the imaginations of delegates during this trade forum.
Arancha Gonzalez, the executive director of the Geneva-based International Trade Centre (ITC), which organized the global trade/export conference, also hosted by Rwanda's development board, reckons that Africa is the last investment frontier. This capital city may well be pioneering a trend in making the continent's fast-growing cities more liveable.
