Today we were going to Kibungo again, so that we could get some living arrangements in order and so that Kara could see the place. We went to the bus depot early to get good seats, and Lama had to go to the bank first so Kara and I were just going to meet him there. We bought our tickets and got into the bus and were sitting and waiting, and by the time Lama arrived all the seats had sold out! So we got our tickets transferred to the 11 am bus and waited for good seats. The good seats are up front where there is actually space and legroom, and there is room for 2 besides the driver. Lama is much taller than me, and Kara has back problems from a car accident, so I gladly volunteered to sit in the back. The drive there, as usual, was beautiful.
Once we got there, we met with Sigfried, had a quick drink, which was Fanta, because I’ve learned not to drink a huge beer first thing off the bus from Kigali when I am thirsty and hungry. We stopped by the house and met with Charles, our landlord. He didn’t have the keys, so we decided we’d head out and get some lunch. We were all grabbing moto-taxis, and while I was waiting for mine, a student who Sigfried knew pulled over to say hi and ended up just giving me a ride downtown. He refused to let me pay him, and Kara didn’t have any small bills to pay her driver, so he pitched in and payed half of her fair too! So Sigfried, Lama, Kara, this kind student who I never actually caught his name, and myself ate lunch.
After lunch we went shopping, we were going to buy kitchen supplies and basic necessities for our house for the next three months. Sigfried, Lama, and the Kind Student were negotiating all our prices and things we needed, and since the shops were basically a counter and supplies behind it, I just stayed outside. In Kigali, no one really pays too much attention to me. I am an outsider, but it’s no big deal. In Kibungo, I am an alien. Kids would crowd around and stare at me, and when others saw the crowd, would come see what the big deal was and join in. It didn’t bother me at all, but I simply didn’t know how to react, I just didn’t know what to do being stared at. The way when someone asks, “How are you?” and I like to be able to say “I am fine, thank you”, I would like to know the proper way to behave when you are stared at for 20 minutes solid. I would talk to the kids in basic French, asking their name and telling them mine, but inevitably always explaining “Je parlez une petit peu francais”. Later I heard Lama say that the kids would actually say, “Hey, there’s white people, let’s go look!”
After we had the shopping sorted out, we went back to the house. We met Regina, Charles’ daughter and Sigfried’s niece, and Kat and Irene (pictured), and they were great.
The group of us just sat out on the patio of our house (pictured) and watched the sun set while we waited for the bus. I was very relaxed and happy.
The drive back to Kigali, as usual, was cramped and miserable. I waited with Kara for her personal cab driver Laurent to pick her up from downtown, and once she left I hopped on a moto-taxi.
As I was coming back into my hotel, I remembered there is also a sauna and massage attached to it. I was so stiff and sore from the ride back to Kigali and my neck was killing me, so I decided I would get a massage. It cost me $6 and it was the best massage I’ve ever had. I also found it personally hilarious because she even massaged my feet and toes and I was laughing and giggling because it tickled so much! And then I would laugh harder at the situation of me trying not to laugh, and it was a vicious cycle of laughter. Normally, I don’t mind social awkwadness like that, but since I don’t know the Kinyarwanda word for “ticklish” it was more awkward than usual. Anyway, I went to bed feeling amazing.
