We stumbled down to Emmanuel's room, thinking of the alarm we heard going off for three hours but did not respond to. But we laughed about our delirium, and pulled ourselves together.
But good news! I got dressed and stepped outside and saw this:
The hills. The beautiful hills. And the beautiful greenery of outside. That figure on the horizon is the Kigali Mountain and, if you can see, the white building to the right is the American Embassy. To the left of the embassy -- also a white-looking building from this point of view -- is the Ministry of Education and the Ministry of Infrastructure. This picture is taken northeast of the city from our two-story home. We are living like queens, really -- there are two living rooms and each bedroom has its own bathroom. But I hardly want to be inside when outside is this view.
After breakfast, Bea took us to a restaurant where she had requested la potage, a vegetable soup with carrots, potatoes, spinach and basil.
But we didn't stop there. I asked for a refill of Fanta citrine, which tastes amazingly sweet because they use real sugar, not corn syrup, and ordered the Tilapia that Emmanuel urged me to try.
Amanda ordered chips (French fries), so I traded some of my rice for a few of her crispy chips. They are baked so yummy from sliced potatoes, not like the processed fries of the U.S. We ate our lunch slowly, with the leisure of full stomachs and enjoyed the view of the Valley of Kibagabaga Kigali.
Afterward, we drove downtown, and I was happy to finally see all of the hills. The night before felt like a dream, because of the jet lag and because it was dark; Kigali at that time was just headlights and house lights. Now, I can see the hills. And the trees. And the colors of rooftops and dresses and billboards. Downtown, we went to the market to buy a phone and groceries, like Rwandan yogurt and South African red wine. Driving through the roundabouts in our '80s minivan, I watched what looked like chaos -- motos (motorbikes) weaving through traffic, people crossing the street despite oncoming cars, crowded sidewalks -- but did not interpret it as chaos. It was simply the inner workings of a city, and I was stimulated by the commotion and colors. I am anxiously anticipating experiencing the city as one of those people on the crowded sidewalk.
When we got home, Amanda and I were antsy from all the sitting, and we asked Emmanuel to go on a walk with us. Our house is in a beautiful neighborhood that is sitting within beds of hills; we walked a couple miles and then went inside the Tennis Club -- a gym with a restaurant, sauna, tennis court, treadmills and weights. Emmanuel's got all the connections. Inside the workout room they were blasting French pop music, which I got super into, and despite feeling weird from jet lag, I jumped on the treadmill and grooved out to the Katy Perry-like music (which is to say I ran). It felt good. Everything felt good. My run (though nothing too impressive) just added to this continuing moment of clarity, which I'm realizing now is slightly selfish. I say it's selfish because it begins with me -- with realizing that I must know and improve myself in order to know others. So first, that. Realizing that I am proud of myself and proud of the challenges and adventures I present myself with. Then, the next part. The selfless part of learning. Kigali.
This blog just got all diary on you.
Goodnight.
Yanna
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