This morning, my breakfast was very fruity. There are fruits out all the time, but I didn’t eat them for awhile because I was afraid of stomach problems. I realized, though, that all of them are things that had to be peeled (or scooped) before eating, which—at least according to the guidebooks—should mean they are O.K. I have heard in more than one conversation now that “imbuto ni nziîa ku buzima” (Fruits are good for your health), so I decided to give them a try.
This took a little bit of initiative, because of the three kinds of fruit in the basket, none looked very familiar. There were mandarínî which were oranges but with green-yellow skin. There were ibinyóomoro, or “tree-tomatoes”; I learned this word in class freshman year, but I never asked what a tree-tomato was. It looked, indeed, like a kind of ovular tomato on the outside. Then there was another kind of fruit, described to me as amatuunda, or “fruits.”
In any case, I tried all of them. My best guess for the mystery-fruit is passion-fruit—it tastes something like the passion-fruit tic-tacs I had once. I would not have expected something with such a vivid name to have skin like an avocado, but I guess I shouldn’t judge. It was sour, but flavorful in other ways too, and very seedy.
The tree-tomato was actually kind of similar. Though they look like tomatoes, they have to be cut in half and scooped. The insides are meatier than whatever I had before, and a little sweeter, and they have a deep red juice.
The orange was just an orange; maybe a tiny bit less sweet than what I am used to, but the green skin seemed not to affect anything.
After breakfast I decided to go for a walk. I wanted to take some photographs, I wanted to get my bearings and I wanted to definitively find the house on that map.
After about ten minutes of walking back and forth on the nearby main road (Rue de Mont Kigali), the latter goal was accomplished. It’s true: the map was flawed. Our main landmark in deciding where we were had been the nearby gas-station, and the map had it a few hundred yards down the road from where it actually was.
I also walked up and down a little bit making note of street names. Rwandans don’t navigate by street names (rather, by landmarks), even on main roads. Until pretty recently, all but the main roads were unnamed, but now street-signs have been put up with numbers. The house I am staying in, for example, is on KN 187 St.
If these numbers ever catch on, it will be far in the future; I suspect it is just a government initiative to make this maze of a city a little more organized; at such a time when they can institute mail delivery, having the numbers will be useful.
So I walked around, not straying too far from the main road; I found the other end of 187 St., which also connects to Rue de Mont Kigali (also named, as I found out, KN 26 Ave.), and I walked back that way to approach the house from the opposite way that I had left.
It was a nice walk—20 or 30 minutes, and I accomplished everything I wanted to. I would have gone out again later had my hosts not informed me (upon coming home) that it might not have been the best idea, safety-wise, to wander around alone there looking like a tourist. I had never felt unsafe, and people were all very friendly—I said hello to several, and several said hello to me—but, then again, I do not live here.
Anyway, upon getting back, I sketched a map of the very immediate area in a notebook, using the one in the guidebook as a reference. It is below; if you happen to have the Bradt Rwanda guide, it corresponds to squares A5 and B5 of the map on p. 92. I hope to fill it in and expand it in the coming weeks, though I guess I won’t do so without a companion!
New Vocabulary Words for the Day
- amashuuka: sheets
- kwíitoonda: to be cautious
- isoômbe: ground cassava-leaf dish (very good)
Vowels with an acute accent (e.g. á) have a phonetic high tone. Vowels with a circumflex (e.g. â) have a phonetic falling tone. Vowels with no accent have a low tone. Vowels that are doubled are long.
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