I essentially did three things today; none of them was something new, but each of them was fun the second time around.
I took walk in the morning, around the neighborhood. I wanted to make sure I knew my way around, so I walked to the church and back. The route looks a lot different in the morning: I passed a lot of people and shops that had been closed in the evening last week. There was a lot of commerce happening, and some people were busily beating cassava in one open-air vegetable market.
I did stand out. I didn’t see a single foreigner the whole time. A lot of people waved, smiled or said hello. A couple asked me where I was going, not in an aggressive way, just to be helpful. Some did make jokes, thinking I didn’t understand; I didn’t, completely, but my ears have been well trained to hear muzuûngu by now. If I turned around and smiled, so would they. I don’t want to say it felt secure—there was a certain feeling of entropy—but it did feel safe and friendly.
After returning from the church, I started the details of my mapping project. I walked very slowly up the street on which the house I am staying in is located and, pocket notebook in hand, drew out every building on street until the page ran out. Here, some people did look at me a bit strangely, and I don’t especially blame them. Smiling and saying hello always seems to dissipate confusion, though, and I accomplished what I wanted to. It’s a modest start (about one block); perhaps I’ll post a picture later on, when it is a bit more substantial.
In the afternoon, I went into town again. I met another American student for lunch, and hungrily consumed (in addition to lunch) the free Wi-Fi that apparently exists at Bourbon Coffee in the Union Trade Center. It was fun.
Afterward, I did not do a whole lot: I went to a different foreign exchange place (the people at the last one must think I’m weird by now) and got a Ugandan 2,000-shilling note (actually another one for 1,000 shillings too) for my 1,000 francs. I bought some postcards. I bought more chocolate. The guy who sells maps and flags on the street by U.T.C. knows me by name now; I guess I talked to him yesterday. Maybe I’ll end up buying something from him eventually.
I also went to church again in the evening. The experience was similar to last week’s, except that I felt like I understood a little bit more. The pastor, and another guy who got up to talk frequently, both spoke very clearly and, if I tried really hard, I could hear almost all of the words they said. I was still not able to put those words together into sentences, or even necessarily understand all of them, but I felt like it was progress.
I had decided I wanted to write down all the words I saw or heard there that I didn’t understand. I kicked myself for forgetting my notebook, so instead I wrote them in draft text-messages on my phone. I hope I didn’t look rude; we were sitting in the back corner and I always made sure to cover over the light of the screen.
The power went out a few times during the service; being after sunset, this could have been a problem. But a guy got out an electric lantern and handed it to the pastor, who just raised his voice and kept on going. People took out their cell phones to illuminate their bibles and orders of worship. The lights soon came back on, but the speaker system didn’t, so we sang the last hymn unaccompanied. It was an interesting experience.
After the service, once again, lots of people came to say hello. Some I recognized from last week, and there were many new faces too. I met some friends of friends, who started grilling me with really stressful questions in Kinyarwanda: “How old are you?” “What do you study” “Where do you live?” “Are you a Jehovah’s Witness?” “Is this your first time in Rwanda?” “How do you like it?”
Straining to understand the service had been hard work enough. After I was finished answering those questions, I was legitimately really tired. My friends helped me translate some of the words I didn’t know during the car ride home. I think I went to bed soon after.
I stand corrected: I underreported SUNY tuition by 80%, rather giving a figure accurate in the late ’70s. Where did I get that idea?
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