Day Two

I woke up this morning in a strange place. I was in a clay house, sleeping on a straw mat, with other people moving around me. I checked my watch. It was 12:00 PM. 12:00!!!!!!????? I sat up. “Right.” I told myself. “I am in Rwanda, Africa. Yesterday, I flew in on Rwandair, and my hotel was booked. So I am staying in Adrien’s house, on a straw bed.” Right now, waking up at 12 actually felt like 2 in the morning, so of course, I was so tired. I sat up and rubbed my head. I read somewhere that if you sit up and rub your head in the morning, you can feel 100 percent awake faster. Just as I was rolling off my bed, Adrien came in with passion fruit. “Here.” He placed four halves next to me. 

“How am I supposed to eat these without a spoon?” I asked. I loved passion fruit, but I never had eaten it without anything other than a spoon. Adrien bust out laughing. 

“What?” I asked annoyed. Okay, don’t blame me. I had just woken up five minutes ago, and it felt like two in the morning. 

“Sorry, sorry.” Adrien had to choke out the words he was laughing so hard. After he had calmed down, he showed me how to work the Passion fruit seeds and juice with my tongue, then drink it like juice. “You are such an American.” Adrien told me with a chuckle. I ate the passion fruit slowly, savoring every bite. It was the best passion fruit I had ever tasted. 

I ended up eventually getting up out of bed, getting dressed, and making it out the door. Adrien walked over to where I was standing, and gestured for me to follow him. We walked maybe a mile before we came to the main street. Here, people were walking up and down the road, looking at stands of foods and goods, trading, buying, and talking with each other. It wasn’t all joy here though. Although many people were having fun, talking and laughing with each other, there were people crawling down the street, crippled in both legs, flies buzzing around them, starving to the point where they could eat themselves. People were sitting propped up by trees, legs, arms and faces badly burnt, unable to move. Little boys and girls wearing rags, half naked were walking up the street, all of their bones showing through the thin layer of their skin. I had seen movies with people like this, but had never really imagined it was real like this. The worst part was, most people, who had more riches, were ignoring the injured like they were trees on the side of the road. A few people were handing them food, or helping them walk, but only a few. 

The most surprising thing was though, everyone seemed happy. Even the most crippled or the most burned seemed happy in some way. The people walking around on two good legs, with goods and money in their hands, were all laughing and smiling. They were talking in Kinyarwanda, but I could make out a couple of the words. There were hellos and goodbyes going all around. While I was admiring the beauty of the market, I didn’t realize Adrien had slipped away. I had no idea where to go. I was lost in a sea of people, with no sense of direction whatsoever. I was a lost puppy in a forest of tall trees. I started making my way around the many people. “Tatym! Tatym!” I heard a familiar voice calling out to me. I followed the voice to where Adrien was standing. In his hands were two drinks, of which I didn’t know the name. They were in beer like bottles, which were green. The label said BAHA, with a picture of a banana tree on them. “These are Sorghum and banana beers. They are the best drink in Rwanda.” Adrien told me. He held a bottle out to me, and I took a small sip. Immediately, a sweet taste filled my mouth. I was instantly addicted. 

Adrien and I slowly walked back to his village, sipping the Sorghum and banana beers. I could smell burning garbage and meat cooking over a fire. Cows mooed in the distance. The sun was slowly setting, turning the sky shades of pink and orange. I could hear muffled laughter and movement in the huts around me. It was a peaceful night.