Twelve days is not nearly enough time to get to know a city as vibrant as Kigali. But even in that short a period, I am constantly reminded of the things I fell in love with when I lived here last, discover new intricacies daily, and realize how many more small details I forgot I missed. So to help you situate yourself in my environment, I will keep this week’s post short with my first (of likely many) list of my favorite things. The theme for this list is observations about my environment.
1. Plentiful & Fresh Fruit
Want a fresh tree tomato? They grow in my front yard. What about a kilo (~2.2lbs) of fresh-grown passionfruit? The woman on my walk home will sell you that for the rough equivalent of $1 USD. Pineapple, mango, it’s all here in plentiful supply. Things we find ubiquitous at home –– think pears, peaches, berries, etc… –– are not really suited to this climate. I probably won’t see most of them until I’m back home. But avocados? Sold cheaply on street corners. So for someone whose ideal snack involves pealing open something citrus yet sweet, I am pretty much living a dream. Not to mention there is no need for special categorizations of organic and locally sourced. Most things grow right in the surrounding countryside and what does not is trucked in from close neighboring countries. So a tree tomato from Burundi is akin to buying tomatoes from Jersey when you, say, live in DC.
Passionfruit aren’t all that pretty, but mixed up with the bright red flesh of a tree tomato with banana, oats, and yogurt is a real treat.
2. The Traffic Signs
No, I am not driving here. I did not want the stress that accompanies vehicle ownership. But I will say that the thought put into regulating traffic patterns always brings a smile to my face. As you can see above, the red stop lights are accompanied by timers that count down. I am unsure why we do not yet have these in the US, but it makes complete sense. I mean, if someone is going to send the inevitable text at a stop light, shouldn’t they know they that they have 70 seconds exactly before they have to move again? The green lights count down as well so everyone knows when they will have to stop. Unfortunately, my version of WordPress does not allow for videos. But my absolute favorite traffic symbol is the little street crossing guy. Here, he hops from one foot to the other in a little dance when it is time to cross the road.
3. Cafes
The incredible, fresh hummus, I got from a Yemeni cafe in the Gacuriro neighborhood that I explored Sunday afternoon after church.
Because of the way zoning laws work here, food establishments often intermingle with housing areas. And as a multi-cultural city, there are so many small spots with great views, solid wifi, and a tasty selection of food. Kigali city is essentially a collection of neighborhoods, each of which is comprised of a few hills. And while the neighborhoods are all very Rwandan, each also has its own unique flair. Over the next few months, I am on a mission to explore as many neighborhoods in Kigali as I can. Which for me, in addition to hours of walking, also means a solid cafe tour. Sure, I do indeed cook for myself with frequency. But I still have not quite gotten the hang of match-lighting the gas stove. So the Yemeni cafe I crashed at on Sunday in the Gacuriro neighborhood after attending church was a welcome change of pace.
4. Rainstorms
The rainy rooftop at Inzora bookshop.
If you know me well, you know I love a good rainstorm. I always have. Probably always will. Especially if I can watch it from the outdoors. There is something about the rhythm and raw power that I find soothing. So, let me tell you. You have never really seen a rainstorm until you have watched the skies over Kigali open up from the roof of Inzora bookstore. With a light spray on your face from the drops reflecting off wood, you can barely hear yourself think as the rain sheets down on tin and terra cotta roofs. The ruthless repetition reminds me of the inevitability of a jack-hammer, but without the teeth-chattering, soul-crunching hardness that makes you feel in your bones that if it does not stop you will go mad. No, there is a strange comfort to the urgency to which the drops race to the ground. They are not just drawn to the earth but shot down from the clouds. But eventually it lulls a bit, pulsing, as if it knows that even the fastest beat of a heart needs some space in between to catch a breath. Before it roars back to life, bathing the world once again in all-encompassing white noise. For a man watching a solid rain shower, I’ve got a solid pass time booked.
5. Children. Everywhere.
I am not a huge fan of taking random pictures of people, especially little tykes. It does not sit quite right with me. I realize that means I am probably not cut out to be a photo-journalist. But I think I can deal with that for now. All that to say, Kigali is covered in children – of all sizes – but you are not getting any pictures. They walk to school in the morning, find their ways home for lunch in the afternoon, and run out of the school gates at the end of the day. Rwanda swapped its national language from French to English in 2008. So the little ones are often the most likely to strike up a conversation with you.
In its most recent (2017) update, the World Economic Forum rated Rwanda as the 9th safest country in the world (the US is 84th, for comparison). So Kigali, as the capital, is a very secure place to be. In general, people on the streets watch out for each other. Some of my Rwandan friends joke that you cannot go anywhere without running into ten people who know your parents. That means it’s not uncommon for a gaggle of small ones to run by who do not come up all that much further than my knees. Often holding hands or gripping too-big backpacks that bounce off the back of their legs, the little ones add an energy and joy to the streets that I have not quite experienced anywhere else.
6. Views
They say everywhere in Kigali has a view. It’s true. These are some of my favorite so far.
Right to left these are (1) the view from my front porch (2) the view of the valley from Inzora Bookshop (3) the view from Gacuriro neighborhood.
It has only been twelve days and I already have so many things that make me smile everyday. But I realize that my privilege as an American citizen under the support of a generous state department grant mean my experiences thus far are not representative for many people who live here. In my walks throughout the city, I have the luxury of stopping in at a cafe when and where I want. Whereas, to many, my (honestly inexpensive by American standards) hummus plate could cover a family’s week of food. And the rainstorms I so deeply relish signal wet floors to sleep on for many who do not have tightly-crafted roofs. Most things I enjoy have a flip side or two.
So as I think about what I love, and as I paint a more idyllic picture of what these days have been like for me, I wrestle with my experiences. The realities I see as I wander along do not negate the fact that I find joy in where I have been placed. But I do feel bound to make sure that you, my readers, also get a taste of some of the very real complexities I can view firsthand that may not come through in my pictures. As I continue to dig deeper into my new home, I hope to be able to further explore with you that duality that inhabits much of my time here.
But for now I must say, Ijoro Ryiza (Good Night). I look forward to getting updates from you all and would love to hear what mundane things you love about the environments you currently call home.
A Boy Among 1000 Hills 
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