The Luckiest Guy on the Lower East Side

Got a text from Mitesh early yesterday afternoon to say that his dad, who's visiting this month from the US, was making chili and that we were all invited. I immediately canceled my plans (read: put my Buffy DVD back in its case) and hit the pavement after school to wait for a bus into Kigali. The buses were few and far between, and soon I saw the school's pickup truck trundling down the lane, choc full of nuns. Oh a whim, I asked if I could have a ride into town in the bed, and the good-natured sisters agreed. Getting a ride into town is an awesome treat, because 1) it's way more fun to ride around in the open air than crammed into a taxi; 2) it's FREE and therefore wonderful; and 3) it's rare and therefore exciting. It was late afternoon and the weather was perfect as we drove along the beautiful road from Shyorongi to Kigali.

The one downside of hitching into town is that you have no control over where you get off. I was itching to get to the bank, which is perched at the top of the most heinous calf-busting hill in Kigali. So my second pleasant surprise of the afternoon came when the nun's truck rolled right on up the hill and passed straight in front of the bank. I hopped out, said my thanks, and skipped up the steps to check my balance. Surprise number three: I'm lousy with money! Alright, maybe not lousy with it, but I was definitely shocked and happy with the amount that's piled up in the last couple months. I've been making a decent effort to save and have done without some comforts to do so, so this was a great payoff. I stopped by Simba Supermarket to get some wine to contribute to the chilifest, and bought some phone credit on my way out. I got 1,000Frw worth, but when I plugged the credit code into my phone it said that 1,200Frw had been added to my account! Turns out this is a promotion that the phone company is doing this summer, but I didn't know that yet. Feeling like the luckiest sluginaditch in the northern province, I skipped along to the Patel compound for dinner.

DINNER. When I got the chili announcement, I was expecting a pleasant snack with friends. Turns out, Mr. Patel is a chili aficionado, and he had commandeered the whole kitchen of his hotel to make a feast for us. When I got there, they were making fresh roti to go with the chili and chopping up carrots for a starter salad. Inga showed up soon with a veritable trough of delicious homemade guacamole and chips. There was even quality shredded cheese for the chili - I haven't seen decent cheese in five months. It was a FEAST! We ate and drank to our hearts' content and beyond, and it felt great to be in such good company.

This morning, after a pleasant sleep on a concrete floor that's never felt so soft, I caught a moto to the taxi park and snagged a front seat in the next bus to Shyorongi, another rare treat. I sat reading my book with my feet on the dash, enjoying the early morning cool. I saw a woman selling oranges and beckoned her over. The "oranges" here are a trial - they're the green sour kind with the tough, clingy skin, so eating them is not such a pleasant experience, but one wants one's vitamin C so I bought a couple. I stuck my thumbnail through the skin of the lightest one and was surprised at how easily it came away, then even more surprised to see a bright orange fruit underneath, instead of the pale yellow mish mash I expected. The skin came off and the sections separated easily, but I was still keeping my hopes as low as I could - this couldn't possibly be what I thought it was. I popped a wedge into my mouth and, honestly, squealed with delight. It was a SATSUMA! A sweet, tangy, intensely flavorful Christmastime treat. I ate the whole thing with my eyes closed, cementing my reputation as the weirdo muzungu of the taxi park, and it was one of the most pleasant incidents of my time in Rwanda so far.

On the ride back up to Shyorongi, the girl sitting next to me struck up a conversation in perfect English. She was working for a company that set up distribution centers for health supplies (like bed nets and condoms) in rural communities, and she's working in Shyorongi this week. She's a National University graduate who's spent a good amount of time in the United States, and was super pleasant to talk to. We traded numbers, and I hope I see her again. I hopped off the bus in Shyorongi and made it to school in time to snag some podcasts before my first class. Sweet!