Listening to the frogs croak while eating dinner, I realized that the majority of you do not get such a luxury right now, buried under inches/feet of snow. Sorry about that. But it also made me think about what cool things I do get to hear.
Frog croaks slowly fade out into the steady cricket chirp. This will last all night. Then about 5 am, every stinkin’ bird in Kigali will start talking. So I reluctantly crawl out of bed and go for a run. I get to hear pots clanging from within the homes that line my dirt road, and the faint hum of the radio. Then the moto honks and shouting bus conductors throw in their voices.
But its not until I head back to my home and sane people start leaving theirs that my favorite* calls are added to the mix. *Meaning of said word not necessarily the same as, like, a grape sno cone, or cherry…
Morning runs usually only see the hormonal boys, but afternoons, when the little tiny school kids are all headed home, I get to experience a symphony.
See, all I have to do is appear on the road.
“White perSON! whitepersonwhitepersonwhitepersonwhitepersonwhite person!”
Which is astounding seeing as how I am one of the guaranteed 20 white people they will all see that day. Still, I am a huge novelty. That never ceases to entertain.
And the kinyrwanda does not stop here. If they are young children it is immediately followed up with “Money! Give! give me money. you have. give me. Bon jour!”
And I can only imagine the chatter coming from the teenagers. “You are beautiful. You want to play sex with me? Hee hee hee hee hee.” And they continue egging each other on.
But, if I am bored/sarcastic enough, I will entertain myself and play the role of smiling waving tourist and laugh at them while they are laughing at me. All’s fun.
And I can deal with this minor concert knowing that the day will almost certainly give me an encore of rain.
See, by far the absolute best part of the day, no matter the time, is when I am stuck inside while the teeny tiny rain drops wreck havoc on the tin roof and pound any other thought out of my mind.
P.S. i think i need to point out how eerily quiet kigali is. yes there are roosters, chickens, goats (who often sound as if they are dying) and occasional moto/bus horns. however, as compared to the cacophony of sound that both new delhi and cairo are, kigali is like a library compared to the playground at recess that these other cities are.