Hair Braiding in Kacyiru

Well, I only have about 3 more weeks before I fly back to California, and things are getting very busy. True to form, I left a lot of little things to the end, so I have been running around picking things up and getting things done. Yesterday, I went to Kacyiru (another part of Kigali) with my friend Caitlin to get my hair braided again. So, after a little bit of haggling (not much, luckily, because I’m not good at it), I got them to braid my hair for 5000 rwf, which is about $10. I sat on a pillow on the floor for 7 or so hours, and every once in a while a few children would come in and stare and I would hear the muffled sound of them whispering “muzungu!”. Caitlin had haggled with the owner of the salon, who also runs a video rental, to let her borrow the second season of Lost. We watched 4 or 5 episodes of that, and she ran across the street to get me a piece of bread or an apple (I know – you’re not supposed to eat fruit that you can’t peel or wash yourself . . . but I feel fine . . .). Of course, the DVD was really messed up, so for the better part of our viewing, the sound lagged about 3 minutes behind the video. Eventually Caitlin got tired and went home, and about an hour later I was finished.
In order to set the hair so that the braids don’t come unraveled, the ends are stuck into boiling water. While I was waiting for the water to get hot enough, I sat in a chair and a bunch of kids standing at the door started talking to me. One of them spoke very good English, so I told them that I’m a student and that I come from America. Actually, people always ask ‘where do you live?’ and I respond ‘Kiyovu’. Then they kind of sigh and say ‘but you come from where?’, and then they tell me that America is a good place, and then sometimes they ask me if I can get them a visa.
So after everything was done, I walked up the hill to the Kacyiru bus station, trailing about 10 children. The leader of the pack, the one who spoke English, continued to ask me about school for a few minutes and finally said, “you buy us treat”. So, then I had to say no probably 10 times, because he would immediately ask why, alternating from English to French. Eventually I stopped walking and said, “I just told you that your English is very good, so clearly you understand me when I say ‘no’. If you continue to ask me, I will become upset.” I kept walking and they all turned around and walked back down the hill.
On the bus, a man behind me who also spoke English started asking me where I was from, what I was doing here, etc. He is the driver for the Libyan Ambassador. He asked me how I like Rwanda, although it was more of a statement than a question, like “So you have been enjoying Rwanda, it is good country”. I said yes, that it is beautiful here and that people are kind. Then I added that sometimes it is tiring to be called Muzungu everywhere you go. He chuckled and said, “But even that they call you muzungu it is good”. What he meant by that, I wasn’t exactly sure, but then the man sitting next to me said something to me in Kinyarwanda , and the whole bus started laughing. Then the man behind me translated, “He said he needs money”.
After the bus stop in Mumuji (downtown), I had about a 20 minute walk home, and there aren’t usually street lights, so I had to choose my route carefully. When I was almost to my house, I passed 3 soldiers with huge rifles and camouflage. The first two just said good evening, but the last one stopped me to ask where I was going and where I lived. I answered him, albeit vaguely. As I walked on, I realized how long I have really been here and how these things that I had encountered that trip home (not the least of which the huge guns) had totally disarmed me when I first got here, but now they are just commonplace. Man, it is going to be really weird to get back to the United States . . .