Giving Directions

Something you may not know about Rwanda is that there are no street signs. Luckily I live near a landmark, so I can tell motos to take me to the nearby hotel, and then direct them to my dirt road. Sometimes (most times) when I’m super lazy, I make them rumble over the gravel to take me literally to my door. But, come on, I’m already over-paying because I’m white, so I should get what I pay for! No one lives on a main road, and, even if they do, said main road isn’t labeled. Giving directions here is an art.

I stayed at my friend’s house a month or so ago, and she gave me directions by telling me to go to a main market, turn into a gas station that doesn’t look like a street, but it is a street, go left, walk straight, turn left again at the corn husks where little children yell “Good Morning” and walk uphill, go a little ways and you’re there. What? I made it though. That’s right.

Last weekend I got on a moto headed to the other volunteer’s house. They sort of live near a police station, past a main mosque. So I explained by saying “Go to la mosque, twende, a la policia station stop. Hano.” Soo…in total that’s what? 3-4 languages in there? So really, “Go to (English) la mosque (Spanish/French? Really, I just put LA in front of mosque), twende (Swahili), a la policia (Spanish) stop (English). Hano (Kinyarwanda).” I mean I don’t even know what language that all comes together as. And why I continue to speak Spanish here confuses me and everyone.

I am planning to go to South America next; unless I can make no winter 2011 in Burundi happen. But seriously, apparently I’m on the wrong continent and when did I get so good at Spanish?? No sé, pero necesito ir a South America. Adios!

*Don’t correct that if it’s wrong.