Rubona market

Some girls I met at the market who helped me pick out a skirt

Kids waving and saying "muzungu!"(which means white person)

      I’ve never thought of myself as that interesting of a person before. But today in the market, I was the most interesting person in town. Every single person stopped what they were doing to stare and watch my every move. I knew that my group would be stared at because white people rarely walk through these neighborhoods, but we were mobbed and followed and watched like caged animals in a zoo! I was completely freaked out at first because I would get surrounded by a group of kids and everyone would stop what they were doing to study us. The market was extremely colorful and filled with all sorts of fruits and vegetables, African fabrics and clothes. Of course I went straight to the African fabrics and clothes because loose, colorful skirts are my weaknesses. There were piles and piles of beautiful, hand woven skirts for only a couple dollars each. I dug into the mound of costumes to find the right pattern and size I wanted and when I finally found a beautiful brown and black garment, I looked up and realized that my audience had rapidly grew to what felt like a hundreds eyes gawking at me. I ended up paying 1,000 Rwandan franks which is roughly only two dollars.

 I kept walking through the market and saw tiny babies strapped on mothers backs, little, barefooted kids drawing in the sand and goats and chickens walking freely. Most of the clothes and artifacts were lying out on blankets on the ground and old woman were sitting on hay folding and sorting out piles. As I was walking to buy baby bananas(they are the size of my thumb but extremely sweet and amazing), I saw a group of little girls with bright blue dresses and instantly remembered this uniform from a week earlier when I visited an elementary school. I smiled and waved to all of them and they all started giggling. One of them remembered me and came running up to me and hugged my leg. I kneeled down to her and gave her a big hug and felt her hard, bloated tummy and when I looked into her face, although she was only 5 years old, she had wrinkles and dry, sagged skin because of dehydration and lack of nutrition. I so badly wanted to give her money and food but I knew It wouldn’t be fair to give her in front of all the other kids. Even If I did give her some money or food, it would only last a few days and wouldn’t change her terrible situation. It’s so hard seeing such an adorable,sweet kid that needs so much care and knowing that you can’t do a damn thing to help. Her smile portrayed unconditional happiness though and she had the most adorable twinkling eyes and I will never forget her face.

After buying fruit, we went through an alleyway to the back of someones house who makes and sells a delicious food called semosa. A huge crowd followed us there and so the street was packed. There was a huge pot with boiling oil and they threw in potatoes, onions, peppers and lots of spices and then wrapped them in a thin coating of dough and fried it until it was crunchy. It was very spicy but absolutely delicious. Then we walked across to the end of the market and sat down and people ordered goat skewers and cold coke. 

Boy making semosas

The village is about an hour walk and on the way back we passed a school and everyone started screaming and put their heads out the window and yelled the only English they knew- “Good morning!”(even though it was the afternoon) and “How are you?” We finally arrived at the outside gates of the village. It was strange looking at the village from the outside because when were in the village, I always see people walking outside of the gate and gazing into the village. From the outside of the gate, the village looks like a dream- nice, westernized houses, happy clean children and a huge dining hall with amazing smells that pervade the air for miles. I always wondered how they felt from the outside knowing that they weren’t as lucky to get accepted in like the other children. When the guards saw us and opened the gate, I once again remembered how privileged and lucky I am. Before leaving the village, I always had so much pity and empathy for the students of the village but compared to everyone living outside of it, they are extremely fortunate kids. I’m in such awe of Anne, the founder of the village, for creating such a magical, wonderful place.