Embarrassing Fact #1
I’m probably the worst tourist on this side of town.
Everytime I go to a new place, I’m more concerned about making myself at home than seeing sights and/ or snapping photos.
Like that one time in Nairobi when I watched Hannah Montana reruns the whole day.
Or that time in Mombasa when I was like “.. yay, free wifi!” and forgot to leave my hotel room.
In my defense, I did go to Fort Jesus and saw Old Town and ate shawarma, but someone else arranged that, and I didn’t even take any photos.
Embarrassing Fact #2
I studied French for 6 years in highschool. I was even one of the best in my class but now I can barely construct a sentence. I’m appropriately ashamed. Bonjour.
That said, I was recently in Kigali for about a week.
We stayed at an airbnb. It was sweet and homey. I don’t have pictures of our room, but there was this cute sitting situation outside that I was really feeling.
I also went to a craft shop and bought these useless “thingies.” I can’t figure out what they’re called, but don’t they look great on my wall of shame?
Because I watch way too much TV. And I told myself I loved those sunnies when I bought them, but I’m never in the mood to wear them. And I don’t even know what those last thingies are called but I went to the craft shop and they were cute and affordable so I bought them, even though I had no idea what I would use them for. This is supposed to be my #wallofshame but alas, I’m in love. I guess we’ll just have to call it a #flawsandall wall then. #walls #decor #interiors #bedroom
SHOES!!! I haven’t worn them yet, but I’m hopeful.
Of course I spent a day at the café (instead of going to see the genocide museum because it sounded too depressing)
This is like the Rwandan version of our Javas — Bourbon Café at UTC.
Why is eggs benedict called eggs benedict? Does it know The Pope or something?
I also took a walk around the ‘hood..
The I-know-I-am-going-to-get-lost-but-I-am-smarter-than-Hansel-and-Gretel version of a trail.
And finally these flowers.
The first time I saw them was at my father’s funeral. I was about 5 years old. The second time was on this trip in Kigali so of course I caught feelings, but in a good way.
It felt like my dad was looking out for me, and I decided that he is proud of me, and approves of my life choices. (This is how I get through life, by only thinking good things about myself. I think it’s called convenient delusion)
So, that’s it! Not the best travel recap, but I told myself that I needed to document it anyway.
Remember that time on F.R.I.E.N.D.S when Phoebe was like “.. if you want to receive e-mails about my upcoming shows, then please give me money so I can buy a computer” ?
Well, if you want me to write better travel posts then please pay for my trips and give me an itinerary (and a few threats) to work with.