We just got back from the market - quite an adventure. So far I'd only been to small shops and one "larger" grocery store; maybe a quarter of the size of Trader Joe's. The market is on the other side of town, and as soon as we arrived and everyone saw muzungus, the boys started rushing the car - they want to find you a parking spot and "guard your car" - pretty much unnecessary. They grab onto the car though and run along with you as you slow down. It's pretty intense, and you just have to ignore them. Consolee was with us - there is no way a foreigner can go to the market without a native - if people even bother dealing with you (which they often wouldn't) they will charge you an arm and a leg. So Consolee did all the talking, but Jen and I drove some hard bargains and got everything we needed pretty cheaply. My best buy was a huge bunch of cilantro for 17 cents. I also handled the bargaining of 30 eggs for $3.50, and 3 kilos (6.6 pounds) of potatoes for 89 cents. I think Consolee was surprised by how much Jen and I were determined to get things cheaply.


Though the actual bartering was fun, and the market was great to see, but the whole thing was kind of an annoying headache - it's a constant mob, and we were 2 of 3 white people there, in a place of a couple hundred - we're constantly getting poked, begged from, yelled at, pushed aside. We had Anna as well and she wasn't too much of a happy camper. Jen and I took turns holding her. Also, the Rwandese are always mesmerized by her. Besides the fact that she's totally adorable, a Chinese baby is a pretty rare thing here in Rwanda. People were trying to touch her, hold her, talk to her, etc. She was a little pissed.


They pile everything in pyramids, and there's all different sections - fruit, vegetables, rice, eggs, beans, flour, cornmeal, grain. I wanted to take more pictures but whenever I took the camera out people would kind of rush me - je ne sais pas. These are the "quieter" moments I was able to sneak.


You also hire a boy to carry your groceries for you, so you have your hands free to find, touch, smell, and pay. Consolee knew someone, so we had a 15 year old named Pierre helping us - he was really nice and not in your face unlike many of the kids here. We got a lot of stuff and he was surprised when I offered to help carry the bags. We kind of motioned to each other and I figured out the word for strong (by pointing to my amazing, beautifully defined muscles) - umufungu, if I remember correctly, but I probably don't. Don't take my word for it. I tried to get the word for weak, but he didn't seem to understand my saying "Qu'est-ce que c'est NO umufungu?"