Indulging the Senses

Indulging the Senses

I think anytime you are dropped into a place and culture far from your own, your senses are bound to go a little crazy trying to absorb all of the differences and new sensations. Rwanda has been no exception, though I think as time passes I am less and less aware of my initial sensory absorption. Before they are fully absorbed and can no longer be recognized and therefore expressed, I will do what I can to share them with you.

Smell:

As I first stepped off the plane in Africa, I was pleased to be greeted by the fresh smells of the morning. I had anticipated humidity that would hold in the smells of city, but it was not to be. Kigali is surprisingly fresh and clean, especially for a city of a million people, many of whom live in obvious poverty. But as I journeyed a little farther, I became quickly aware of another smell, less fragrant and pleasurable than the last. It is the smell of people-though the scent is quite distinct from the people-smells I have previously encountered. I have yet to identify whether it is an unclean smell, that of sweat and grime, or if it is an intentional one, that of creams or oils. Perhaps it is some combination of the two, though the scent grows much stronger in small, confined spaces like mini-buses, always filled to the brim with those of us not fortunate enough to own our own cars. This people-smell, as with all others, is quickly fading, though I think if I were to encounter it away from Africa, I might recognize it immediately and know the association without much thought. The majority of the time now, my nose is filled with smells of cooking over small coal fires, fruit trees which seem continually in bloom, rain, and as I have recently moved into a freshly painted-and-repaired house, the smells of glue, paint, and what I imagine to be some sort of cleaning supplies. In sum, my nose is not unhappy here.