Baptised with sweat !

As if it wasn’t enough that I was having a hard time queuing for registration, it was even worse that I had to greet my classmates. Just as I approached the registration hall, I saw people greet each other like they had been away for years.

Thursday, August 29, 2013

As if it wasn’t enough that I was having a hard time queuing for registration, it was even worse that I had to greet my classmates. Just as I approached the registration hall, I saw people greet each other like they had been away for years.

Well, it was a bit exciting to me because I would also use this chance to hug the girls I really liked but had kept it to myself for so long.That was of course if the boys gave me the chance - as I got closer and closer to the hall, a bunch of guys were already there. One guy came, hugged me and did some rare greeting stunt that I had only seen once (in the village during the 90’s).

After wrapping his sweaty arms around me, leaving marks of sweat on my new shirt, he moved his forehead to touch mine, left right and centre. Wow, if you think his hands where sweaty, imagine how wet his forehead was. He practically left my forehead dripping with sweat. As if that wasn’t enough, the next guy came and expected to do the same. I couldn’t take this any longer. I stretched out my hand to him but this wasn’t good enough. The guy still hugged me. I had borrowed cologne from my neighbour earlier because I knew I was going to hug the hot ladies, but by the end of the greetings, I didn’t have any more great scent on me other than the scent of the sweaty boys. My forehead was covered in sweat that wasn’t mine, and to add salt to the wound, I found myself sweating too! I wondered how to say hi to the cute ladies when I was practically baptised in sweat. I decided to walk over to them. As I got closer, some other rare girl came to say hi. Okay, on top of being funny looking, she wore so much makeup; I thought she had been attacked by crayons! After she greeted me, she left some of her Christmas tree makeup on me. With sweat already splattered on my face, one could think I had also decorated my face. When I got to my final destination, the ladies were telling me to clean my face and this killed any chances of trying to greet them in Rwandan culture - three pecks on the cheek. I am not greeting anymore.