Bujumbura, Burundi

Holding a boarding pass that said 1F, a beautiful woman sat down next to me on this flight from Kigali to Nairobi. She stood out from the rest of those who boarded at the Kigali stop, not because 80 percent of other newcomers were white and often British, but because of her natural beauty, her brilliant smile, and as I learned later, a vivant personality to match. She turned out to be a Burundaise from Bujumbura.

Women, however, were not the only beautiful thing I noticed in Burundi.

This thought came to me one early morning as I was sipping a cup of coffee at the Hotel Club des Vacances. Grown in a land that had absorbed blood, sweats, and tears of hundreds of thousand people after years of violent civil war, the coffee had a distinctive mixture of sweetness and bitterness, leaving an almost-crude but unforgettable after-taste on the tongue. In front of my eyes, a soft halo of sunshine graced through lines and lines of palm trees, reflecting on the sandy beach that stretched miles and miles around lake Tanganyika. Two crystal-crown birds – particular to this land – approached the stairs, begging for some food. Far away, a fisherman anchored his small boat after a long night on the lake, bringing home tens of mukekes and sangalas.

That’s the thing about life in Burundi – slow, simple, yet subtly beautiful. Outside the small circle of the big men and their families whose social calendars are often filled with cocktails and receptions, most people live an almost routinely lifestyle trying to earn a living – just like pretty much everywhere else. Yet, something particular – like the Friday-afternoon nation-wide sporting program, the neighborhood-organized group exercises, or large congregations at local churches – brings out a sort of simplistic beauty. It may not be for everyone, but this is the type of detour and defrag that anyone can every now and then appreciate.

I know I certainly did.


Photo: View from the breakfast restaurant - Hotel du Club Tanganyika