But her mother's cousin did, and that's why she was here, dodging piles of horse manure and women in bright silks that looked down their noses at her. She couldn't understand what they said to each other. The language here was all wrong.
Supposedly they spoke the same language as she, but Kasai found their nasal-vowels confounding. She could not find words in the furious and rapid chatter, There were so many people and so many streets, winding and weaving around haphazard brick buildings that seemed to bend over the street.
But they didn't. Kasai knew they didn't. If they did, they would fall. And they didn't fall. Still, they did not put her at ease.
She craned her neck to find the signage at each of the streets. There were never any words, for which she was grateful, as she knew none. Images of birds and trees guided her to her relative's apartment over a shambling bakery with a dusty stoop.
The whole way she felt that she had followed a maze and by the time she stood there, staring at the door she wasn't certain she'd know how to turn around and leave the city. Kasai's inability to remember every turn she had taken on her way here was the only thing that prevented her from fleeing.
Then, the door opened.