Kupotea Lisbon

Sofía alikuwa na hakika kwamba jumba la makumbusho lilikuwa mitaa mitatu tu. Kulingana na ramani yake, alihitaji kugeuka kushoto tu. Lakini mitaa ya Lisbon haikuwa kama mitaa ya miji mingine. Ilipanda mlimani. Ilipinda kama nyoka. Iliisha bila onyo lolote.

Sofía was sure the museum was three streets away. According to her map, all she had to do was turn left. But Lisbon's streets did not behave like streets in other cities. They climbed. They twisted. They ended without warning.

Baada ya dakika ishirini, alisimama katika uwanda mdogo ambao hakuwa ameuona katika ramani yoyote. Paka mmoja alikuwa amelala kitini. Mzee mmoja wa kike alikuwa akining'iniza nguo kutoka uwandani.

After twenty minutes, she stopped on a small square she had never seen on any map. A cat was asleep on a chair. An old woman was hanging clothes from a balcony.

"Samahani," Sofía alimwita. "Je, unajua njia ya kwenda jumba la makumbusho?" Mzee huyo alikunja uso wake na kutoweka ndani. Sofía alidhani amekuwa mkali. Lakini dakika moja baadaye, mwanamke huyo alitoka nje ya mlango wa mbele wa jengo, polepole, akishika karatasi.

"Excuse me," Sofía called up. "Do you know the way to the museum?" The old woman frowned and disappeared inside. Sofía thought she had been rude. But a minute later, the woman came out of the front door of the building, slowly, holding a piece of paper.

Alikuwa amechora ramani ndogo kwa mkono. Mitaa mitatu, pembe mbili, chemchemi moja. "Usiiamini simu hapa," alisema kwa Kiingereza kidogo. "Simu hupotea akili katika mtaa huu."

She had drawn a small map by hand. Three streets, two corners, a fountain. "Don't trust the phone here," she said in careful English. "The phone gets confused in this neighborhood."

Sofía alimshukuru. Hakukipata jumba la makumbusho siku hiyo. Aliiweka ramani hiyo ya karatasi kwa safari yote.

Sofía thanked her. She did not find the museum that afternoon. She kept the paper map for the rest of the trip.