For now this is a goodbye...

So, around this time one week ago I finishing packing my things and starting to say goodbye to all the girls at the residence. I've been back in Europe for almost a week, and I can honestly say that I still haven't digested everything.
It's crazy how life is back here, we worry about the stupidest things and as much as I might criticize that I'm guilty of quickly falling into that pattern again. But one pattern that I hope not to fall into again is to let those little things hinder me and make me forget the big picture and the amazing experience that I have had for almost 6 months.
The human spirit is what I have learned the most about, it is something very fragile that we seem to forget. It is barely tangible here, but in the months I spent in Kinshasa and in the DRC it is the strongest thing that I came in contact with. It is beautiful and it is what makes us all alike, no matter where we are or where we are from. It is what brings us together...and unfortunatly what brings us apart. As corny as this might all sound...this is what I have learned, along with, I beleive I wrote this before--we accomplish the most in life when we don't settle for comfort...
So with these words I will not say goodbye, but a see you soon, because I hope to go back to the DRC in about 1 year for my masters project. :)

And its down to 7 days...

The first pic is when me and Carmen (a Spanish doctor that came for a couple of weeks) commentated on the World Cup match of Spain vs. Switzerland, live on Congolese TV. J The doctor who invited us (turns out he also works in TV, having various jobs is something quite common here in order to make enough money).

The second picture is of the audience I spoke to during a

conference I helped organize at the University of Kinshasa. I got the Chief of Mission from the U.S. Embassy to come all the way there and they also wanted me to say a few words. –What bizarre and challenging experiences, but sooo amazing at the same time!! I can officially say that I have conquered my fear of public speaking in French.

I’m leaving in a week, and its soo sad to think that it’s coming to an end. I’ve made amazing friends, lived through things I never thought I would, and learned how to love and appreciate a culture so far, yet so close, from my own.

I’ve come to learn about the human spirit and the human force that drives us. What I’m most scared of is that I will forget all of this after the first few weeks of being back. My mind cannot fathom some of things I will have once I’m back—I’m used to the chaos, the precautions that are taken daily, time never being an issue because many things cannot be prevented—like 2 and a half hour traffic jams because there are no other roads to take.

Well, for now I’m trying just to enjoy the last few days that I have here, making sure that I enjoy them to the fullest!!

But I will say that I’m getting a bit tired—I think I did a good job timing everything. And I’m now truly starting to miss everyone back home—for all of you know that know me, you know that I don’t get homesick often, mostly be cause I just keep going and don’t let myself think about it—but now I’m getting to that point where I want to be able in a place with people around me in which I can just fully let go and relax.

Hasta prontito everyone!

Maurice, Mika, Joyce are a few of their names

The pictures are of the neigborhood children Carolina (1 pic has her in it) and I got to meet and are now friends with—they are wonderful!!! They come up and hug me right away.

Soo…only 1 month left, I’m truly having a hard time thinking about that. Yesterday Carolina, the Spanish girl that also lived in the residence, left back to Spain. It was sad seeing her leave and think that that would be me in a few days. But on to the fun things that I’m planning so I don’t realize I’m leaving until the day actually comes… J

- I’m hoping to leave for Goma, in the east of the DRC, bordering with Rwanda. It’s been a conflict area and I wanted to learn a bit more before I left because I’ve been given the opportunity to go for a good price. I will be staying with someone I know there and am arranging some tours with some NGOs there as well as visiting the families of some of the girls here.

- I’m coordinating a conference at the University of Kinshasa with the Rector and the Chief of Mission at the US Embassy for the 21^st of June—cross your fingers because it might actually work out and I might have to be the moderator in a crowd of about 500 Congolese students. J

- I’m heading off to a few celebrations—the Swedish national day celebration at the embassy this Friday and the 30^th of June celebration with the choir.

I’ve had an amazing experience that will shape the way I see life from now on. One thing that I hope to share with whomever is reading this is that we accomplish the most in life when we don’t settle for comfort. Comfort is something that so many take for granted but which so few have the luxury to have.

Oh, if anyone is reading this and has contacts in Paris—the choir is looking for a place to stay for a few days in the middle of August—they are a great group of people and I hope I can do them this favor. I’m trying to get in touch with some places, but any help would be great.

Botondi Mingi—Merci—Thank you

And then end begins! :(

Pictures are from the excursion that I went on this Saturday with the choir—I finally went to one of their official practices—they sing sooooo well, but I’m working on improving my voice.J

The girl in the picture is Joëlle, she is my closest Congolese friend here. She is the one that invited me to come to the choir and who works with me. I don’t know what I would have done without her!

So…I’m officially way past half way through my experience here…and I already know that I will truly miss this city. The last few weeks have been wonderful; I’ve been making a lot of new friends and truly getting to know this city and its people. Yes, there have been some rough points—the consistency of my students is waning and

I’m getting used to the chaos and taking the transport on my own—it’s almost normal. People in the neighborhood know my name—I’ve made a bit of a life here. J I have less than 2 months left and I know that they will go by too quickly. It’s crazy how the human person can adapt itself to new surroundings. I had such a limited knowledge of what this place would be like and know…I’m getting to know a lot.

One of the most exciting things that I’ve been able to do so far is visit the University of Kinshasa. I was able to go to a conference they held with the ex-Russian ambassador who is now the head of the Center for Russo-African Relations. Quite interesting to see a communists perspective on Africa and its development (he openly said he was communist J). I’ve also become acquainted with the president (rector) of the university—he’s this big African man who speaks fluent Spanish—he got his masters in Spain--the world is a very small place.

Between two worlds...

The pictures are of the day in which I officially translated for the english nurse--at work.

This weekend I found myself in-between two worlds. I was able to experience another little world here in Kinshasa—the world of going out—I was able to go to a club with some friends and it was one of my most surreal moments I have experienced.

We went to a brand new club that had just opened with a group of people that were obviously well known in this world—no cover, direct entrance to a table, etc—and going into the club it felt like I could have been in Europe or in a good club in the U.S. I had lots of fun dancing and meeting other people—mostly foreigners, but also some local Congolese who were obviously very well off. To think that that morning I had been teaching English to nursing students that come from areas in the Congo were fighting still continues…

The next morning I woke up to go to a church that the University choir had been invited to sing at. Some of the friends that I have in the choir invited me to go and I hopped in a taxi and went to the church (I have now taken the local transport by myself about 3 times, its been so nice re-gaining some of my independence and everyone has been super nice and helpful when I have taken it J--although I will only do it when necessary). I ended up getting there a bit earlier and found some of the choir members that had also arrived. We sat there waiting for the others coming from the university—but it turns out that they had left really late—so with only about 15 people there they told me that I should also sing with them. I said ok, knowing that I would be walking into a mass with about 300 people and a choir of only 15, with a mundele singing in it. What an experience! Later on the rest of the choir arrived (about 40 others) and I was able to hide in-between the crowd. I had to act like I know the French songs, moving my mouth, since we where being taped by various people—the Choir has a lot of fame here in Kinshasa!

There are little details here and there that I have left out, but as you can see I was able to go in-between two drastic realities within the time period of 12 hours and I think I have yet to digest it. I wanted to see what the ex-pat world was like here in Kinshasa during the night because so many of the foreign friends I have made rave about it, but I think that one experience like this one might suffice. This country is one of drastic worlds, of opposites, hummers and land rovers driving around side-by-side small vans packed with about 20 to 25 people hoping that the breaks will work properly or that those hanging on to the side wont fall off. I’m lucky that I have come to know the reality of this country and get to know the local population—so many of the foreigners here live in their little worlds without getting to know the reality. I know that this is a coping mechanism that many need because the reality might be to difficult, but at the same time the reality is one of the most beautiful things—happiness and life that surpass all the suffering that exists.

Happy Easter

I won a free phone!!!!

Last Saturday was a wonderful day; we had a day planned out for International Woman Day. A bit late, but super fun! I was able to attend a conference that they organized for the girls in which we had a woman politician come and speak about the women’s role in politics and democracy. She used to be the vice-minister in charge of superior and university studies—an amazing woman I hope to meet again. Everything she said was soooo good to hear, especially for the girls here. Its great to hear stories like hers, and even though she works for the current government, you can tell that even just her presence in the parliament improves the country.

Afterwards we had a football/soccer match in which the teachers played against the students. I got to be in the teacher side J and actually scored one goal and assisted in the other two, lets just say that we won—3-0! And to top it off, the winning team got a free phone with a sim card—around a $20 value here! It was made possible because the phone company—ZAIN came and used the event as promotion. We probably had about 50 spectators in total, plus the people in the neighborhood that came because of curiosity. The picture is the one we took after the match, it was so much fun!! I'm way in the back, you can only make out my face.

This Saturday was also an adventure! I finally got to explore the city on my own with Carolina. We were dropped off and walked all over, we had lots of little errands to run and it was quite exciting to regain some of the independence that I’m so used to. We also met up with another Carolina (she’s Italian and working for an NGO that is right next to the hospital, but she lives in the city) for lunch at a patisserie. We walked almost all the way there, so we traversed the whole city and took the transport on our own. Oh, what a wonderful day it was.

Getting situated

(I was able to snag these pics in from an office building in the center of Kinshasa. It looks like any other city, but if you look closely you might be able to see some of the mayhem of the traffic and how the roads are being repaired. There are not many high-rises in Kinshasa, but I somehow managed to visit one. J)

It has been a while! So, recapping what I have done in the past 2 weeks:

- Not sure if I mentioned it yet, but finally got to dance! For my b-day celebration we went to a place where there was a small club and we got to dance for a whooping 20min. But the day after, my actual b-day we danced at the residence and I was invited to my first official Congolese party were they couldn’t believe their eyes when I started dancing—they were surprised to see a white person with rhythm.

- My classes finally got their first quizzes back and they did their first oral presentations—in some cases the whole class started laughing, causing me to laugh as well!!

- I went horseback ridding in the middle of Kinshasa, in a very typical ex-pat place, it was nice to have a little break. It felt like we had literally been transported to the colonial times because it was like a little paradise in the middle of Kinshasa with 65 acres of trails. It was the true jungle. (Will put up pics soon, the Spanish hospital engineer took some that are amazing, but I have yet to get them.)

- I ate caterpillars—lots of them—they are considered good here and have lots of protein. Got to admit that it wasn’t bad and I had no side effects. J

- Unofficially joined the choir at the parish for the University of Kinshasa—making a lot more friends this way and I even ventured out last Sunday on my own to go to the rehearsal. I’m technically not really singing with them—they are amazing and my voice is in no disposition to actually be able to accompany the performances.

- Met with CALI—the institute that works with the U.S. Embassy to teach English. It has a very high reputation in Kinshasa and we will hopefully be working with them if they start back up in the next month (has been closed for a few months now, but they mentioned they were starting at the end of this month, cross your fingers!)

- Meeting more people that work at different ONGs, embassies, etc. and making a few visits here and there to find out more on the functionality of the international affairs world here.

Journee de la Femme!!

The 8^th of March is a day that celebrates woman throughout the world. I’m wearing a typical “pagne” which is a skirt and top made from some fabric I bought here and custom tailored by the cousin of one of the women I work with—a total of $20. As I walked down the street today I had countless people telling me how good it looked and smiling, they were so happy that a “mundele”—(a white foreigner in the local language of Lingala, literally meaning the color white, although French is normally spoken by all in the ca

pital). “Mundele has become a Congolese!” “Oh, mundele looks beautiful!” There was no way for me to avoid blushing and smiling like crazy—I finally felt accepted by the locals and in return I displayed my respect to them by wearing their traditional garments.

It’s ironical that this day is more celebrated throughout Africa and other developing countries than in the U.S. The woman here is slowly gaining some rights, but from the experience I have had here so far, it is far far from anything we are used to. I live in the capital, so I’m able to witness a situation that is much better than that in the rest of the country, but polygamy and dowries are still very frequent here. I live in a residence with some of the nursing students at the school where I teach and some of them alrea

dy have boyfriends who have paid the dowry to the respective family so that when they return home they will be married right away. They love the boys they are engaged to, but fail to see that this price essential labels them as property. I have been able to make some friends with some other unmarried women that think that this is unacceptable, but even so, they understand that they might never marry a man who treats them as an equal. They know that they will probably always have to have a meal prepared for their husband, no matter if they work throughout the day and have the small ones to take care of. To top it off, some of them are in their mid-20s and late 20s and getting worried that they are not yet married—it is not sociable acceptable to hit 30 and not be married. This is something I have encountered personally by men asking me why I have no children or husband in the U.S.

As dismal as the situation might seem here, women have an opportunity to show their power on days like the 8^th of March. I walked out the street to get lunch at the residence and I was greeted by the sound of music and a mass of women and girls marching in the sand filled streets, dancing and chanting, celebrating what they are, all dressed in the traditional “pagne”. Police escort them throughout the street and are on their beck-and-call. At least one day out of 365 they get the recognition they deserve.

Shedding some blood

Written on Sunday:

It figures that the first time that I give blood is in Kinshasa. I’m not able to give blood in the US because of their fright that I might still have mad cow disease from the time I lived in a western European country—here they have more important things to worry about.

I was able to go to the HIV/AIDs clinic that Monkole hospital also has. They call it Monkole 3, it’s only a day clinic and it gives free HIV tests and free medicine to those that they find are HIV positive.

They screened me before I gave blood—making sure that I wasn’t positive and that my hemoglobin was high enough for me to give blood—making sure that I didn’t have malaria. J I was able to give a quart of blood and found out that I’m O+, didn’t know until then that I had my mom’s recessive O.

That same day I made my first official live translation, there is a nurse here who leaves tomorrow and has been working on sickle cell disease. She’s from London, Kim, and works at the Royal London Hospital as a specialized nurse on SS—sickle cell. I had to translate her presentation—which she luckily had already tried to work into French—and overall I think the students understood me. It was quite nerve wracking but since they are all so friendly it was a great first experience!

I was also invited to my first birthday party this weekend. Maggie—one of the teachers at ISSI—had a daughter who turned one and I was able to go with two of the students that live in my residence, which accompanied me. While we were making our way through the crowds at rond-point (got to buy a little doll for the cute b-girl!) to find a transport, I randomly ran into Joelle and Serge with a couple of other people that were also going to go to the same party. The world is soooo small. As many of you know—I have a very very weird custom of running into people I know almost everywhere I go! This wasn’t the first time it had happened in Kinshasa—on our way back from the concert of Joelle’s choir I saw the guard that works at our residence on the street—as we were driving by!

Well, apart from the world being small—the party was very nice. I was able to talk to some of the “grown-ups” while still having fun with the little children that kept running around. I was able to actually participate in an intellectual conversation with some of the guests as they discussed what this country needed in order to develop—the subject that was most discussed was the conditions of the roads—figures. J

The Public Transport!

Almost two weeks have flown by!!! I’ve been doing lots!

So…let me at least begin with the pic that’s up. This is when I went to the event at the Protestant University of Kinshasa—when the cops stopped us. To the left of my is Gaelle (we are in the very back) who came with me and as you can see there is literally almost no women in the classroom! I’m going to try and go again with some of the girls I live with so the get more of a variety. J

I will start from last Friday—what an exciting day! In the morning I was able to go to the U.S. Embassy for a meeting with USAID. They had invited our institution to be there as part of the civil society in the DRC. USAID is currently looking into expanding the aid they give towards fighting malaria. I was able to go with one of the doctors and represent the nursing school—it was amazing to be there with people from the CDC and USAID that wanted our input—and there were others—like the regional head of the Red Cross and the president of the organization that heads all the DRC’s NGO’s. That was already amazing—and then I was invited to go to the Ambassadors residence for a concert that evening—being that it’s black history month. I had to rush back teach class, leave early, and finally take the public transport into town.

Here I can’t take the transport by myself—they (the people I live and work with) want me to always be accompanied—which makes. I was able to go with Joelle—who is the general secretary of ISSI (my immediate superior—I think—still trying to get myself organized J). Joelle was invited to go with the people from her choir so once we got there I was able to actually sit with people from Kinshasa. It was funny because there was a division in the seating arrangements—the expats all sat amongst themselves (it might also be because all the rest came a bit later, as is the custom) and the Congolese and a few others sat to the left of the stage. I loved being a part of that crowd that evening—I mingled with some of the diplomats and such, but mostly I was able to meet the people from the choir—who have all studied in the University of Kinshasa and are now doing their best to have jobs and make a life for themselves here.

I went to the event knowing that on the way back I would have to take the transport again, and luckily the choir let me go with them on the rented little bus until ron-point, where I would get off with one of the guys from the choir that lived close by and he would accompany me on another taxi we would take there.

--Let me make a side note about the transport here: There are no bus routes that exists, and def no trains whatsoever, and very few roads—there is literally only 2 routes that we can take into town and if both are blocked by some accident (its only one lane each way—highways do not exist) then you just cants get into town. So, you stand at the side of the road and make hand gestures to the location you want to go, or you ask. Normally you can either get in a normal car with the chauffer and three to four other people (which is more expensive) or you can take the taxi bus, which is like a small van crammed with people sitting in regular benches.---

I was able to take the taxi cars on the way in, but when we got back Serge and I had to look for a taxi bus. Mind you it was already about 9:45ish so it was dark, but we hassled around and were able to get into one—you have to push and shove—having no shame. I was so happy to take the transport because I finally got to experience what the people I live and work with have to take. On top of that I found out that Serge was a doctor who had finished his studies and now was lucky enough to have found work at a very poor medical center. As he told me about how little he gets paid and how he has to treat patients that he knows have no money and which he will have to help pay from his pocket—I could only think of how generous the people here are. They have so little to give, but give it all in their daily struggle. Here he was again, taking me home, generous enough to take on the burden of having to guide a mundele around—the looks the remarks and all. Ok, I will stop here and make another entry shortly—have lots more to tell about this week!

And I finally get to meet the cops!

It’s been a while and a lot has happened! I finally had my first encounter with the police in Kinshasa and witnessed a real protest, not the non-violent type that we are used to, but the type in which everyone around starts running and cars make a quick 180 to drive away. Luckily I was in a car and we had no trouble getting away, but the poor Spanish doctor that was driving was a bit shook up. There were supposed gunshots and all that comes with a real protest and still no one really knows why the students were protesting (it was by the one of the national universities in Kinshasa).

As for the encounter with the police here…I will admit that I was a bit scared. I was with one of the drivers that my residence lent me for a few hours so one of my English students (who lives with me in the residence—she’s hilarious!) and I could attend an event that I was invited to by the director of the U.S. Cultural Institute. It was at the Protestant University of the Congo, in which they have an “American Corner” where students come and practice their English every Saturday afternoon. So, on our way there we stopped at an intersection in which the police where controlling traffic and checking people as they drove by. We were of course stopped since there was a Mundele (I have come to learn that the literal translation is the color white in Lingala, the native language in this region of the DRC) in the car. I was already expecting this but what I was not expecting was what would come next…our driver actually being told to drive of to the side of the road with one of the officers that had forced himself inside. They were convinced that Teo’s (the driver) drivers license was expired—which of course they were making up. Teo had to get out of the car and there was one point in which one of the officers almost took the keys from him and tried to drive of with Gaelle and I still in the car. Teo finally convinced the officers to let us go where we needed to go (30 minutes lalter J) and that he would return right after—they kept all his documentation to make sure he would return. I had to give Teo a few dollars in order to assure that he would get his documents back and we were dropped off at the “American Corner.” Luckily by the time the event was finished Teo had returned. The officers had thought that I would return with him because in their eyes I was his employer, but once he returned without me they understood that he would have no more than a few dollars to offer and gave him back his documents. The poor guy was so agitated because he knew that he had to behave with the officers today because it was Saturday (the day they get most anxious) and had alcohol in their breath.

It’s sad to know that the mundele has done so much harm in this country. I was expecting this type of treatment but at the same time its hard to come to terms with the fact that they also view you as one of those rich white people that they want to rough around. In the end I felt a bit sorry for those officers, their dismal pay causes them to seek out other ways of gaining an income--and with the few dollars they got from me they continue drinking.

There is so much harm that has come to this country because of what has been done in order to get to its resources--but on the brighter side, the people still have a lot of hope for their country. That is the hope that I see everyday in the eyes of the girls that I live with. It is that hope that keeps them going and which keeps me going today as well.

What I miss the most....

This was written last week, so it's a little late.

What I miss the most…(of course, aside from all my family and friends!!!)

I’m sad to say, for all of you who know that I try and not be too attached to electronic thing…it’s just that…electricity and everything that comes with it. Yes, we have electricity, but in all my classes so far this week the electricity has been cut. It doesn’t run very well, anytime there is a storm that hits—blackout—even if it’s just rain for a few minutes. Although I have to admit, when it rains here it really rains!!! It’s like a Monsoon hits and no one goes out in the open. And the storms, oh the storms!!! I have woken up numerous times in the middle of the night thinking the world was ending. I’m not frightened easily, but here you always hear the crack of the lightning like its right about you and it’s the loudest thunder I’ve ever heard.

Ok, so as for our electric situation here—luckily we have a back-up generator that can be switched on if the class is just beginning or if we know ahead of time. But that means that I’m growing habituated to working in the dark because the wont use it until its absolutely necessary. And if it’s towards the end of class then the students just end up leaving—while I’m there shouting on the top of my lungs the homework they have to do for next class. J

Centre ville

I finally got to go into the city on Tuesday. What a fun trip! I live about 45min to an hour from the centre du ville and driving in Kinshasa is always an adrenaline rush. I had to go in to make copies of the books I will be giving to my students—now close to 80!—and to register myself at the U.S. Embassy. I wasn’t able to go and say hi to the Swedish one, but I already registered online for that one—and more on that subject at another time, I think I will be going Tuesday to meet the Ambassador! Cross your fingers!

We went with some of the other people that work around here—there is a project called CEPHY founded by the EU (they work on ensuring that schools throughout Kinshasa and the DRC are teaching sanitary classes) and one of their employees also had to run some errands (although theirs were a lot more important than mine—dropping off letters of correspondence in the Ministry of Foreign Affairs and the Ministry of Health J).

We were able to go to the U.S. Information Center (aka—the U.S. Cultural Institute) and I was able to meet with the administrative director. I was lucky enough to have been able to get the director’s name at the U.S. Embassy—but it was a little more difficult than I imagined. The best part was that they were so welcoming once I was inside the center, although I had to give them my passport to hold and me escorted at all times—a lot of precautions. I got a lot of materials from the director for my courses and many contacts for the work I’m doing in terms of the Monkole Hospital expansion program.

The best part of the trip was that I was able to go shopping for some fabric that I will be able to use to make the special dresses they wear here!

I also finally got to walk on the street like normal, of course someone was with me, but people wouldn’t stop and stare like they do in my neighborhood because I’m such a rare sight—there were other people there from different countries. It’s almost surreal when you see people from the Jordanian army in uniform because this is their mission, or UN personnel from all over, in their official cars because this is the conflict region they have been sent to. Ironically I saw most of these people in the huge super market across the street from the US Embassy, where I finally got some hairspray (I didn’t think I would need it and then I didn’t think it would be that difficult to find if I did need it—I forgot about the hair we are dealing with here J).

Mfuti!

So…I swam in the Congo River!!!! It was amazing…really breathtaking! We went on Sunday!

It was the birthday of the administrative director of the school—Esses who is a Nigerian doctor and came here about two years ago. She was so nice to invite all the different people that work in ISSI and Carolina and I got to go.

We went to a place called Mfuti. It’s about 1 hour and a half-ish from where I live, and they came and picked us up in a large 4-wheeler jeep. If the roads were actually in good condition it would probably only take half the time, but there was a reason we got driven in a jeep.

About 45min into the trip we turned into dirt roads that were very 4-wheeling worthy. At one point the car was at about a 30-degree angle towards the left and I thanked God we made it through that stretch—unfortunately the worst was not over. We had many similar, even worse stretches where the road was so narrow and tilted that the mud-dirt walls on the sides of the road actually helped us not tip over.

But it was all worth it when we started descending from the hills and we saw the majestic Congo River!! On the other side of it was Congo-Brazaville, as it’s called here, or the Republic of the Congo. We got to a very pleasant flat area where a stream came to join the river and made a bay and the sand was almost white—it was like paradise!

Carolina and I decided to swim to the other side of the bay since some of the people that had been there before mentioned that it would be ok. (Picture of the water with the white beach on the other side is the distance we swam.) When we got to the other side a flock of people that lived in the village near by came to greet us. They barely spoke any French and started speaking in Lingala—the language of that region. We were able to make some conversation—they were amazed that we had made it there. Normally, people here don’t know how to swim very well.

We made our way back to our friends on the other side and some of the girls that we had spoken to followed us over in a pirogue. (The picture with the little girls and Carolina is one where we are sitting in a pirogue.) After some negotiations one of my colleagues got us to go on a tour in the pirogue as part of Esse’s birthday present.

Once we came back a “papa”—what everyone here refers to as a man, its so cute!—came in his pirogue and started telling us that we had to be careful “faire attentions!” there were crocodiles in the water!! When I heard that my heart skipped a beat and Carolina’s face showed it all—we had been sooooo lucky and our inexperience was the only reason why we had crossed the bay—no wonder they were soo amazed! And on top of that when we got back in the water the current really picked up, we would have floated away had it been that strong when we were swimming back---oh what a day full of adventure!

(The last pictures are of all the boys and girls that would come to our cars as we drove back through the villages shouting mundele, mundele and demanding something. We ended up giving them the left over treats we had from the birthday.)

Daily Life Begins!

It’s a bit long, but this is my usual daily routine:

So, my day usually begins around 6, a little before. I get dressed—but I get to put on a maid outfit. J The first thing we do in the morning is clean the residence where we live. I get do clean the living room, study room, and the living room with one of the nursing students. I honestly love it. It’s a wonderful way to start the day, opening the windows and cleaning the rooms. I get to make sure the beautiful residence I’m staying in gets taken care of. It’s a little oasis in the middle of the poor rural-urban neighborhood it’s in. I have my own bathroom with potable running water! That truly shows you how majestic it is! It makes you feel at home knowing that every morning (except Sundays J) everyone you live with is cleaning some area in the residences to ensure its stays nice.

Ok, so at 7:30 we have breakfast together and then we are off at 8. It’s an early morning, but I’m beginning to get used to it.

I help Carolina with her French from 8-10 and then we head off to ISSI so we can prepare for our courses. I prepare for my classes until about 1ish and then have lunch with some of the doctors that work at Monkole and the director of ISSI.

Then from 2ish to 4ish I help with some of the development projects that the Monkole hospital initiative is working on. This hasn’t become quite concrete because I’m supposed to have had a meeting with the administrative director he hasn’t come. I have come to learn the African way of life. J Things march at their own rhythm here and you just have to have patience and wait. I will have another entry on this subject when I know more.

Then until 5ish I prepare the last minute details of my class for the day. From 5 to 7ish is the class—Tues and Thurs are English (about 35ish students for now, but divided into 2 levels, one level a day) and Wed and Fris are Spanish (much better size—about 10, so all can come both days). This week was chaotic because I had to give a placement exam and Monkele Hospital sent us a list yesterday of 70 other people that were interested in the classes. The Hospital is covering half the payment of the class if the person attends regularly—they are considering it part of their professional formation. Lets see how many I have next week!!!

Then 7:15ish is dinner with everyone. From there we normally help pick-up and then around 8:15 we all get to sit in the living room and chat about the day or watch the news or a movie. After that I finally have some free time, although by 10 I’m already out. J

Oh and Saturday mornings I teach the nursing students at ISSI from 8-12pm (2hrs of Spanish and 2hrs of English).

It’s pretty packed but there are a few free spaces here and there. I love it though, my students are hilarious and there is not one class that isn’t interesting! I only speak in the language I’m teaching and it was so funny to see all their worried faces this week—by the end of the first class they were relieved to find out that they could still understand my if they just relaxed and also took gestures into account. I have doctors, and technicians, pharmacists and receptionists, and even one of the maids that helps at the residence. J I have people from all walks of life walking into my classroom!

And it finally hits...

I think today I finally realized how little help I can provide in the end of it all. I came to Kinshasa primarily to learn, that I already knew. But I also wanted to help—or in some way empower those that I will be teaching. I found out today that some of the students that live in the residence with me won’t be able to take my course because they can’t pay the small amount the Institute (ISSI—more info on the left panel) is asking for. I know that ISSI is asking for something reasonable and are not making any profit, but I felt so bad when a few of the girls told me they wouldn’t with a look of disappointment. Here I was and some of the girls living with me couldn’t learn the materials I had brought to teach. I talked to one of the directors in charge of residence and she told me the frank truth I needed to hear—I can’t put the weight of the world on my shoulders. True—I could do no more...instead I suggested that maybe one of the evenings we could have an open practice time were I could be available for those needing help with their homework and to practice with those that couldn’t come to the courses. She said that would be a good idea—and at least that was resolved for the moment.

And finally…I went on my walk today with Carolina (the other Spanish girl living in the residence who is giving classes on child birth to the nursing students) around the neighborhood and just five minutes into the walk I saw a child be run over by a car. At first I think I was in shock, but then I realized it was real. People started gathering to see what had happened and people started running towards the hospital (luckily it was right there—Monkele—next to the school were I’m teaching--the pic is the new hospital they are building, more on it later). I felt so helpless because I knew I could do nothing and that if I went to talk to them I would probably only agitate them more seeing as I was a foreigner with no tools to aide.

There are very wise women who are in charge at the residence where I live—they have come to learn what it means to help, but at the same time what it means to survive as a person. Tomorrow I begin my courses in spite of the day. At least today gave me a rejuvenation for preparing as much as possible to be able to teach as much as possible through the means I have to help—my courses.

Kisantu!!!!

Yesterday we went to the botanical gardens of Kinsantu. It took about 3 hours to get there on our bus and the scenery is beautiful! Getting there was a lot of fun…amazing how the cars here function, they pile up sooo much stuff and somehow it still manages to work. Even through the dirt roads where pavement seizes to exist. J On se debrouille! Here, they make it work, no matter what; there is always ingenuity—something we have begun to loose in the ‘western’ world.

The ride there with the scenery and singing from everyone was wonderful; there is so much life and it’s always non-stop laughter.

In the botanical gardens I finally saw other people that weren’t Congolese or working were I am. It’s so rare to see foreigners in my neighborhood that I was almost shocked. And even better, some of the foreigners we saw later on in the garden were Chinese. A lot of Chinese have come here for the precious minerals the DRC provides. There is currently an agreement with the Chinese and DRC governments—in exchange for the Chinese fixing all the roads (really its starting from scratch because of the conditions they are in) the Congolese government will allow them access to the minerals found here. A sad arrangement knowing how much more the Chinese are gaining. One only hopes that the maintenance of the roads built will be kept up, because that in the end will be the problem.

I promise more pics, but the uploading here takes forever!! I have to figure out another system.

Good Morning

Mudele, mudele—what I get called on the streets. I finally took a walk around my neighborhood today. The streets are just sand filled with a lot of trash and once you turn the corner there is noooo way of blending in. J But I knew that already…it’s amazing though…everyone stares or at least says Bonjour—the best is when they try and speak English—somehow Good Morning is what everyone knows, even at 6 in the evening.

I promised to keep it short…so I’ll just follow with a pic of the neighborhood. More pics to follow of the new hospital the program I’m working with is building and a baby I made cry… the first baby ever that I freighted.

It begins!

The pics are what I see from my bedroom window.

I promise I will keep the next one’s shorter—but the first one always has to be longer!

Well…let’s just say that the start of my trip did not go as smoothly as planned. J I got this false security in me that at least if I had all my bases covered before the trip then at least I had done all I could to prevent anything from going wrong once I arrived.

While packing up all my last minute things in Paris the night before I left I remembered I had to take my malaria medicine before I left…I reached to the front pocket where I had left it to remind myself and much to my surprise…it was gone.

This is something that I would have expected once I arrived—not in Paris. It must have happened in the wee hours of the morning when I had arrived and was changing my money…oh well. A few moments of a freak out, but then wise words from my uncle and parents put me to sleep.

I got the prescription e-mailed to me and once I checked in (didn’t get charged for overweight!!!!—for all those who know how much I worry about that) I went to the pharmacy and the pharmacist didn’t even need to see my prescription--got the medicine without a fuss!

Two of my battles had been won for the day…but I knew that my greatest battle of all was what awaited me in N’jili airport.

As we descended into Kinshasa I got a beautiful glimpse of the Congo River. I have to be honest…I had almost no fear during the flight. All I had to do was look across the aisle and see this Spanish looking man holding on to the seat with dear life any time there was a tiny bit of turbulence. He had the bases covered when it came to fear, I had nothing else to be frightened of.

Coming out into the heat you could say it hit me—but I kept a smile on my face and walked like I knew exactly where I was going. There were a massive amount of guards—which was expected…then the massive amount of handlers that await trying to get you to hire them so you can make it through passport control and baggage claim without a problem. I looked for no one and went straight into the line—“Expatriates.” With the amount of other non-Congolese that were there, I felt ok. I made it through the passport check with only a “Ca va?”—“Oui, merci. Et vous?”—“Ca va…” As I passed the doors to the baggage claim I was ready for anything…especially since I didn’t know who was picking me up…forgot that part. J But I went in and just kept walking like I knew where I was, then a sign with my name and a friendly face! Joelle was so happy to see me!! Three kisses in Kinshasa—not 2, not 1, but 3!

We got the luggage with a bit of pushing, shoving and marking our place—everything in perfect order and on we went to venture into more baggage handlers. Then Christian was waiting for us outside to drive us through the mayhem of Kinshasa—to my beautiful residence. More on that another time. J