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.)