World weary and enjoying a Katangan beer upon our arrival

I have to tell you about a rather unpredictable incident that happened to me this past week. The funny thing I’ve noticed about this place is that things only work out when you least expect them to. And when you expect something to be orderly and normal, it can be a bit of a rude awakening.

So, as we were leaving Kinshasa, we left for the airport extra early in case we ran into traffic. The trouble began as soon as we stepped out of the car. It was pure chaos. We walk in to the terminal and there’s a neatly lined up row of extra-large suitcases leading to the check-in counter, and all the people were sitting in the surrounding chairs. So, after paying our departure tax at the bank (which, by the way, was a nightmare in itself because we had to let some VIP fat cat in line ahead of us because, clearly, he is very important) we bring our suitcases to the back of the suitcase line and stand with them. But, after half an hour, two other lines start forming on either side of us, which was rather alarming. And then this big lady in colourful dress sidles up to us, pushes our suitcases out of the way and places hers where ours were. It felt rather a violation!

Eventually, we decide to join one of the human lines and leave the suitcase line behind. An airport employee sets up a barrier in front of our line and it looks like check-in is about to begin. Then, out of nowhere, a dozen people appear beyond the barrier and start their check-in. Why, do you ask? Well, we assumed that they were first class passengers, and decided to be patient. But the group of people ‘on the inside’ kept growing and growing and, despite the fact that we were at the front of the line, we were still outside. When the big lady in the colourful dress (who was 10 people behind us) suddenly appeared in the inside area as well, I started to lose my cool. But being a demanding and entitled white girl doesn’t really fly in Congo, so we waited another 20 minutes all the same. Apparently, if you’re unwilling to pay the airport staff a bribe, you have to wait. I couldn’t help thinking that if anyone on my Swiss side of the family or my uncle Harold had been there, we’d have had an aneurism on our hands!

Oh, but once we were on the inside is when the horror really began. Everyone, including our friend in the colourful dress, was stacked up en masse around one airport employee, who was proceeding to empty the contents of every single bag. I thought to myself, well, hm, we are pretty trusting of our x-ray machines in the West, why do they not suffice in Congo? Apparently that rather advanced technology is just not up to snuff.

So during another hour of waiting for our bags to be inspected, we made some friends. It was necessary, because people kept butting ahead of us in “line” so we started a human blockade. One of our friends was this really chilled out Brazilian pastor. Didn’t speak a word of French (and not much English either) but he was lovely and good-humoured. He seemed to be able to make the most out of any situation, including the one we’d found ourselves in. Our other friend was a Congolese gentleman in the diamond mining business. He was on his way back from visiting one of his artisanal diamond mines in the Kasaïs. Interesting guy, but I reckon he had some shady dealings under his belt.

When we finally got to the checkout counter, two ladies were pouring over one computer, trying to figure out our itinerary. Eventually a haughty South African Airlines employee barged in (we were already an hour and a half delayed, after all) and told them they were moving too slowly, so he took over. From there, it was pretty much smooth sailing until we got on the plane.

We sit down, take our sleeping pills and get ready for an eventless flight to Johannesburg. But then there’s a flight attendant at the row in front of us with smoke coming out of her ears at a woman who is unwilling to vacate an exit row seat because they require an English speaker to be there. It was none other than the line-butting lady in the brightly coloured dress! The South African flight attendant finally lost it on her and yelled “Madame, we will not leave Kinshasa until you MOVE!” And so she did.

Kinshasa, you are a beautiful, dynamic city, but I will avoid flying out of your airport at all costs from now on!

Sunset from my hotel

My first aerial impression of Kinshasa was of darkness. No, I’m not referring to the Heart of Darkness cliché; quite literally, the whole city was dark. Small glowing lights floated around like boats at sea, but they didn’t seem like they could illuminate a house or, indeed, a city centre. Apparently, there is not electricity to supply the whole grid, so the different neighbourhoods have to trade off nights when they’ll have power. Later, when I was in the taxi on the way to my hotel, I observed joy. It was 9pm but people were out on their stoops, chatting and laughing, in the dark.  It was a real party. There’s no such thing as crosswalks in Kinshasa. People just bob their way through four-lane highways at their own peril. But I noticed that the driver anticipated the seeming unpredictability of these kamikaze pedestrians. So it all seemed to flow quite well.

My arrival here in Congo pretty much took place in a fog; after nearly 48 hours in transit, it was hard for me to figure out which planet I was on. But this morning, when I felt more like a person again, I got to see the city in daylight in all its glory. Kinshasa has apparently come a long way in the past four years, thanks in part to a massive infrastructure project funded by the Chinese—in exchange, I believe, for nearly exclusive rights to lucrative mining and oil concessions, but don’t quote me on that. There are magnificent monuments and buildings, some of which are left over from the colonial era, and some which are more recent Chinese additions. I got to see a statue of Patrice Lumumba, the first Prime Minister and national hero. It was a real treat.

Things I have learned about Kinshasa so far:

• Pretty much anyone who is not Congolese here is carrying around massive amounts of cash, and yet robberies are very rare. Surprising, in one of the poorest countries in the world
• People here are drop-dead gorgeous and they really know how to dress
• Everyone I’ve met has been incredibly friendly, dynamic and helpful
• Congolese French is nothing like any French I’m used to. People speak so fast and with such a dramatic flair; there are so many figures of speech and metaphors. It’s almost as if the Congolese are actors and they crafted their lines beforehand in order to lend as much weight and profundity to their words as possible. I hope I can keep up
• I feel very looked after. It’s as if people seem to know how terribly their country is portrayed in the media, so they go to extra lengths to show another side to visitors.

That’s all for now! I’ll write again next week when we get to Katanga—another area of the country with a rich history. Revolution, secession, Patrice Lumumba’s assassination, and some of the largest concentration of copper mining in the world. I will be in awe!

xor

Hi,

So this is my first blog post ever. Just giving you that caveat. For the next couple of weeks I am going to write a bit about my travels to the Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC). I imagine it’s going to be an eye-opening and adventuresome time. I can tell because I haven’t even left North America and already I’ve had an odyssey of losing my oral vaccines, a bout of fake typhoid, and two Congolese visa applications being shepherded between Washington DC and rural Nova Scotia (only one of them was successful. and now Fedex is bullying us into paying $600 to deliver it the next day. Um, isn’t it their job to deliver things quickly and (relatively) affordably?!). And I haven’t even picked up my $8000 in cash, which I will have to hide on my person for several weeks–ANY SUGGESTIONS?!

But, pre-trip shenanigans aside, I am getting extremely excited about this, my first time to the DRC. If any of my readers know me, you’ll remember my ongoing obsession with this country. I am in love with the place and we haven’t even yet met properly. Can you imagine living in a country that has not seen peace in over twenty years (and prior to that, a state of “peace” is very much debatable)? The strength and resilience you must have and which must have been passed down to you from previous generations? One of my favourite authors on the Congo, Trefon Théodore, puts it this way: ” the people of Kinshasa … are reinventing order. The concept refers to the dynamic new forms of social organization that are constantly taking shape to compensate for the overwhelming failures of the post-colonial nation-state. It is a rapidly shifting process that enables people simply to carry on with life and get things done” (Trefon, Reinventing Order in the Congo, 2004). People just se débrouille–an expression coined in Kinshasa, which refers to making do, just getting by. I can’t wait to see this dynamism in action. Kinshasa is going to be an absolute trip.

And the mountains! I am going to be in the Albertine Rift, Africa’s largest area of uninterrupted forest….which, I might add, might not be around for much longer. I may even see some monkeys from my car window, though, unfortunately, I won’t make it to the lowland gorillas on this trip. This will be an unforgettable experience. I’ll take lots of pictures. Also from the window of my car (!)

So this is my medium to stay in touch with you all, dear readers. I’m not sure how reliable my internet will be, but when I can, I will write you some of my reflections on what I witness. I know I am travelling to one of the most troubled places in the world. I’m keeping my heart open to all the sadness and trauma that I will likely encounter in the people I meet. But I know I’ll be safe and protected. I think the things I will see will be unbelievable and beautiful and inspiring. It’s the trip of a lifetime.

Until next time,

r