Tempting Fate

Half of The Blvd from above. See the cars whizzing by! 

No one is safe. Pedestrians and drivers alike everyday are risking life and limb with a trip to work, the grocery store, or the vegetable lady. As far as I can tell there are only two rules whilst driving in Congo: 1) Vehicles entering a traffic circle have the right of way. Not those vehicles in the circle already. I am still unclear what this all means for the pedestrians milling about in the traffic circles.  2) If, when approaching an intersection, the police officer is facing you or has his back to you, it means stop. If the police officer is standing sideways, then you can continue on through the intersection at your leisure. What to do if the police officer is just like chilling and standing haphazardly, perhaps at a tilt, when approaching? Who knows! It's a crap shoot anyway.

So many bags. Oh, the one guy on the left is holding a monkey

Perhaps the only saving grace of many drivers and pedestrians everyday is that most side roads in Kinshasa are not in the best condition, so you cannot drive at high speeds. So even if there is no police officer at the intersection, which is often the case, the probability of a high speed crash is low-ish. I am sure the probability was lower before The Boulevard (Blvd 30 Juin, known locally as The Blvd) was redesigned into an eight-lane "superhighway." There are no stop lights and no stop signs. Just holding your breath, closing your eyes, and stepping on the gas. God help you if you want to turn left. Oh, there also is no middle lane for those attempting to turn into the other directional lanes or go straight across The Blvd; you can't cross the four lanes and then wait in the middle (what in America one might affectionately call a "turn lane") to cross the other four lanes or make the turn without drawing the ire of other drivers, pedestrians, and the police officers aimlessly scattered up and down The Blvd.  These groups of people get angry when a vehicle stops in the middle. Other drivers will honk at you, pedestrians will stare evilly, and the cops will gesture at you to get moving. I get overwhelmed! 

I try to follow the two driving rules I know in Congo. I have made mistakes, some unknowingly. For example, one time I wanted to turn left. I put on my turn signal to move into the farthest left lane, moved into the lane. I then put on my turn signal again to make the left turn. I waited as vehicles were coming the other direction. Apparently, I did something terribly wrong and a police officer started yelling at me (I did not lower my window because things can be rather unpredictable here). The cop then filled her cop friend in on the heinous crime I just unknowingly committed. The new cop, in the good cop role, is calmly scolding me, while the original cop seriously gave me a, "Bitch, please," look and shook her head and finger at me. I still do not know what traffic law I broke. I suppose it will remain a mystery. 

Yes, that's a child in the trunk. A trunk baby.

Another mystery is why pedestrians attempt to cross the eight lanes of The Blvd at a leisurely pace. There are crosswalks, no lights or signs, but there are painted white lines! As a driver, one must pay close attention to the cars around you (keep in mind there are over 10 million people in Kinshasa and one main downtown road) and the pedestrians (keep in mind there are over 10 million people in Kinshasa most of whom do not have a car). The Congolese pedestrian is fearless. They will walk across the eight-lane Blvd without even looking. Boldly stepping into traffic, knowing the cars will stop. Or not. This is Congo, where I have witnessed someone in the far right lane make a left turn across three lanes without using a turn signal. It's also where I have seen a taxi van holding 30 people, a goat, and four chickens with no front windshield. I am going to avoid being a pedestrian and stick with driving where I estimate my chances for survival are better. After all, I do not want to have a post describing Congolese emergency medical care. 

The Motherland

We really do have the best country!
-D.H., driving from Honolulu to the North Shore (2008)

Honolulu from Diamond Head

I love Africa, I love traveling. I love learning and experiencing different cultures and customs. I love all that goes into the observation of another society as an outsider. And then I love going back to America. I will never be one of those people that "go native." No risk there. I will never turn up my nose to fast food or chain restaurants or the culture of excess. In fact, I am generally skeptical of people who don't like McDonald's because, let's face it (and really be honest with yourself here): McDonald's is good. It is bad for you and of course it should not be part of your regular diet, but no one does fries like that! I want an aisle in the supermarket solely devoted to peanut butter. Every time I go to Target it is like Christmas morning. I like that no matter how screwed up the US government is, it is not really relative to most of the rest of the world. I like that anyone can rant and rave about the government and the politicians that comprise it and threaten to move to Canada (but then don't). And I like football. Not soccer.

The C.B's in Washington DC, the capital of our great nation.

There's nothing like an extended stay in another country to make me appreciate America. I still have a long time to go in Congo, so just imagine how patriotic I will be then!

The Bend in the River

Nobody's going anywhere. We're all going to Hell and every man knows that in his bones. We're being killed. Nothing has any meaning. That is why everyone is so frantic. Everyone wants to make his money and run away. But where? That is what is driving people mad.

--V.S. Naipaul, A Bend in the River (1979)

A couple weeks ago I took a trip to Kisangani: provincial capital of Orientale Province, the farthest navigable upstream point of the Congo river, scene of the some of the bloodiest fighting during the 1998-2003 Congo war, and a key commercial center in Congo. The city is an interesting contrast to Kinshasa for obvious reasons: it's much smaller. Kinshasa is home to between 10-11 million people. Kisangani's population is about 500,000. There is less traffic, less restaurants, less stuff in Kisangani. There also is less infrastructure development happening in Kisangani. Kinshasa is still decaying, don't get me wrong, but a lot has been happening here in the past four years.


In my mind at least, one can easily see what Kisangani once was: a prosperous Belgian-designed trade town that sits like an island in the middle of the world's 2nd largest rain forest. There are beautiful houses and buildings--long neglected--on the banks of the river. If there ever was beauty in Kinshasa, it's hard to see because the city has surpassed it's capacity. It is brimming with a massive population that it was never designed to support. It was therefore more poignant for me to see 'what was' in Kisangani. Sure, there's poverty and daily struggles for basic needs with little to no attention from the Congolese government in both places. It just seems more personal in Kisangani. The big city disguises it better perhaps.


Kisangani was on my list of places to go before I die (seriously), so I can check it off. And boy do I love checking things off lists. I enjoyed my short time there even though I ate goat. I don't like goat. I have never liked goat. Not when I was first served it in some random town in southeastern Senegal in 2002. Not now. Goats are cute. I do like their cheese though. 

One Month In...

I waited a bit over a month to actually publish a post here. I didn't want to confuse anyone with my excitement of moving here to Kinshasa, Democratic Republic of the Congo and then get all complain-y.  I am still me after all! I am happy I made the decision to take the job here for two years; I love Congo. (Not as much as I love my dog Izzy, but more than all other countries (except 'Merica) and more than US Weekly. For some perspective.) Although I have traveled to Congo many times in the past five years,  I think living here will give me a different perspective and hopefully the opportunity to travel the country and actually have conversations with others who live here. (Maybe even actual Congolese!) I am settling in: I like my apartment and the Embassy community has been very nice and generous. I have my car. It's kind of a joke, but I guess even Americans (i.e. the woman I bought the car from) get all cheap and corrupt when they live here. It definitely is a survival of the fittest mentality. That's for sure. But I guess when you don't know what tomorrow will bring, that's the way to roll. Well, I will leave with some notables, but I plan to make this blog a way to efficiently stay in touch with family and friends, while getting on my pedestal about Congo stuff (since this probably is the least offensive way for me to do that because it will have few readers). I might post pictures of things I bake too, just to add to the random-ness.


For now, some notables:

• I hate bugs. HATE BUGS! I thought I really hated mosquitoes. Then I met the biting black fly. Those little monsters land on you in herds, bite you--each leaving a trail of blood in their wake--and if that is not enough, hours later a giant, itchy, red bump swells at the location of each bite. It's ridiculousness. Like this country, with all it's poverty and diseases (Ebola, anyone?) and rebels need biting black flies too? 

• Sleeping here is difficult. I don't know what it is, maybe the weird rotation of the Earth right at the Equator makes sleeping difficult? I used to think when I just visited here that it was jet lag. It's not. I wake up, without fail, at least once a night. Usually between 1:30 and 3:00am. I am hoping once I actually get my cozy down comforter (my apt is thoroughly air conditioned) that the sleeping will improve. Embassy-issued blankets are not up to par and are scratchy against my delicate, porcelain skin. 

• Grocery shopping is interesting. One can definitely survive on the local market. A lot of things are just fine. Example: tons of fruit! pineapples, papayas, mangoes, watermelons, passion fruit. The list goes on. And it's not terribly expensive, although the vegetable stand lady totally up-charges the 'mundele.' There is a grocery store that has good chicken. Yay. But baking soda? Vanilla extract? Chocolate chips? Forget it. I can live without those things because there is Netgrocer and parents that will send them. PS-Send Oreos, specifically the Halloween ones that are sure to be coming out soon-ish!

• I don't like AFN (Armed Forces Network). I hear it will grow on me. I am not convinced. Is "Gary Not Married" and "Deal or No Deal" really the quality programming that AFN wants to expose to emotionally-fragile Americans living overseas, some of whom are in war zones?  I realize I should be thankful that I have any TV at all and there are people in the world that blah blah blah.

And to end on a positive...thanks to my family, friends, and internet shopping for easing the adjustment period with lovely packages and emails!


Some teasers for upcoming posts: Kisangani, Patriotism, and My Own Stupidity