Journals from Africa - DR Congo #1

1-17-10

Dear Friend,

No one can know what the DR Congo is like until you have been here. No words will describe what only eyes can see and no pictures will capture what only the five senses working together can make you feel. From the moment we stepped off the plane and into the airport in Kinshasa – chaos. We were ushered through immigration and wound up being led straight to the parking lot without talking to the officer in the boxed in office for VIP passport checks. We didn’t even pick up our bags. The immigration officer who was hired to help us told us he would return with our passports and our baggage. He led us to the car and Hyacinthe met us with his brother-in-law, Peter. We waited for a long time talking by the car while the immigration officer, or whatever he was, and John were in the airport taking care of unfinished business. When they returned with our stamped visas, the officer joked that there were no bags. I had been nervous about this all along so I thought he was serious and was thinking I was going to spend a very hot next few days in Congo. Fortunately, it was only a joke.

We left the airport and I soon realized the chaotic driving I had experienced in other countries was nothing compared to the reckless, disorganized driving in the Congo. I soon realized that you don’t know what “dog eat dog world” means until you come to a place like this. The roads are littered with piles of trash and the smell in many places is overwhelming. There are 8 million people in Kinshasa – a sea of faces. Cars and taxis come within inches and sometimes even graze the bodies of people running across the road or walking between cars or hanging out the side doors of small van taxis. I thought I had seen people packed in cars like sardines before….not until now. We drove by a bus that had to have way over 100 people on it – there was not a space of air to be had and the windows were even fogging up. The road in front of Hyacinthe’s home seems more like a dump trucks playground with unbelievable hills covered in garbage.

We visited the clinic today and had Sunday worship in an area of the hospital designated for church. The worship was beautiful – very Pentecostal J We prayed a lot and sang a lot and heard an amazing sermon on Jesus’ first miracle with a perspective on the verse that I had never heard before. They also had instrument shakers made from old bug killer aerosol cans.

The maternity ward at the clinic is fitted with only 10 beds and there is at least 2 women to each bed – sometimes four. There are two delivery beds side by side and sometimes they have to put a third woman who is delivering on the floor and deliver all three babies at the same time.

The people here do not smile. The first smiles I saw were at the church. The people had a much different attitude. Otherwise it’s difficult to get even little children to smile when you smile at them. I have found that the only people that smile back at me are children who are probably 7-14 years old.

I have more details and will write more later. I’m late for bed now.

Amani,
Bridget