Events conspired in such a way that this rainy Saturday had me seeking out the bus provided by the school to do some grocery shopping around town. Usually I am too busy with exercise classes, catching up on sleep or ferrying Mohamed around to take advantage of the cheap transportation to any part of the city desired by the riders. Usually I am loathe to give up my entire Saturday morning for this all encompassing tour. Rain, empty cupboards and a cancelled cardio class provided the perfect synchronicity of events to make the bus ride seem like a pleasant way to spend the morning.
And so it was I found myself at 9:00 am under gray skies and chilly rain talking to the bus driver, who inquired- ever so directly I might point out- whether or not he might have or purchase one of the boys bikes for his young son. You know, sometime around June. When I am leaving. Which he didn't say but was directly implied by his repetition of "sometime in June."
My response to confusion and surprise is always endless chatter, which I began immediately of course, describing how often the blasted bikes seem to break down, lose air, suffer from disconnecting chains and malfunctioning brakes. I never had such problems in the States but something about a bike in Congo seems to equal an endless tombler en panne. I even went on to describe our summer trip to a bike repair shop here in Kin- the amazing 300+ bikes adorning every square inch of the mechanics work space.
In my mind however, a thousand different questions are rolling around. Bikes are available by the plenty in Kin, why does he want mine? And how the hell does he know I am leaving? Really. It's an uncomfortable situation once word is out that you won't be around for the next year. I have heard so many stories of people coming right out to ask for things....all the material goods one might have acquired over the years. And even worse, people who suggest they might come browsing your house to see what you have just in case something might be interesting. While it has become some kind of tradition that leaving teachers sell or give away much of their stuff, I was mostly stuck back at the other questions. Who sent out the news that I was leaving?
It shouldn't really have been surprising, as the atelier and guards often seem to know as much- or more- about what goes on behind the scenes here on campus, but it's still eerie. The fishbowl effect was something that definitely took adjusting to the first year or so. Housekeepers, nannies, and guards all seem to have an inner eye and ear in the houses they work at. And it is clear they talk. But it is unsettling when you get actual proof that someone has been talking about you. It's happened a few times in conversation when something which I thought were perhaps private has been revealed in a conversation- leading me to understand without doubt that people were talking about me. People I know by name only, or some even by sight only. People who know my name, address, when someone visits, when they leave, how often I have company, all of the mundane facts about a daily life and it's routines- or oddities. Disturbing. I have always detested the campus grapevine but normally I don't have enough social contact with anyone to actually know what is getting passed around. Because of my distance I naturally- and erroneously-believed it rarely had to do with me.
Luckily, we've collected very few items of want and so the tidal wave of desires for our possessions is sure to be kept at a minimum. But another conversation about leaving has also got me wondering.
A local hire teacher, Congolese born but now a citizen of another country, told me she was leaving. Apparently something to do with the new taxes that would be withheld from her pay- a staggering amount she felt. I couldn't help but agree. It's one thing to pay taxes if you can see where they are going and benefit from the payment. But to pay taxes and still return to a house that is frequently without electricity, has no running water more often than has seems grossly unjust. In talking of future plans, however, she mentioned her desire to stay in Kinshasa but perhaps with a different company.
"Won't you still have to pay taxes?" I inquired, uncertain what difference the change would make in finances.
"Normally the company will pay," she informed me, going to elaborate on the details. It seems that a logical solution in her mind was that the school should impose a tax on the families, which would then be used to offset the amount paid by each local hire, effectively making them exempt form paying the tax with their own money. Apparently this is how other businesses operate. They pay the fees sheltering their employees from the cost.
Which got me thinking. Wasn't an unfair taxation system one of the major causes of the American Revolution? The fight for freedom and liberation was spurred by an unjust taxation of people who did not directly benefit from paying the fees. While I feel the pain of losing money without benefit, I simply cannot wrap my mind around the solution. It seems if more people felt the pain, they might collectively unite to demand improvements in the quality of life. I still cannot come to terms with the number of people who live without electricity and running water. I continue to grapple with the enormity of the problem and the frustrating lack of progress in this area. I understand that change will not come about until the people demand it, but I cannot understand what is preventing this. Why don't the citizens demand of their government equal access to basic needs? What is holding the revolution back?
Loopholes, apparently. Rather than expect the government to provide a basic level of services, the expectation has become that the employers will offset the unfair tax. Misguided energy in my American mind. I'm still waiting for the anger and rage to take over. To be focused at systems and policies, rather than institutions. Maybe life in the fishbowl has given me a distorted view of things. But history seems to have proven that until the people collectively recognize injustice and their power to demand resolution from their government leaders, positive change is unlikely to occur.
