I am aware that I appear to have developed a slight obsession with Congo, not just the school but the country as a whole. It's quite inexplicable really, since I didn't love it quite so much when I was there, and I remember well how things just don't work (two failed visa attempts attest to this.)
But I am not the only one to experience this curious attraction. I've heard plenty of stories of others who have passed through, some on artistic residencies, others in the field of research, all reporting a desire to return. We say the same thing- there is something about the energy, the ambiance, an electricity in the air that just isn't found elsewhere. Congo is alive. Perhaps the draw is real.
Certainly when I was living there, I remember the number of adults who'd returned to the country they'd grown up in as children. There was even the case of my neighbor who had come back after years away, only to take over her mother's job. And just now, a former student has completed college, married and set up shop, her husband having procured the former job of her mother. Oh, the crazy circles Congo inspires.
Aside from the country itself, and the amazing storms, there are fond memories of the work we did at the school. It was a time of growth and development and those kinds of building and creating memories always linger pleasantly.
I have been trying to dampen my constant references to the country, but it's a concentrated effort. Congo just seems to be everywhere. She supplies so many of the resources we require for 'modern times.' Whether it was rubber for tires or coltan for electronics, Congo has been there. Everything about her seems amplified, from the quality of music and art to the degree of suffering to the natural beauty of the environment.
Although I have been trying to censor my conversation (just a little bit, after all, the story of Congo is a story worth telling,) it just seems to come up. Everywhere. Yesterday we went to the National Parc with the intention of working on our project (with the added benefit of a place to play for Mbalia.) It also happens that exhibits from the Biennial, Rencontres de Bamako, were showing there.
After wrapping up our business plans, we took a walk through the display. We'd been enticed by the sound of a Congolese voice speaking Lingala. Inside, we were welcomed with a photography exhibit by Georges Senga, and just around the corner, a video on loop by Joseph Moura. The animated account of his experiences was both powerfully terrifying and a stunning piece of art.
I can't escape the Congo. Even if I were trying (harder) I think she is following me.
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| Captivating animated video telling Joseph Moura's provoking story 'because of my love for this country nothing would stop me...' |
