The nights have become cool and crisp, blowing gentle breezes that make me reach for a sweater or some kind of light wrap. I could never really understand how Africa could be cold, though I'd heard many people suggest it. I guess you must live here to experience it. Of course, it is not the bone chilling, raw winter wind whipping across your cheeks kind of cold, but it is shiver inducing nonetheless.
As we came to the campus street, we paused to let a pizza delivery motorcycle go by. I thought for a minute how the world needs to know that you can get a pizza delivered in Congo. It is not the first image to come to mind when picturing DRC. We were on our way to pick up a school car, which we can use for a nominal fee. Generally, I have nowhere to go with my Kinshasa nights, but every Wednesday I do head up the road for a dance class. Its a short drive and causes me no concern. I have been known to walk occasionally, if I am sure I will have someone to walk back with.
It is travel out into the other areas of Kin that sometimes gives me pause. The city is gearing up for its Independence Day celebration on the 30th of June. I suppose the word independence could be debated in this case, as in many developing countries. There is talk of demonstrations to protest the perceived lack of independence and control and to express general displeasure of those in charge. The normal frustrations of traffic congestion will only be compounded by the expected disruption of a major celebration. I could say I am happy not to be in attendance, but the reality is I would probably spend the day locked behind the walls of TASOK, nothing ventured, nothing lost, nothing experienced.
It is something I miss a bit here- not taking part in local happenings that are a point of pride in other countries. My inbox is flooded with cautionary reminders about what to do if approached by armed robbers, areas of heavy police presence to avoid and other advice about how to navigate daily life. It reads like the evening news and must be considered a s such, I truly believe. It could be too easy to fall into a tainted view of things and begin believing that life here really is all and only bad and everyone is out to get you. Stay out of local taxis. I haven't yet had a bad experience in a taxi....though I suppose I have as much chance of that here as I do in NYC. But I am cautious about large gatherings, have promised not to go into an African stadium and think twice when approaching intersections laden with police. Since the boot, I have only once been summoned to the side of the road....an order which I pretended to heed before quickly driving off.
I hate the fear- however fleeting- I feel and the caution with which I consider every outing. No action is taken quickly or without care. If I want to go somewhere, I inevitably spend a moment considering the possibilities. While I understand every day holds the potential for an innumerable amount of things to become life changing (in a positive or negative way) it was never something I thought consciously about before. This naturally leads me to thoughts of women in the villages who went out only to find food or gather firewood or work in their gardens. These women who ended up losing houses, husbands and sons. These women who, one bright sunny day, were whistling or singing even, thinking of the evening meal they would prepare when suddenly their lives are ripped out from them as they are raped or beaten for an unknown cause. I think about these women almost daily because they are living their lives right here, where I am living my life, under the same sun and stars. The breeze that cools me has blown across their backs as well. I feel at once both so far and helpless and too close and connected.
It is thoughts like these that occupy my mind as I drive about Kinshasa. And upon my return to school, there comes a fork in the road. I prefer to take the right- it leads to a less congested, more scenic route. The isolation, darkness and tranquility have all been given to me as reasons to avoid this road- anything could easily happen here with little help available. What's the state of the country today? I've been known to ask my passengers, or even myself if travelling alone. It's become a daily question as I approach this fork- one now presented with a bit of humor, but perhaps with more seriousness as MONUC turns into MONUSCO and Congo approaches her own elections next year. Happily, I can say I frequently take the right road....the state of the union is holding her own right now..kind of a Congolese status quo.
