I've received my latest update from the United States Department of State Bureau of Consular Affairs. It is a lengthy caution about the risks of traveling as an American citizen. Apparently, many peoples of the world would like to do me in based upon my nationality. I receive many of these emails and texts messages from the American embassy here in Congo as well. They generally restate the fact that travel in and around Congo is dangerous. Some detail particular areas of heavy police presence or recent increase in robberies or other crimes against Westerners in a particular area. I find them akin to the evening news - only relating the very worst parts of life and rarely referring to the many positive aspects that occur more frequently.
For example, police in Kinshasa are the punch line to many a joke (shame-facedly I admit to laughing myself into tears during a recent teacher orientation exercise in which groups role-played traffic in Kin: police bribes, the infamous "third lane" complete with sirened, presidential motorcade and a dead pedestrian lying admist traffic that barely drove around him were all spotlights of the skits,) but one rarely hears about the danger they put themselves in every day trying to direct the horrendous, complex, fast, disrespectful-of-police-presence traffic. No one commends the excellent job they do diverting 6 lanes of traffic into 1 at the notorious crossroads of the Boulevard and Justice. And I am not sure how often anyone (besides me, who has become quite conscious of fashionware in Kin---always on the look out for sappeaurs and other fancy dressers) notices the incredibly HOT uniforms they wear (LONG sleeved dark blue shirts, long pants, combat type BOOTS...oh! and if they happen to be wearing their 'riot gear' that day---add in knee pads, elbow pads, helmet......) I have gotten good directions from the police in Kinshasa, exchanged friendly banter that had me smiling as I drove away, received assistance to enter into traffic and cross an otherwise impenetrable road....It's not all bad.
But the cautions from the Department of State serve a purpose. One is to cover themselves. I believe they are willing to rescue me from minor dangers and to help evacuate my person, should I need evacuating. And if they can't fulfill these duties (in the event of death or capture) at least they can say I was properly warned. Secondly, these message serve as a reminder to be aware of personal safety at all times.
Personal safety has been on my mind a lot. Just before leaving Kin on my visit to the US I had been feeling especially vulnerable and aware of how trips out didn't seem so spontaneous and free but calculated and worrisome. More specifically, trips in the car....I have generally felt safe on foot.
I've since determined I am in the middle. People often ask about the safety features when they hear I am living in Congo...or for those wishing to visit or new recruits to school. They wonder---Can you tavel about freely? How far out of the city can you go? What are the security risks?
It is difficult to answer questions like these because safety is a very personal issue. Everyone has a varying degree of risk that they feel comfortable with. It seems fair to say this risk is in constant fluxuation in countries like Congo depending upon recent events, personal experience and access or exposure to the various levels of rumor and gossip around town.
I've assigned myself to the risk group "middle" based on a global evaluation of basic human safety. We're all living with some kind of risk. Crime and hateful humans abound in every pocket of the world. Rural communities will always be "shocked at the heinous crime rocking this town" but they shouldn't be. They've just been living under a veil of complacency and delusion.
In the US, I gave virtually no thought to my personal safety. Some cats banging on the door in the night were the closest I came to feeling threatened. In Congo, I am aware of safety. It is something I consider nearly daily. The actual feeling of being threatened or in danger has really only occurred once or twice and the danger level was minimal....discomfort at most. Recent stories about Sanam Gul (also Bibi Sanam) a 47 year old widow who was accused of adultery (becoming pregnant) and then shot http://edition.cnn.com/2010/WORLD/asiapcf/08/09/afghanistan.woman.killed/index.html?hpt=T2#fbid=XddCd_mtOSq&wom=false
or the woman from Guerekindo, in Central African Republic, who watched her husband and five children get tied up and taken away http://www.hrw.org/en/news/2010/08/11/cardr-congo-lra-conducts-massive-abduction-campaign have made me realize in many parts of the world, people are living in incomprehensible states of fear and danger. My small apprehensions seem like grains of sand shaken from a toddler's shoes after a day at the playground. Annoying, bothersome but no great trouble to sweep up. Certainly not life changing.
Of course, the trickiest part of all of this is that shattering moments sneak up on us when we are least expecting them. They remind us that we can be powerless in the hands of others and ultimately in the hands of fate (or destiny, kharma, God's plan, whichever frame we are using to view the our world events.) So many stories from former child soldiers begin with idealic tales of life in the African countryside. They were walking home from school on a normal quiet day or playing with friends at the river when the unthinkable happened. The millions of women raped in the Congo begin their tale with ordinary days working in the garden, boiling water for meal preparation or washing clothes by the stream.
Occasionally, people know they are living in terror. Jonathan Kozol's book Savage Inequalities http://faculty.fordham.edu/kpking/classes/uege5102-pres-and-newmedia/Jonathan-Kozol-Savage-Inequalities-by-D-Beauford.pdf and others targeting inner city life in the US include stories about children diving onto their living room floors (which are cleared out because all of the furniture has been moved in front of the windows) to avoid stray bullets. Sometimes, this is not enough. Their bodies are found slumped beneath beds or fallen on basketball courts, victims of misplaced hate and violence. These same children live in apartments with unchecked plumbing and unpredicatble electricity or heat. Pockets of disturbing distress exist in all countries, in villages and cities, in homes, on street corners and in temporary (refugee) camps around the world.
These are the palces I am thinking of as I tell my boys, yes, it's ok to go out and ride your bike around campus. Even as we hail a taxi into town or walk down the hill to the vegetable market, I am aware, I am cautious and I am outraged. Worldwide caution perhaps, but living conditions for many remains unacceptable and inhuman. Where are my messages from the Department of State calling for worldwide action?
