Kinshasa in the Time Machine

Well now that it is the end of March I thought it'd be a good time to write about a trip I did in the beginning of January... better late than never. That is what "they" say right? Ok, moving on.

So I currently work in Lubumbashi, which is the very southeast part of DRC. Our base here, however falls into the 'West DRC' program so while we have a couple of pilots and planes here we also have other teammates within our program serving in Kinshasa, which is over 1500 kms away. Every year the program has what we call a Family Conference. It is a time where we stop working and spend a week together, families included, and just enjoy a time of fellowship, learning and activities. So I got to travel to Kinshasa for this conference in January and get to meet the rest of my MAF team members, who I had not met yet. It was fun to meet everyone and their families and see what life was like for them in Kinshasa, which is a huge city and can be very tense and chaotic at times. For the conference they brought a small team from the USA to lead us in a Bible study and music, which was very good. It was nice to be led by Americans to have taste of church from back home. We also did some other recreational activities around the city. Swimming. Softball. Visiting a lake and bonobos sanctuary. Good food and games. The conference was great to attend and it was great to spend time with others serving in the same way as me.

The other thing that I have to mention about this trip was that is was a kind of homecoming for me. I spent 4 years of my childhood (ages 4-8) in Kinshasa and I had not been back there since my family was evacuated from DRC 18 years ago. So I was quite excited to return to this place where I had created some memories as a kid. I wasn't sure how much I would remember because I was young when I left and it had been a long time since then, but I was surprised as some memories flooded back. The conference was held at The American School of Kinshasa (TASOK), where I attended school for K-2nd grades. It was surreal to walk around the campus and remember so many memories.

The steps where I stood when I had my picture taken on my first day of school ever. The concrete block where I vividly remember being delirious with a fever and laying down and watching ants crawl across the ground before I puked all over. The bamboo trees where I used to find ladybugs during recess. The playground I slipped and cut my chin open. The tennis courts where my parents used to play. The cubbie boxes in my kindergarten classroom. The soccer fields where I watched my brothers play. The pool with the diving bored and slide that my and my brothers and sister spent hours playing. The softball field where I was dubbed "Le petit Americain". The field with the huge trees where my dad used to fly his remote control airplane around. The jungle path we walked through to get to the houses on the bottom campus. The circular driveway where we did our halloween parade.

There were just tons of more memories that would just come to me as I walked around. Things I would have never thought of again if I hadn't visited. I also got stay with one of the MAF families living in Kinshasa that happened to be living in my old house. Again it was another surreal experience. Seeing the house where I grew up and played. My old room where my bunk bed used to be. The living room where we watched videos sent from relatives in the USA. Where we celebrated Christmas. The kitchen where I sat on the counter looking through catalogs circling the things I might want for Christmas. The yard with the banana trees and the small hill where we would ride our bikes down. The place where our trampoline had been, but was not sadly filled in. The old swingset. The backyard patio where my Mark and Kris blew things up with gunpowder. Just walking down the street and around the neighborhood where me and my brothers and the other missionary kids spent hours of our lives playing and exploring the depths of our imagination. I even saw the street down road from my house, which used to be in a reoccurring nightmare I had as a child. So many things that had been forgotten with time. Beautiful trip and beautiful memories.

Africa is Ginormous

I heard a comment the other day relating to the size of Africa. It reminded me of this map I saw awhile back that shows how big Africa is in comparison to some of the world's larger countries. Africa is a big place!

Remembrance

This day of the year is often characterized as a solemn day for me. It was 4 years ago this day my mother passed away after a long struggle with a neurological disorder. Definitely the most difficult thing I have had to go through in my life so far. It was hard to see someone I cherished so much go through what she did. I was blessed to have had her as a mother and I look forward to the day when I will be able to embrace her once again.

In the last few months there has been several people around me as well that have lost ones they loved. I just want to recognize those people because they are just as important as my mother.

A national worker I work with everyday here lost his mother.

A friend from college lost his father.

My pastor here lost his mother.

My house helper here has lost a relative.

The president of DRC has lost a couple relatives.

An MAF pilot in Indonesia has passed and left behind a wife and child.

I lost a new Congolese friend, Josue, who was even a closer friend to my roommate.

I am sure there are others that I have forgotten or not heard of and their lives were just has precious as the rest. It is sad to see people go, but it is great to remember the time spent with them and the impact they made in your life. Love you Mom!

No Seatbelt

They say you haven't really been initiated into the Congo until you've been pulled over by the traffic police here. It took me 3 and a half months but I am finally apart of the club!

The traffic police here in Lubumbashi can be very humorous and very annoying at the same time. It is not what you think if you come from the US. There are no police cars that pull you over with lights and sirens. No. The traffic police here stand in groups of 2-4 on the side of the road in their bright yellow uniforms and whistles (no guns, just whistles). They often will walk into the road and block the path of oncoming cars so they can do an inspection of documents and vehicle safety. It seems like we get pulled over by about once a week in our work van. Luckily I am never driving so I don't have to deal with these individuals. That was up until a couple weeks ago.

I have helping every once in awhile on a project my roommate is working on. They are working on taking homeless/abandoned kids off the street and giving them shelter and education. They are some building projects that are going for the project and this day I was driving a out to the project to do some painting. As we're driving out there a team of traffic police step in the road to pull us over. I recognize the main police guy because he has pulled our work van over several times. After giving me a good stare down for about 15 seconds he asks for my drivers license. That is good so he has nothing on me there. Then he asks for all the paperwork for the car. That is all in order so he has got nothing on me there. He then asks for something which I couldn't understand because it was I word I didn't know in french. He then proceeds to try and pull over another car so he can show me what it is. I finally figure out he is looking for our fire extinguisher (which is required in every vehicle). We have that so no infraction there. He then finds that one of the side mirror is cracked and that I am not wearing a seat belt because it is broken. Well now he has got something on me. $50 infraction and trip to the police station he says. Going to the police station is never a good thing so I try talking more with him. He doesn't seem very satisfied with my french and then begins talking with my boss' daughter, who speaks a little Lingala (language spoken mostly in another part of DRC) and he can communicate better with her. We finally get bailed out by a friend who comes to our rescue and is able to work out the problem by paying an $11 fine. That was a waste of an hour and again the officer says something insulting, which I didn't quite understand as I leave. I'm doing a great job of insulting all the authorities here. Haha.

These are some of the people here that it is hard to love sometimes. These men that are born into a system of greed and corruption who stop me because I look like an easy target to get money out of. I don't really know anything about these guys, whether they are just doing what they have to help their family survive or what. And even though it is hard to do the work I came here to do with distractions and headaches like these, these situations remind me of the reality of the country and there is need here and plenty of opportunities to show people love.

Beep Beep Beep

I've had some unfortunate experiences with the authorities and traffic laws lately. Here is my first story.

I had just come back from a flight with work and headed straight to a Christmas party. It was a good time and then some of decide to head back to my house to watch the big soccer game. I first had to drop off some friends who teach at the Belgium school here. After dropping them off I head home. The president of DRC has a house here in Lubumbashi, but he is currently living in the capital of Kinshasa. The street that passes his house in guarded on both sides by the military. My way home is via this street, which is not unusual because it is a main street in town. As I approach the last barricade two soldiers walk in the road and stop my car. Oh great. I ask one of them what the problem is and he won't give me an answer but tells me to pull over to the side of the road. While I'm talking to him another soldier jumps in the passenger seat. Oh great. Now I'm in for a battle. These are soldiers by the way, not traffic police. They have guns, big guns. After pulling over we start talking. By this time 3 of these guys are at my window. None of them speak english so it is all up to my french. They tell me that on this road passing the president's house (who is not currently there) I need to honk my horn 3 times out of respect...ugh. I knew right then that this would not go well because he just made up that rule and now he is going to ask for money. I begin to protest and then realize I shouldn't be too insulting, especially since it is an infraction agains the president and because these guys all have big guns and one is sitting next to me and because it is dark, I am alone, and there are not too many other cars out. He tells me it is a $50 fine, which I at first refuse to pay at all. After awhile of arguing they threaten to search me so I decide to give them some money and get out of here. I end up paying them about $10 total. They then insult me for not knowing a lot of french and let me go. As I drive away I give them the thumbs up and honk three times. Beep beep beep.

Josue Manda

A friend of mine died this week in a swimming accident. His name was Josue Manda. He was just a year younger than me. I had only known him for a mere 3 months. He was a fun individual and I enjoyed the conversations and times we had together. He welcomed me as a friend the second day I had been in the Congo. He loved life and always had a smile to give. I respected the willingness he had to serve others. His life has blessed me.

A Season

It has been 3 months since I moved to the Congo. A season. I have never real had a good sense of time. For the most part it seems like I have been here a lot longer than 3 months. I was talking with a missionary last week and he said the first couple months seem like they'll never end and then time flies after that. I'll just take time as it comes and try to patient enough to slow down and enjoy the moment and take it all in. I'm glad I still have plenty of time here. I'm definitely not at my full potential and feel there is so much more God has for me to do here. So I'll take this moment to reflect on the first 3 months and be thankful and then turn my attention back to the present and joyfully anticipate the future.

Happy Thanksgiving!