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!

Captivated

I've been on those tours of old prisons that are now closed down, but I've never been to a real prison. At least, I hadn't been to one until last week. The church I'm attending here in Lubumbashi does a prison ministry once a month. We take a team to the prison to deliver a message and then give them some food. I decided to tag along last weekend and see what it was all about. The prison we went to is in Kipushi, which is about an hour and a half drive from Lubumbashi and right on the border of Zambia. I didn't really know what to expect from the prison. All I knew it was cramped and not the greatest of conditions for the prisoners. When we got there we were led into an outdoor gathering area. All the prisoners were gathered in this courtyard, seated on the floor watching we set up our things in front of them. A family from my church had come along and sang some songs for the men. The message was then given and then we passed out food. They are not fed very well so I'm assuming they really appreciate the food we bring, even though it is not much. I got to help hand out the food so I got to look each prisoner in the eye as I handed them food. I had no idea what any of these men had done to deserve to be in prison, but I never felt uneasy or afraid. I felt sorry for them. I probably sat in the same room with them for 2 hours, sitting towards the front so I could see all their faces. I didn't feel like I was better than anyone of them. I've made tons of mistakes and done terrible things like I'm sure these men have, yet I am the one who could walk out of that prison whenever I wanted to.

It was one of those times, which seems to happen a lot to me, where I try to be a blessing to someone but they end up blessing me more. It also reminded me of Ephesians 4. While Paul is in prison he gives this message to the church:

"While I'm locked up here, a prisoner for the Master, I want you to get out there and walk—better yet, run!—on the road God called you to travel. I don't want any of you sitting around on your hands. I don't want anyone strolling off, down some path that goes nowhere. And mark that you do this with humility and discipline—not in fits and starts, but steadily, pouring yourselves out for each other in acts of love, alert at noticing differences and quick at mending fences."

I have the opportunity to run, yet I often find myself sitting on my hands or going down these dead end paths. The prison visit reminded me that I am not a captive of my sin and I need to steadily running on the road God has called me.

Confederation of African Football Championship

I found out a few days ago that the biggest soccer match of the year in the Congo was happening this weekend here in Lubumbashi. I had been to one soccer match here already and I could tell the Congolese here are quite enthusiastic about their soccer so I knew this match would be a must for me to go to. Africa's version of the English Premier League is the CAF Champions league, but it is for the entire continent of Africa. So all the best club teams in Africa play in this league and the local club team here, TP Mazembe, had advanced to the championship match against a team from Tunisia. I decided to go to the match with a Congolese guy I work with named Patrick. He and his brothers are big fans of Mazembe so they were fun to go with. We headed to the stadium and past through downtown on the way. The fanatics were already out in full force with their painted faces and costumes as they danced and sang in the streets. Once we got to the stadium it was much more of the same. We had to push our way through the crowds and police to make our way inside the gates of the stadium. We found some good seats and watched as the capacity stadium sang, blew their vuvuzela's (which I am now able to fully appreciate how obnoxious they are), and chanted as the team's warmed up. The opposing team was full of mzungu's, which is Swahili for "white person", so unfortunately I heard lot of jeering with "mzungu" thrown in there. Luckily I was proudly wearing my TP Mazembe shirt so I was not to be confused as a fan of my fellow white men, which brought much entertainment and laughter to the crowd around me.

Once the match started all focus was put towards the field. I very much wanted TP Mazembe to win, but I was able to watch the match with an impartial view of the refereeing and as I result it was very clear to me that the referees on the field were very biased in favor of the home team. I hoping to find statistics on the match somewhere, but I can guesstimate that the fouls on the Tunisian team were close to 30 whereas the number of fouls against TP Mazembe was maybe 5. The Tunisians probably got about 7 yellow cards to Mazembe's zero. The Tunisian's also had a player red carded and another one called for a penalty kick. It was the most ridiculous officiating ever, but the Congolese fans loved it. TP Mazembe took advantage of the situation and converted on some great plays to win the match 5-0. The stadium would go crazy after every goal. I almost got knocked over several times and definitely got splashed with lots of water. It was sad to see the Tunisian team totally dejected after the goals started racking up. When the final whistle blew the riot police rushed out onto the field to protect the referees because they knew the Tunisians were upset and were going to go after them. There were several skirmishes were the Tunisian players tried attacking the refs or anyone they could take out their frustration on. The police soon devised a plan to hold hands and encompass the entire Tunisian team. This was quite a site from the stands and crowd applauded it. They were led off the field and the celebrating began.

There was a mass exodus from the stadium and again we pushed and shoved to find our way back to the car. I felt like the most popular person there being a mzungu in a TP Mazembe shirt. People loved it and everyone had a comment for me. The car ride home was a parade as crowds lined both sides of the streets and cheered as the cars passed. We headed home one direction but saw objects on fire in front of us a ways down the road. Whether it was tires, cars, or Tunisian fans being set on fire I don't know but the people in the street around us told us to quickly turn around so we wisely did so. Another memorable sight I saw on the way home was a taxi-van with about 15 people crammed inside, including a marching band. The back door was open and there was also about 15 people riding on top of the van as it sped and weaved through traffic. Got to love the Congolese and their ingenuity. We finally made it back home alive. Quite the experience. I was kicking myself the entire night for forgetting to bring my camera so I don't have pictures to share. It felt like one of the crazy events that you only get to experience once in your life. Needless to say I was quite happy.

Found a clip of some of the mayhem after the match:

http://www.youtube.com/user/vincent41373#p/a/u/1/e_vt4TQJq4o

Some Truth? A Lot of Truth?

Came across this map the other night and found it quite amusing.