Update from Glo

First of all, please be patient with my typos and run-on sentences.   No edits in this blog.  It is a constant battle to get anything written with power and internet outages throughout composing, plus numerous interruptions. 

We are celebrating week SEVEN in the DR CONGO! I can say now I am starting to feel like I belong here.  It is quite something different to live in a developing country as opposed to being a traveler in a developing country, especially the DRC.   Many times each day we shake our heads and wonder why things are done or not done the way they are and we will probably continue to ask those questions until the day we leave, but what with making great friends both expats and locals we are getting more used to the way life goes here. 

Probably one reason why I feel more acclimated is because ummmmmm ok I did it, I ate fufu.  Fufu is a national dish.  Dish?  Well not sure I can call it a dish.   It is a lump of dough made from cassava and maize flour.   Congolese people eat it constantly.   While discussing the ingredients with Felix, I suggested it might have a little more flavor if salt were added.   The look on his face suggested I had just uttered a profanity.  So while we were in the neighborhood we went to Angel’s Omelet stand.  Angel is a woman from Church who walks, yes walks 5 miles each day at 5 a.m. to her stand location and makes omelets.  But oh lucky me, Angel also has fufu on the menu.  So I could not escape the inevitable, Felix insisted this was the day.  One often eats a meat or vegetable dish with fufu but pinching off a hunk of the “dough” and dipping it in a sauce that accompanies meat or vegetables.  Angel presented a wonderful fish and sauce along with the fufu.

(note there is a knife and fork in the picture) A local wouldn’t receive utensils as eating with fingers is appropriate.  So of course that is what I did.   I immediately took a bite of fufu having first dipped it in the sauce and began to chew.  “NO NO you don’t chew fufu; you roll it around in your mouth into a ball and then swallow it”.  While much discussion was taking place about the skill of rolling fufu into a ball in one’s mouth the omelets arrived, oh yummy.  Then a man sitting across from us received his order of fufu but with something other than fish, it was rather interesting looking and I inquired what his fufu condiment was, Felix proudly reported that it was caterpillars.   Ok….well….so much for the rest of the fish, omelet and Felix happily devoured the remainder of the fufu for me.

Angel making fufu.

 I thought a lot about my Wednesday hiking buddies on Wednesday as I tromped trail through the jungle to a village where we were inspecting a potential water project site.  Will post pictures.   Yes you see me in a skirt!  I would have asked the same question.  Why is she wearing a skirt when she is out there in the wilderness, and believe me the Umpqua National Forest trails are considerably better than my jungle trails.  BUT…..it is a lot more comfortable to wear a skirt in the heat and humidity than it would be to wear pants. So while I may look out of character for a woman on the trails in the US, African women mostly wear skirts, dresses or a sarong type wrap.  Sometimes you see a woman in pants but rarely.   Also, only rarely do you see a man in shorts, maybe if he is a runner, very occasionally a man in long cut offs but mostly they are in dark pants and a dark shirt of some sort.    Back to the trek into the jungle, it felt like 10 miles but Felix our trusted guide/translator and dear friend told me it was probably only about 3K.   We were all dripping wet, but greeted warmly by the community.  What lovely people.  They are happy to see “mondeli” (white faces) because they know we are there to offer help.   The children are my favorite.  Very little ones hide behind a mother or older sibling and peek out because they maybe have never seen anyone who is white and it scares them.  But when an older sibling say someone 5 or 6 years old is brave enough to come close and I gently put out my hand they will maybe be brave enough to touch my hand….and when I say “moninga” (friend in Lingala) they burst into laughter and think that is so funny that someone of my color knows their language.  Then it isn’t long until I am surrounded by swarms of new friends.   It is always so cute when they touch my hand or arm and they look to see if the white came off on them.   Arrived home hours later exhausted from the heat and filled with affection for my new friends who live in such a totally different environment than any of us could ever imagine.

When we finished the meeting these cute ladies said, “We need to take you out for some girlfriend time”.   Now mind you folks, Ro and I do really well together.  Much better than I expected given we have been side by side almost 24/7 for 9 weeks now. But I will admit, I have been missing some girlfriend time, but I didn’t have any girlfriends here!  So joyfully off we went.  What a kick, they laughed and laughed at me as I shrieked with sheer delight just to get out and play.   First they showed me a place where they get fresh produce (although it was closed that day) then we went for ice cream, then to the fabric market.   I got three pieces of great colorful African prints, then off to their seamstress Jeannine who “can sew anything”.   I told her what I wanted to have made from the pieces of fabric and she said they would be done by Tuesday at a cost of $35 for four items.  Way fun. By the time I got back to my office 4 hours later I felt like a new woman!   Can’t wait for my new clothes.  I have been feeling way too conservative in my attire!!!!! 

Great ladies who serve unconditionally.

Next to me Manon Delisle, then Nilza Grana and Anne-Sophie.

With the dears Manon and Anne Sophie Delisle. They helped me pick out the fabric.

Close-up of the fabric.

My new skirts are very conservative in comparison to the bright and somewhat garish fabrics the Congolese women wear.  They  look gorgeous in their bright clothes.  I am slowly working my way to something more daring.  I have several dress ideas in mind but for now I am loving the change from black skirt and white blouse.  YAY!!!!  

Every morning when we leave our apartment we are greeted by this face!

This huge smiling face.   I think this face is one of the most adorable I have ever seen.   Introducing Christophe.  He is the gardener, caretaker, car washer, whatever is needed guy of our compound.   He speaks only one word of English……Friend….and that is because I taught it to him.   But his smile says it all.   I have become his personal calendar because each morning I greet him “Bonjour Christophe” and then in my best French I tell him what day of the week it is.  He bursts into this huge smile and confirms that I am correct always ending the sentence in Madam which is so charming!   Then we have a little chat with Ro as our translator of course.  Christophe has been the man for all seasons around this compound for 13 years; he has 8 children and is very proud to report that his two oldest sons are at the University studying medicine and economics.   His youngest child is 13 months.   I haven’t had the nerve to ask him yet if he has more than one wife.   I asked Felix (translator and cultural advisor) if it would be rude to ask him that and he said that it would be but gave me some ideas on how we might bring the topic up.   We aren’t there yet.   Christophe made his own broom from palm fronds that by the looks of it would require special skill to make it do its job, but Christophe makes it work, everything is spic and span each day as he finishes sweeping.   What a great friend he is, his smile alone starts our day off on the right foot.

Most of the Congolese people have very little in the way of material possessions but believe me, one thing most of them have are the hugest smiles and they love it when a funny little old mondeli lady waves and smiles back and they burst into hysterical laughter when I lay a few Lingala words on them.

Rather ironic though, the locals don’t smile when they are getting their picture taken.  As mentioned, they flash these huge disarming smiles in real life, but just ask them if you can take their picture and soberness befalls their faces.  So I have to say, “Now, I want to see your hugest smile”.  Sometimes they smile and sometimes they don’t. 

So in seven weeks we have been stopped by the police 7 times.   Today (Saturday, March 1) being the 7^th.   Sometimes I think it is humorous and other times it is just plain annoying.   Today it was plain annoying.   Ro gets a little agitated when we are stopped but today when we were heading to the grocery store we saw this big “officer” manhandling some local guys on the side of the road.  When we were pulling out of the parking area near the store he stopped us.  We of course show our passports (through the window) never unrolling the window   He was being all blustery, trying his best to be intimidating. I looked at him with “that look” (my kids know what that look is like) and said to him in “that voice”, “Listen, we are missionaries and we are here in this country trying to bring clean water to your people, will you just let us do what we came here for and stop hassling us”.   The look on his face was priceless, actually I think I saw a little quiver of his lip and he immediately backed away, told his companion who was blocking our way to leave us alone, and off we went.   These poor guys, they pay the police little or nothing and the only way they make any money is to intimidate people into giving them something. I hope the word spreads not to mess with this old girl!