On Banality Part 2

You start to ask someone dear to you about a question that seems quite important to you at the moment.

They answer with a distance response to the question.

Then they say, “The student who was shot and killed in Butembo was our good friend who we grew up with. Remember the guy we saw together at the fair that I hugged and was joking with. That’s him. ”

Shit.

“Oh, I am so sorry, oh no, sorry, shoot, please let me know if there is anything I can do or bring to his family.”

“I hate Congo. I hate this place,” he says, “ I hate Congo. I am sick of this place.”

Shit. What do you say?

I am not going to try to philosophize.

On Banality

In Goma…

-International NGOs evacuating or on lockdown during Congolese Independence Day with no validated, documented evidence that suggested any type of real threat.

-Car reversing down the road at night without looking.

-Two casinos opening within one month and ¼ mile from each other.

-DGM Goma border people saving me while getting visas for 12 Americans. Forever indebted to their coolness.

-Babu, the Congolese border chief, wearing an orange suit with a Congolese flag tie on Independence Day.

-Whose going away party are we at?

-So, you mean the Lebanese grocery stores are a cover up? For what? I thought it was suspicious they had 20 of them working at the same store….

-Wait, another journalist who thinks he is writing the first article about how Congo is a rape-savaged, mineral-full, FDLR invested area with little glimmers of hope in the resilience of people?

-Daily awkward pauses in conversation as planes pass 20 feet above head.

-Street lights are amazing.

- Your Excellency, Honorables, (et alt)….and citizens, I am thankful that I am given the words to speak to you today. (2 hours later).

-Shoot, man, this place is so beautiful.

Goma folks, any additions?

Innocent Wins!

Sekombi pulls up to the house with Ganza on a mission.
“Do you have a white bed sheet?”
“Yeah, I think it is on the bed though, why?” I say.
“We need to make the screen bigger for the showing of Vodacom Superstar tonight, so people who are standing far away can still see.”
I go pull the sheet off the bed, “here you go.”
“So the screening is at 6pm tonight right? At round point BDGL?” I ask.
“Yup,” Sekombi answers on his way out the door, “ see you there.”

This is the final day of Vodacom Superstar, which is like Congo’s American Idol, but sponsored by Akon. Today, Akon will be in Kinshasa and the winner between the final two candidates will be announced. One of the final candidates is thirteen-year-old Innocent, who has been singing his whole life with his brothers. He started gaining local fame through Yolé! Africa, a youth cultural center in Goma where Sekombi is the director. Three candidates out of 16 candidates nationwide are from Goma and two are from Yolé! Africa’s center.

Ave Maria in the Physical Therapy Room

She sang out Ave Maria as her head rolled around without motor control, sitting between two physical therapists on a mat while trying support herself sitting up, smiling incessantly. This nine-year old girl, Kavine, born prematurely with what is thought to be cerebral palsy and a variety of different congenital diseases, had no control over her body movements until one month ago. Kavine of course cannot walk and her grandmother carries the tall, long-limbed young girl everywhere.  As Kavine sat on the mat with the Congolese physical therapists being trained by two American physical therapists, her grandmother look dotingly on and said, “ Sing Ave Maria for them my dear.”

The Misconception About Fistula in Congo

I met a woman who has a fistula (a tear between the vaginal wall and the bladder) and has been leaking urine for 35 years. Why is she like this? Because 35 years ago she was in labor with her second child, she needed a caesarian section, and didn’t have access to medical help. She was in labor for 5 days; the baby died and she was left with a fistula.

I would like to take this opportunity here to dispel several myths that have infiltrated every single piece of media regarding Congo and sexual violence: not all of the women waiting for fistula surgery at Panzi Hospital and HEAL Africa Hospital have been raped. In fact, the majority has not been raped. And the amount of women who have fistula as a direct result of rape is even smaller. Here are the approximate statistics from both hospitals:

Mining in Mongbwalu

Last month, I went up to an area in northeastern Congo that is well known for its gold mines. They are truly Wild West towns. I felt like I had entered an African Clint Eastwood western. The women cook around the mining pits and sell to the miners who are coming up for breaks. The town has one main street lined with stores, bars, gold trading shops, and more bars. During the rainy season it is impossible to keep your shoes clean of mud-you sink the red clay and come up with a big glopping noise. At night, music rings out from all the different bars down the street and it seems like it could be just another street in a big city full of movement. The miners walk around town in their rubber boots, drinking beer and eating grilled meat after their daily physically exhausting work. Prostitution is not an issue of shame and is part of daily life.

Mama Noella

We were in Masisi, a small town in the endless rolling green mountains of eastern Democratic Republic of Congo. It was only two months into what would be two years living in the Congo working for HEAL Africa, a Congolese hospital and organization dedicated to healthcare, education and micro-finance initiatives. My Swahili and French were very rough at that point and I was traveling with five of my co-workers, only one of whom spoke English. Naturally I accidently said things of absolute hilarity and nonsense, one of which came on that trip to Masisi. We were sitting outside at night waiting for dinner at a small wooden built structure called a hotel. Someone asked me if I understood something. When trying to say that I did, I answered, “Ninalewa, “ or in other words, “I am drunk.”