Back to the world of the legal

Though we've spent the shortest amount of time here, I think we've had a maximum amount of adventure, and I have to admit: neither David nor I are happy about leaving the quasi-Democratic pseudo-Republic of the Congo.

We've decided to come back.

But, until we can re-enter from Brazzaville on the other side of the country, une petite sommaire..

Food: Admittedly, the food here ain't what I'll be comin' back for. Though the VIP dining company is pretty awesome.
Worst thing eaten: I don't actually like fish in general, but occasionally I have this silly masochistic impulse to order it and force myself to eat it anyway. I don't know why I do this, but it happens at least once every couple months. It happened here.
Best thing eaten: I would say the lovely pizza we had at the UN-hangout restaurant across the street from Hotel des Grands Lacs, but David has to file a dissenting opinion: for him, the best thing eaten was definitely the egg. "It had moral satisfaction mixed in with the salt!!"

New Hygienic Lows: It was in our sixties-era bathroom that the back half of my braids fell out, literally in certain places. The rest of it, after two or three weeks of not washing, was pretty filthy. I admit, it felt spectacular to finally wash it all, though it was a little alarming to see so much of it going down the drain..

New Words: Apparently, people speak a Congolese brand of Swahili in the DRC, with a new word for hiccup: seku-seku. Even spending only a day here, I didn't get far without needing that one...
The level of French cultivated here is much higher than that in Rwanda or Burundi, and does legitimately represent a language in which to communicate with most people. Some of the younger generation is beginning to learn English, though.. we'll see where that goes.

Quote: When we first showed up at the DRC embassy in Kigoma to buy two tourist visas, the employees were more than a little confused. What are you doing in the DRC? What do you mean you're tourists?? Aren't you scared of the war???
I, however, prefer the quote of an old man who fell into step with us in Goma, apparently for the purpose of asking how we were. I told him we were very well, and it was a beautiful day. He was thrilled to hear it and, flinging an arm at the wide beautiful sky with the odd UN plane, declared, "Oui, il fait beau! - yes, it's a beautiful day - il y a de la guerre, there's a war going on, but in Congo, mais au Congo, il fait beau!"

Worst Experience: Realizing in the tiny police shack by the shore as the official threw down my passport that it's not America, I don't get a phone call, I might not get a trial, and that I could theoretically be taken to a DRC jail for detention and god knows what else.

Best Experience: Winning back my freedom... and making off with all of my biscuits.

And NEXT time, I'll know not to bring any...