Congo... Trapped in Timeless Tranquility

Though I was thrilled to arrive here, and much enjoyed the full week we had intended to spend here, the unforeseen extension of our stay was a little less enjoyable. All in all, however, tribute must be paid to the really lovely time we had here before I ever knew that les routes were pas bonnes...

Most Confusing Revelation: I arrived in Congo Republic sniffling, sneezing, bleary-eyed and about as dirty as usual, only to attract a record amount of romantic attention from the men of Brazzaville.

The effects of a shower and near-full recovery from my cold the next day, however, earned me much less attention.

After our adventures in the DRC, and back to my usual narsty state, I was back to beating them off with a stick.

David and I have thus decided that the more disgusting I am, the higher my romantic appeal for Congolese men. We speculated that perhaps its the appearance of accessibility: "No way that chick could turn me down, even if I have no teeth" sort of thinking.

Food: I will not order Congolese food again in a hurry.

It does have one advantage, however: there's no need to zealously defend your food from the flies, as not even they want to get too close to it. They'd rather perch on the ashtray. I wonder which tastes better.

You gotta hand it to the French, though - every place they went, they left their mark in the form of tasty, crusty baguettes you can buy for a couple quarters on any street.

Worst thing eaten: The first time I ordered off the "traditional Congolese dishes" sectiono f the menu was also the last.

Best thing eaten: One street treat that is common in Congo is also simple, healthy, and absolutely delicious - fried bananas. Cooked to a crispy tan and eaten piping hot, it's a treat I am definitely going to try to reproduce in the States.



Best Guesses at my nationality: You will not be shocked to hear that the merchants of Kinshasa's market hazarded a lot of "anglaise" "belgique" "hollandaise" "allemande" and "suèdoise" (Swedish) "russe" "canadienne" and most of the northern European countries in trying to guess my nationality. I wasn't, anyway. I was not, however, expecting the frequent guesses of "italienne?" that I got. Italienne? With this pink, sunburned skin, pointy chin and light afro-tastic hair?? I'll never understand.


Incidentally, not a single one of them guessed Américaine.. nor believed it when I finally told them.



Most Underwhelming Lonely Planet Recommendation: Good ol' LP's top recommendation for nearby excursions from Kinshasa is les Chutes de Lukia, apparently a massive waterfall of the Congo River a mere 40 minutes away from the city center.


After a torturous 90-minute drive in a sedan taxi over what I came to later recognize as a typical rainy-season road, we arrived at the waterfall.


Behold the majestic splendor!! Shall we play, "who can find the waterfall??" I promise it's in the photo...

Ooh! I win! This is me being underwhelmed.

I did, however, have a good time playing with fate and dipping my toes in the water to see if I would get a parasite, and thinking how excitingly ''risky'' I was being.

(Oh, fool that I was. Unbeknownst to me then, my body would be getting much better acquainted with the Congolese River and all her mud-loving organisms.)

Angriest Moment: Even with my newly lowered expectations, it continually amazes me how thoroughly Lonely Planet fails at anything even approaching a travel guide.

New Words Learned: The French are notorious (or should be) for their irrational numbering system. After counting normally to 20, you have to say 20-and-1, but not 20-and-2; then when you get to 70 they just give up on creating new words altogether and say "60-10". It seems they never foresaw anyone ever needing to count higher than 60-10-9, for when you get to 80 they really get out of whack. 80, in French, is 4-20. 85 is 4-20-5, and 90 is 4-20-10.

Luckily, once you get to 100 they finally think up a new word, cent, and you can go back to a something approximating a normal counting process. For a while, anyway.

Well, in DRC's Goma I was surprised and impressed to learn that the Congolese had done away with the worst of these offenses - 4-20-10 - by actually creating a new word, nonanté. It means 90, and makes perfect sense. Trying to use it in the Congo Republic, however, I was hastily informed that in civilised République du Congo, one indeed uses the real French. That is, 4-20-10. It's only across the river, they confided to me with a shudder, that they say such things as nonanté. (Barbaric!)

I was stunned. (Who do they think they're impressing??)

Of course, our mud experience also taught me some new, proper-French words I had never before needed to know - argile, the term for high-moisture content, absorbent mud (clay), and enbourber, the act of getting impossibly stuck in it.


Most Hilarious Monosyllabic Conversation: Despite the high price tag of our Brazzaville hotel, David and I had some issues getting basic facilities. Electricity we've come not to expect, but for a bit of water we were willing to beg a little from the reception.


Back in the room waiting for our bucket to come, we finally heard a man in the corridor, calling something that sounded very much like "eau", or water. We couldn't be sure. David (who tends to stick to single words when it comes to speaking in French) ran excitedly outside to investigate. The following discussion ensued (verbatim):

Random Man : OH!
David : Eau???
Man, confused : ..Oh?
David, excited : Eau!!!
Man, walking away : Oh.. oh, oh!!
David : ...Eau ? ?
Me (from inside room) : Eau??
David : No...
Me, disappointed : Oh..!

And devil take my blog if that isn't exactly how it happened, too.


Unexpected Observation of the Week: A surprising number of the people of both capitals are missing an eye. At one point I did a headcount of the crowd around me, and it was almost one in five. We speculated as to what could be causing so many people to walk around with one pupil-less misty white socket, but only had the vaguest of guesses. I know there are a few med students reading this - explanations???


Most Troublesome Official Scam: Despite coming into the Brazza airport with all our legal passports, papers and visas, we were prevented from entering the country for several hours (or getting our passports back) until we managed to make a sham hotel reservation. The quiet airport staffed with mostly legal employees was not a terribly stressful place to lose our papers, but still - what is it with the Congolese and passport confiscation??


Favorite Group of People: All along the quiet, dainty waterfront on the Brazza side of the Congo River, you will find elderly, plaid-adorned, bespectacled men lounging like dignitaries in plastic patio chairs. These are the Moneychangers of Brazzaville, and no one under 70 need apply. Placid, calm, and friendly, they instantly earned our respect and we happily brought them company, entertainment, and (considering the high Brazza prices and all the onward visas we needed to buy) almost a thousand US dollars in bright, crisp notes they fingered with evident mastery and satisfaction. I will miss those dignified chaps.



New Hygienic Lows: In the battered, flea-infested train from Brazzaville through beautiful, rolling jungle to the coast, I had the unusual sensation of going to flick some dirt off my skin before realizing it was moving. I didn't seem to suffer as many bites as David, but was closer to the cockroach headquarters. Feeling a tickle of something on the back of my leg under my skirt but too tired to investigate, I desperately hoped it was just rolling sweat.
I tried to maintain the aggression in my jihad on the Cockroach King into the early hours of the morning, but exhaustion fought back harder than I could. From David, later: "I knew you were really out when I looked over and saw a line of roaches going up the side of the train two inches from your face and you didn't react."

Considering, however, that I became rebaptised in thick Congolese mud from the shoulders down a few days later, I'm not actually sure if the fleas and roaches count as the lowest hygienic point of the Congo. True, I have been covered in mud before, and having fleas is generally a new low, but while I have showered away the fleas it remains to be seen if I have acquired any rare stowaways from the Congolese swamps.

Worst Experience: I don't think I need to elaborate.
Best Experience: One of our favorite places in Brazzaville was the artisan market, where good-natured (but hard-nosed) craft sellers offered us an incredible new bounty of unique and amazing masks, carvings, statues, jewelry, and other fun trinkets. Though I didn't walk away with as much as David, I admit I did come out having acquired a few fun little souvenirs.. one of them, admittedly, unearned.


Quote: After we got back from the DRC capital's craziness, Brazzaville seemed like a haven of orderly peace. A friendly grocer in the neighborhood, hearing of our trip, remarked to us with a bit of awe: "Wow... Kinshasa's an experience."

David laughed and added, "Brazzaville's kind of a graveyard compared to Kinshasa!"

The man thought about it before nodding and saying, "Well, yeah... but it's a pleasant graveyard."

This seems to be true of a lot of the Congo Republic. Even in our nightmarish trek to the border, only rarely were we in any sort of chaotic danger, and my real frustration was the absolute lack of urgency or even action on the part of anyone we tried to enlist in our transport. My moment of craziness in the swamps stemmed not actually from an intensity of stress or fear that I just couldn't handle, but instead the maddening sensation that I was irretrievably stuck in a tranquil, timeless morass of inaction. It is pleasant in the Congo Republic.. but then, so is a nursing home.


Could I live here? I would move to the DRC in a second, but I don't think I'll be taking up residence in the Congo Republic any time soon. Sorry, Amadour my lost Congolese husband, but if I have to live my life in general discomfort with the occasional element of mortal peril, I'd rather do it in the every-day-an-adventure atmosphere of the DRC!!