Grape Expectations

I have been in Congo for 4 days now and every single one of them has been filled to the brim with new experiences. I want to share with you every detail about my journey from Uganda to Congo, and my first few days here. However, if I add every detail about every single thing I've found to be spectacular or curious, I’d have no time for anything else.

Let’s start with the drive, shall we? We drove to the border of Uganda on nicely paved, well maintained roads. of course by ‘drove’ I mean we were driven. Our driver was called Sam. He’s Congolese and one of the nicest human beings I have ever had the pleasure of meeting, then immediately spending an 11 hour drive with. He is also, as the aforementioned drive would reveal, a huge Taylor Swift fan. We arrived at the Uganda-Congo border crossing, which was an old wooden shed with a bamboo pole serving as the gate. On the other side of this barrier was a MASSIVE pot-hole crater in the middle of the road. Sam looked at me, smiled and said, “You see that big hole in the road? That one, just there? That is Congo”. So here I was, crossing over from the comfortable, the familiar, the known, to the mysterious, foreign and complete unknown. This fact was painfully obvious as we were sitting in the immigration office once we had entered Congo and I was called into a room by the immigration officer. Of course, I didn’t know I was being summoned, because the man calling for me was doing so in French. Another man who was travelling with us, called Francis, looked at me and said, “You don’t speak French?”. When I informed him that I did not, he simply said “uh-oh”. Not the most promising of words.

The drive from the Congo border to Beni brought with it some of the most amazingly beautiful landscape I have ever seen. However, having been stopped, searched and questioned by soldiers twice by this point, it really wasn’t the time to pull over for photos. 11 hours, 1 flat tire, 2 military check-points and a whole lotta French later, we arrived at our destination. We got to the house of Eva, the manager of the organization I’ll be working with, just in time for dinner. This dinner came complete with beef stew, mashed irish, greens and for dessert—a security briefing. During this particular course, I was informed that the site of the school where I am to teach is 4km outside of town and, because of the rebel presence, was no longer safe. We decided that the school would be moved into the guest house where I was supposed to stay, and I would be put in the main house with Eva, her husband Francis (aka Mr. Uh-Oh, who as it turns out, doesn’t speak French himself) and their two adorable children, Mathias (5) and Nehemiah (2). I was also told that I had a 5:30pm curfew and that I would need to check-in every morning and they would let me know whether or not I could leave the compound that day. and for the cherry on top, they let me know that the internet connection would be sporadic and when it was there, left much to be desired. Just as I was beginning to wonder how fast I could get back to Uganda, they offered me a hot shower. As it turns out, I hadn’t had a hot shower in several months, so I decided to stay.

The next few days were filled with meetings, talks with parents, shopping for school supplies and getting our makeshift classroom ready for children. Culture shock is not something I expected to encounter coming to Congo. I mean, I was coming from Uganda, it’s neighbor to the East, so it had to be pretty similar, right? WRONG. I stumbled into a country so underdeveloped, it makes Gulu seem like part of the western world. The list of differences between Uganda and Congo is already endless, and I suspect it’s only going to grow. The most obvious difference (and the one I was most prepared for) is that the main language is French, with some Kiswahili thrown in for good meausre. What I wasn’t prepared for is how few people would speak English...and by ‘few’, I literally mean 3. It is because of this that I am dedicating the majority of my free time at the moment to learning French…and learning it fast. The most trivial difference is the internet access. I was used to having it anytime, anywhere in Uganda; Here, I’m lucky to get a couple of hours a day and don’t even think about uploading a picture, let alone video chatting with anyone. And the most jarring difference, by far, is the military presence. There are FARDC soldiers and UN MONUSCO forces EVERYWHERE, armed to the teeth with automatic weapons. Trucks filled with military personnel pass on the main street (the only street) in Beni all day and all night. We happen to live right off the main street, so these trucks are just lovely at 2am. This military presence will definitely be one of the biggest adjustments to life here, I should think.

I’d be lying if I said these first few days of being in a new country complete with its very own rebel insurgency, where I don’t speak the language, and having limited contact with family and friends haven’t been hard. And then last night came the conversation I wasn’t prepared to have this soon. The ‘we are going to be on lockdown tomorrow because there are rumors of a rebel attack, oh and have a bag ready in case we need to evacuate’ conversation (more about this in a future blog post—not ready to go there just yet). In the spirit of full disclosure, I went to sleep last night, quite scared and thinking, “What have you gotten yourself into?”. Thankfully, this thought was fleeting and I woke up this morning feeling refreshed and optimistic, and just a tad bit anxious. All of the uncertainty and fear I was feeling was immediately curtailed when I walked to the breakfast table and saw in front of me, a bowl of grapes (I have a picture of said grapes, but don’t have the internet capacity to post it). For many people, the sight of a bowl of grapes will illicit a feeling no greater than that of mild appreciation. However, if you have ever lived in northern Uganda for an extended amount of time, this sight will evoke an emotion no less than pure joy. The sight of the grapes alone was enough to calm my fears; The taste was enough to restore my faith in humanity, if only for a moment.

Sitting on the veranda, eating my grapes (yes, I did eat the entire bowl) I was able to put aside all of the worries I had for my own safety and think of those who didn’t have the protection of armed guards and a 12 foot wall with razor wire lining the top. The civilian population, the innocent women and children, who will have no warning of the impending rebel attack until it is right upon them. I tried (and failed) to imagine what living in constant fear must be like, and knowing that all of those fears would more than likely prove to be all too real. To know that these rebels hold not only guns in their hands, but the fate of you and your children, as well. I cannot imagine what the reality of life for them must be like right now. To pretend that I can even begin to fathom that life is an insult to all those who are currently living that reality. However, it was in this moment that I was able see, with absolute clarity, that I am EXACTLY where I am supposed to be.

I have to find a way to write about the situation here, and the happenings of today, in a way that doesn’t  cause your concern for my safety to overshadow where the most concern should be—with the safety of those who are in the most imminent danger. Until I decide how to go about doing that, rest assured that I am safe and well protected. And PLEASE keep the Congolese people in your constant thoughts and prayers. The danger that the innocent people in the North Kivu province of DRC face on a daily basis cannot be overstated, and the pain they’ve already endured is beyond measure. Again, thank you for all the love and support you continue to show me.

all of my love and happiness,
Bliss xxxx

(ps- I have so many amazing pictures already that I very much want to share. However, as evidenced by the failed grape picture, the internet connection here just won’t allow it. I worry that photo posts might be very few and far between)