Bonjour les blancs

Before my departure friends and colleagues often requested that I keep a travel blog. After more than two weeks in Kinshasa, however, I am struck by how difficult it is to write something enlightening about my experiences thus far. This is perhaps because I still feel like an African neophyte, a situation compounded by inability to communicate clearly in French. These circumstances have left me feeling rather timid and unable to dive into Congolese culture in a way I had hoped or, at the very least, in a way that would be interesting to readers. Nonetheless, at the risk of writing trite and perhaps stereotypical observations I will attempt to record my experiences in the coming months and years.

Understanding the Congo and the Congolese will not magically happen after a certain number of years of living in Kinshasa or with fluency in French (or I imagine even with fluency in Lingala, the regional African language spoken here). It seems most of the expats and the international community knows and passively accepts that Kinshasa is a divided city. Not without a touch of irony, whites are unable to walk around town without security risk.

Anyone that has explored a new city knows walking/wandering around it is perhaps the best way to discover and find the city’s much sought after heart, culture, and various subcultures. In Kinshasa, however, wandering is, if not impossible, certainly dangerous. Therefore, being “stuck” in Kinshasa for the next three years actually brings me some comfort. It will take a long time to know this city of over 7.7 million people as I will have to learn about the best restaurants and jazz bars by word of mouth and insider tips. At least I have some time in which to do just that.