Being in the Minority

For the last four weeks I have been taking French lessons at the Alliance Franco-Congolaise. Unfortunately, the school is located next door to a building that distributes unemployment payments to former "soldiers" that have agreed to lay down arms in exchange for these payments. They are often disabled and traumatized men. It is a current occurrence that the money the state provides for them goes missing before it can be distributed. They then gather outside the building and wait exactly where I park my car.

Today was such a day. In the past I have found a parking spot and been able to enter the school without incident. But today there were no parking spots. In an attempt to wait for a space one man stood in front of my car and then acted like I had hit him with my car. I had been warned this is a common practice elsewhere in Kinshasa and was not worried that I had hit him based on the smiles on other men's faces but of course this event enboldened the 100 or so men that were now enclosing my car. They started rapping on the windows with their fists. I honked my horn to draw attention to myself as many at the school know me and a police station is just down the street. No one, however, came to disperse the crowd. Instead of continuing to look for a space I left.

The experience was upsetting to say the least. I am not sure if I should have tried to find a place and parked to stand my ground or not. In the moment though I was too frusturated and scared to get out of my car. Of course, I am left with the quandry--can I go back and park there in the future without incident? I was planning on visiting the director of the school tonight to pay for my course so I will bring the incident up with him. Perhaps he will have a solution. I may not have learned any French this morning but I did learn what it feels like to be in the minority.

"Kinshasa is Totally Trippy"

NDI colleague and friend Honorine Muyoyeta visits a vote compilation center in Kinshasa

The DRC has the largest UN peacekeeping force in the world, with 17,000 troops. Unfortunately, in a country the size of Western Europe with only 300 miles of paved roads their presence is barely felt in the country. Where they are felt is in Kinshasa. I'll describe by way of anecdote:

Shortly after the elections Adrian and I were taking, Jakob, a friend and EU election observer, home for the evening. Since there are few street lights in Kinshasa driving at night makes avoiding potholes especially challenging. On that particular night we noticed headlights coming toward us on the opposite side of the road. The curious thing, however, was they were too far apart to be the headlights of a car or even of a large truck. At first, Adrian wondered if they were two motorcyles riding in perfect sync but as we approached and passed the strange headlights we realized the vehicle was none other than a UN tank. That was a first for me. Jakob couldn't have described the situation better when he said "Kinshasa is totally trippy".

Of course, living in a country where four UN armored personnel carriers (basically a tank on wheels) stand guard over your building every night to keep the heavily armed, drunk/high militia soldiers in line is not a pleasant experience. I don't mean to make light of it here. But it is a daily reality in Kinshasa and humor is the best way to deal with the stress and anxiety that come with living in such a place.

The important thing is to keep your wits about you and know your rights. No one here has a right to search your car, ask to see your passport or come into your home unless they are the police. And even then you should call your embassy before allowing anyone to search you. Of course this is easier said than done when the other person is holding an AK47 assault rifle. Nonetheless, the men with the guns here know harming anyone in the international community could create big problems for them and/or their leaders so if you are assertive with them they will back down. There are many things I am learning here which is why I wanted to come. But there are many things that I miss about home. Being able to walk down the street, not be driven down it, is one of them.

Public Transportation

The rear view of a Congolese Cab

As a result of the general lack of infrastructure here there are no mailboxes or clearly marked cabs. Don't be fooled, however, Kinshasa has a massive, functioning transportation system in place. "Taxis" are usually the exact cars you would pick out as being un-driveable. They are often missing bumpers, head/rear lights, windows and/or doors. They inevitably ride low because they are packed full with people including those hanging onto the roof and sitting where windows used to be.

Kinshasa is a big, populous city (7 million) with a limited number of people able to afford a car so everyday people "hail" a cab by standing on the side of the road and making various hand signals to indicate to which part of town they would like to go. If a taxi driver that is going to that part of town sees them, and has room in the cab still he/she will pull over (often cutting off 4-5 unmarked lanes of traffic) and pick up the travelers.

Congolese Commerce

Shopping in Kinshasa: Everything from fresh fruit to shoe repair is available on the street.

A friend recently asked that I write about life in Kinshasa and after 2+ months here I have noticed some interesting things. The best way to imagine life in Kinshasa is to think about all the services the government provides (postal service, trash pick-up, public transportation, etc.) and remove those services. Next, take all your notions of normal commerce (supermarkets, wal-mart, target) and minanturize them or place them on the street. What I mean by this is anything that can be sold for a profit, is sold in Kinshasa. Often times, however, the only place to buy it is from a make-shift vendor on the street or to ask either the guard of your building or your "domestique" to buy it for you. This latter option is often preferable because it saves enormous amounts of money--buying on the street yourself, since you can't hide your nationality here (even African-Americans are easily recognizable), usually shoots the price up about 300%.

We recently spent way too much money on a pair of metal shelves for dry food storage. The only company to once have produced such items in the Congo has since gone bankrupt. There are however, two competing street vendors not far from our apartment. So we went on a Saturday morning, bought two sets of shelves, only for them not to fit in our car. So we waited for someone to show-up with a wrench (which is the nice thing about a country where everyone wants to sell you something--what you need inevitably walks by) only for our guards to tell us we spent way too much money and next time to just send them instead (of course they would make a commission but we still would have saved lots of money). Nonetheless, the experience was a good one. It would be no fun to live here if we didn't go interact with the people and learn how and where to buy what we wanted!