I finally took a trip across the Congo River this week. I’ve wanted to go for a long time and we were opening a new community bank on a day that worked with my schedule so I went. The canoes look small from my apartment but they’re really huge. Occasionally I’ll see people pushing one down the street on a large wheeled contraption - they must weigh at least a few tons and they are very stable in the water. It gave me a completely new perspective of canoe travel as we zipped past other boats with 40 or more people lining the sides and merchandise in the middle. The trip takes about five minutes in a motorized boat and up to 30 or 40 minutes when paddled.
Recently we tried to buy life jackets for our staff and the only ones we could find in town were nothing special in terms of quality and had been painted across the back in French “gift from the Belgian Kingdom”. The NGO that was selling their gift wanted $100 a piece. Instead we’re waiting for a couple of high-quality $25 jackets to come from the USA.
In the meantime, I am happy to report to my mother and anyone else who cares that crossing the river in a motorized canoe is pretty darn stable and safe. (It helps to have reasonably good confidence that the motor is in good shape as they don’t keep emergency paddles in the boat. They rely on other motorized boats to come to the rescue.)
It was a cloudy, dry and relatively cool day for the trip and I enjoyed walking from the canoe landing to the church where the community bank meets. There are almost no cars over there and fewer motorcycles than here. People didn’t even seem surprised to see me walking around. A couple of them called me “Pere”. They think I am a priest visiting the local parish. I’m often assumed to be a priest if I am not assumed to be with the United Nations mission. At the loan disbursal I was able to hold a baby for a photograph and she didn’t even cry. About 90% of the babies I’ve held here freak out. I am the abominably snowy-white man so I can’t blame them at all, but this little girl was not phased and I was blessed.
Here are some recent photos. The first is a micro-business on the other side of the Congo River. The owner/operator of this bakery changed the business name to HOPE and a staff member shared this photo with me. The second picture is at the river crossing. They really pack people into the dugout canoes - our loan officers rent the entire boat.
If you’re reading this in a country where you can safely drink directly from the tap I suggest you stop reading and go draw yourself a tall glass of water and drink up. Don’t feel guilty about it but feel free to express gratitude to a higher power: the local water company, the government regulatory agencies, God.
When I was growing up in Arizona we were taught in school to conserve water in that desert. I never took it very seriously. Long showers and playing with the garden hose were standard practices. I remember taking long drinks from the hose.
I’m thinking about water for two reasons. First, I just completed my Saturday morning ritual of filling 15 water cans in my apartment. Fortunately the pump is still working and I don’t have to hire people to haul water cans up and down the stairs. The only problem is that they turn the pump on for just minutes a day and it starts right as I leave for work. By Saturday I’m usually near the bottom of my supply and it’s a good feeling to replenish it. Life gets pretty hard fast without water.
The other reason I’m thinking about water is thanks to a visit to Dr. Adipepe this week. He owns and operates the clinic where our staff receive health care. Lately there have been more complaints than usual and it’s been too long since I’ve seen him so we paid a visit. He might just have the most personality of anyone in the city, maybe anyone I’ve ever met. He laughs uproariously at himself regularly in conversation and his eyes and teeth almost pop out of his face as he does. He’s usually pointing right at me when this happens. He was telling stories and talking up a storm and I started to feel bad about the patients waiting. Sitting behind him was the brand new ultrasound machine he is very proud of. I’m impressed by it and I hope it runs on variable voltage.
As I was expressing some of the staff concerns his reply was in the form of a question, “Have any of your staff died under my care?” “No, they haven’t.” “Well then I rest my case. What do you have to complain about?” I guess he has a point, of sorts. But I quickly replied, “Well doctor, that’s a basic level of customer service I suppose since nobody is dead, but these living staff members deserve a bit more than that don’t you think?”
Staff complain about negative results to Malaria tests when they believe that’s what they have. Dr. Adipepe’s contention is that it’s really more often Typhoid Fever from unsanitary water and people are not in the habit of boiling it. The mosquitoes and Malaria are certainly rampant but I can’t help but think that the doctor has a point. It’s an ongoing conflict that will likely continue and we’ll try to mediate it. As usual, reality probably lies somewhere between the positions people are taking. Unfortunately there aren’t many options for health care here. And then I think about the vast jungle surrounding our city and this place looks like the Mayo Clinic.
Having recently had Typhoid I can’t help but be compelled to pray for people across this nation and around the world who are suffering the pangs of severe illness but lack even the pocket change to get treatment. I think especially of the ones who got sick only because they drank a glass of water from the tap.
Recent Comments