BrianJBecker.com

On Friday Curtis came back from a week in Kinshasa and I drove to the airport to pick him up. Usually our driver would make the trip but our office was closed in observance of Congolese Labor Day. The jeep also needed gas to make the trip and again the driver usually fuels the vehicle. I had a new coffee table delivered and Claude the carpenter was here to put the last coat of varnish on it Friday early in the morning. We got to talking and a couple of hours into our conversation it was time to gas the jeep and go find Curtis at the airport. Thankfully Claude was willing to come along to the airport.

The first gas station we drove into didn’t have any gas. The second one did but it was swamped with waiting motorcycles and others on bicycles with gas cans. A couple of years ago there weren’t any modern gas stations operating here. All petrol was sold on the side of the road in bottles. Now there are two gas stations and several remaining roadside stands with bottles of various size and shape. I’ve been reading about the inflation of gas prices in the USA and I know it’s painful. We are paying something like $6 a gallon here, just in case that makes you feel any better when you pull away from the pump.

It was an odd feeling being at a crowded gas station and yet being the only car there at the time. It took quite a bit of coordination to get the car properly lodged in the mob in the proper direction only to realize that we needed the diesel pump that was standing in peaceful solitude about forty feet away! Since I am still new here and I don’t often buy gas, Claude’s help was a true blessing. While Claude went to talk them into giving me a receipt I noticed a painted sign on the side of the building just beyond the gas station. “House of Diamond Trading PEACE OF CHRIST”

This sign exemplifies the irony of a Christianized culture overlapping with the trade of commodities precious in the same lands that sent the missionaries. Diamonds have value in industry. Yet most everyone’s first thought when they hear “diamond” is a cut and polished stone gleaming in the jeweler’s window. It has been said that they are not nearly as rare as once thought. I’ve heard that their market value is held artificially high by international corporations that stockpile them to prevent from flooding the market. Don’t get me wrong, diamonds are beautiful little rocks when they are cut and polished, but they have precious little to do with the peace of Christ. Here they are more likely to be associated with wars of greed.

It is not easy to take photos here. I snapped that picture discretely. Two young men then walked over to me to hassle me about it. In many countries it’s a general rule not to take photos of police or military. Here in Congo it is illegal to take photos of “public buildings”. This is often loosely translated into an opportunistic reason to punish foreigners for taking any photos in public. Police can use it as a reason to confiscate the camera or impose fines. This is part of why there aren’t more photos on my site.

I am able to take photos at work or church or of people that I am associated with here. I will do my best to safely and appropriately take pictures and post them to the site. As much as I love photos, I always want to be conscious of what social risks and harm can come out when the camera comes out.

It’s universally rude to take portraits of people without asking them first. Undoubtedly some here have had westerners come take their photo or film them only to find out years later that the photographer went back home and won contests or was paid handsomely for their image. The idea of a stranger snapping my portrait is disquieting to say the least! Still this morning at church, someone did it to me. I’m looking forward to days that are coming when my presence here won’t be quite as much of a novelty.