My seven day planned visit to Kinshasa became twenty-two days. I went for some work meetings, for some dirty Kinshasa air, and most importantly to arrange a visa issue. The visa wasn’t resolved at the Congo immigration office as quickly as we’d been told it would be and it wasn’t wise to return home to Kisangani undocumented. I always have to consider the extremely remote possibilities of political insecurity or appendicitis or some other tragedy which could require me to leave the country quickly.
Congo has taught me volumes about patience, this episode included. The staff here in Kisangani did a great job minding the store. I was working from Kin, in touch with them every day. About halfway through my absence, they started letting me know it was time to come home. I felt the same way but anyone who has been through this kind of thing knows that visas are a part of your life where nations have much more power than individual citizens of the earth.
The upshot is that I got to work closer for a time with my colleagues Peter, Nate, Pascal and other great people on the Kinshasa staff. I got to work with some interns learning about rural microfinance in village savings and loan associations. I got to swim and play several games of volleyball at the American school there. I enjoyed a sliced salami and cheese sandwich most workdays with Peter. I ate yogurt. There were ups and downs just like life out here, but it was a massive change of pace, unplanned and not asked for in such length- but I am very grateful nonetheless. I’m thankful to Nate and Peter for their hospitality.
Sometimes when we came home on the weekend a whole troupe of neighbor children would stream into the yard running and jumping, singing and playing games. These are some of the cutest kids on the planet. Right in the middle of one of the world’s largest cities - choked by dirty air, widespread poverty, and failing infrastructure of all kinds, these kids hold court and joy abounds.
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