Kinshasa…Where
Where I have
lived for almost five months.
Where almost
eleven million pairs of trampling feet move day and night.
Where there
aren’t more than six traffic lights in the whole city.
Where the
children seem to play happily in the filthy streets.
Where people
sell Kleenex and beg at every corner where the traffic stops to dodge other
cars.
Where older
ladies dress in Congolese garb and the young ladies dress in the tight fitting jeans of the 21st Century.
Where almost
everyone - rich or poor- has a cell phone to his ear.
Where blue
and white uniformed students share and switch schools at noon.
Where
traffic obeys no rules, slowly “flows” with no rhyme or reason-and yet, one
sees no road rage!
Where a
serpent shaped river separates the two Congos.
Where car
horns play a constant, single tone symphony twenty-four hours a day.
Where there are
old and/or empty buildings juxtaposed to new and modern ones.
Where I can
go to town and no one knows me except at a selected few grocery stores!
Where I am
in the middle of a Third World country that doesn’t even realize it still is one in so many ways.
Where people
come in every color -between the “colors” of white and black.
Where filth
from the street drainage ditches- used as a garbage cans- flows into the city’s
canals, on into the Congo River and then into the Atlantic Ocean.
Where
bruised from travel and over-ripe bananas, pineapples and mangoes sweet as
honey and baguettes in a bowl or eggs in open 60 count vat are balanced on a
head and offered for sale.
Where dawn
is greeted by many birds and dusk falls in a sudden fashion.
Where the
one good street is Boulevard 30 Juin and the other streets are guaranteed to be
a challenge to drive.
Where the
city is gritty in Dry Season and sticky in Rainy Season.
Where most
building and road construction work is done only by hand!
Where taxis
and buses ramble and rumble 24 hours a day.
Where those
who hawk their wares at The Market of Thieves will haggle for a price- until
both parties are happy with the deal!
Where people
with bundles on heads fight for road space with cars, other people, motor
bikes, bicycles, taxis, busses, wheel chair bicycles and push pushes.
Where at
night the city dresses in her fancy jeweled lights and for a few hours the
filth disappears.
Where people
of all stations of life “fight” for survival and many are in the same spot for
months- day and night- it is their home!
Where people
always greeted us with a warm smile and a hello in some language!
Where public
restrooms are just off the street-in the public grassy and plant areas.
Where
millions of workers pour into and then out of the city every morning and
evening.
Where ship
merchants, dealers of questionable items, non-profits, Embassies of the world, various
church groups and the UN all share the same city.
Where new
and old governments-peaceful or not-commence and end –for this country.
Where MPH
and her workers made our stay a blessing.
Where I was
able to “host“ and get to meet people from all over the world.
Where the
“fancy” restaurants and staff can rival any in the US- and prices were not that
different.
Where, if
you go to enough stores -and have on your Patient Panties- you can usually find
anything you want- or it is there next week after you have given up!
These are
the images that fill my memories as I think of the city where I spent one
special summer and fall.
I’ll never forget you,
Kinshasa!
No comments:
Post a Comment