House-hunting in Congo

I’ve never had to house-hunt before; my options for lodging have always been pretty straightforward. Not so now that I’m married! Espérance and I have been renting the annex at another mission’s compound and this has been an excellent transition point for us, but ultimately we’d like to find a house and actually set up a home of our own. Thus has commenced my very first house-hunting experience.

In spite of my lack of experience, I have a sneaking suspicion that this process works slightly differently here in Brazzaville than it would back in Salem, OR. First of all, unless the house you’re looking at is in the forest, in the US you would never question the owner about whether or not his house has running water and if the electricity comes regularly! I’m currently evaluating whether running water is a non-negotiable for me or not…

Second of all, the process of actually locating a house that is available is quite different. If you want, you can hire an agent to take you around and show you houses. But you have to pay them for this each time and there might be 5 other agents showing 20 other people the same house. If you’re lucky enough to know someone in the business, you can just pay their transport and only give them money when you actually get a place. Otherwise, you have to just get a hold of inside information about when a house is becoming available. But you better act fast or someone else will snatch it up before you.

We’ve taken the semi-passive route of waiting for the information to come to us. So as of today we have seen a total of 2 houses in the past few months. The one we saw today is posing me a decision-making problem.

Pro: the floor plan is good for us, spacious rooms, 3 bedrooms
Con: it needs a lot of work to fix everything that is broken, missing, or dirty
Pro: most of what needs to be done we can pay them to do and they’ll take it out of our rent
Con: the location is not super close to where I work, adding at least 20 minutes each way to my commute
Pro: the location isn’t as far away from my work as a lot of other places in town and it’s close to the market where I shop and on a good bus line
Con: the water only comes out of the tap at night and never comes into the kitchen
Pro: I’m already accustomed to taking bucket baths and there are several options for rigging systems to make the water more convenient
Con: investing in fixing up and making a place home when you’re just a renter and will leave it all behind eventually is kind of a drag
Pro: it’s got plenty of space for the kiddos, so we could end up staying there for a number of years without needing to see something else
Con: What if there’s something better?
Pro: What if we don’t find something better and I regret not taking this place?
What do you think?

This is where I would park my car

This is the front gate

This is the spacious living/dining room

This is the stinky bathroom that they desperately need to clean. The shower is ridiculously tiny, but otherwise it's nice with all the tiling.

This is the master bedroom. Walls are being repainted white.

There are also two smaller bedrooms

Here's the front yard

This is the kitchen. I would need to use our wedding funds to purchase our fridge and stove and everything

Leaving home and going home

Yikes! Less than two weeks until I leave to go back to Congo (via Germany for a few days). A common question I get is "What do you miss while you're in Congo?" or "What can you get here that you can't get in Congo?" Here are a few things off the top of my head:

#1 is obviously time with my family and friends. This is really the only thing that could possibly bring feelings of regret. I'll never say "Gee, I wish I hadn't spent all those years in Congo when I could have been back in the US with high speed Internet and lattes everyday." But the time spent away from special people is time that can't necessarily be made up for later. Plus, giving up luxeries and conveniences is a personal sacrfice, whereas familytime is something I force others to give up as well.

That said, high speed Internet and lattes are probably one of the first things that come to mind when I think of what I have to go without in Congo. That Internet connection over there is going to be pretty painful after these last few months.

The variety of restaurants and cuisine from around the world will also be missed. No Thai or Indian in Brazzaville. But I've pretty much had my fill and will enjoy visiting my favorite places back in Congo once again.

Listening to the radio, especially Christian stations, in the car is something I really love too. The excellent tradeoff, however, is that in Congo I get to attend lots of live concerts, mostly either Christian or jazz.

Wearing socks and regular shoes and jackets and layers has been fun the past few months. Not sweating is definitely a highlight of being back in the States as well. Although I am looking forward to the warmth of Congo (especially once the really hot season is over in a month or two).

OK, gotta run pick up my Indian take out!!

You know you're from Africa when...

Apparently there’s a Facebook group called “I’d Rather Be in Africa.” I don’t have to join such a group because I still live in Africa and can simply enjoy being in my country of origin for a while without too much pining away. But they’ve got one of those “You know you’re from Africa when…” kind of lists and I thought I would comment on a few of the items (there were like 100 things on the list, so I’ll spare you the details; sorry it's still a bit long).

You know you're from Africa when...

...you're appalled that American grocery stores only sell one or two different types of bananas.
Um, I’m not so bothered by the lack of variety so much as how big and too perfect they are. They look like they’re grown inside, not on trees. The taste leaves a little to be desired as well. One funny thing about bananas in Congo is they’re a little smaller than ours and you’re expected to eat more than one. I don’t know, bananas always seemed like a one per serving kind of fruit to me.

...your parents yell at you for forgetting to use silverware in public.
Well, that hasn’t happened yet, but I have caught myself using my hands a lot. I’ll pick my food up with a piece of bread rather than use a fork :o)

...you find all the non-white people on campus so you can be a minority again.There is indeed something unique about getting used to being the minority and I definitely zone in on the black people around.

...black outs are nothing new to you.
It’s funny when you get used to blackouts and suddenly you find yourself sitting in the dark and everyone just carries on with the conversation/choir rehearsal/whatever you happened to be doing. I was wondering where I was when we lost power a couple of times during the snowstorms at my sister’s house. Thought I’d left that in Congo!

...no running water for a day is just another ordinary thing
Unfortunately, yes. If it goes longer than a week it gets a little rough and we all lament the loss of the use of the washing machine.

...The smell of freshly rained on mud paths/tarmac is comforting.
This has always been true…I’m from Oregon.

...being an hour late equals being "on time"
Duh! 7 is 7 until 7:59!

...Cramming 7 passengers in a 4 passenger taxi is really not a big deal.
Certainly not.

...you know never to question what you're eating (even if it does taste good), cuz sometimes you just don't want to know.
My teammates always said this, but I’m not a believer. Hence, they both ended up with monkey on their plates before they knew what it was!!

...you invite people for a get together at 7 and they all come at 9.
I don’t know why this still catches me off guard. I mean, 30 minutes I can understand, but 2 hours late? Seriously? Sometimes it’s been very beneficial when the meal wasn’t quite ready yet!

...you keep converting the value of things in your home currency when u see the dollar value.
How else would I know if it’s a good deal or not? :o)

... you have another name in your home language.
Yep. Mikembi.

...someone is riding their bike down the road with corrugated iron strapped width wise across the back of the bike and its taking up more than half of the road.
And this would be Mike, our construction guy. He’s American but he loved pulling this kind of stunt.

...you've been proposed to while walking down the street
Just take it as a compliment

...You unwrap all your gifts carefully, so that you can reuse the wrapper.
I’ve always been like that, nothing new.

...Nobody in your family informs you that they are coming over for a visit.
If you love each other why should you need an invitation? It still usually annoys me. I have a lot to learn.

...You only make telephone calls at a cheaper rate at night
Is this why people call at midnight and 6am? It’s apparently not rude to wake someone up with a phone call (or by any other means), but that doesn’t really make me like it any better!

...you learn the native words for "white person" everywhere you go, because you hear it shouted everywhere you go.
Sure ‘nuf. I swear children learn to yell “mondele” as one of their first words.

...something that would normally take half an hour in the Western world takes a few days or weeks...and if it didn't it just wouldn't be fun.
I don’t know about the fun part, but things do take a lot longer. Going to the PO feels like a major accomplishment and doing the grocery shopping truly is!

...you find it completely natural to have burglar-bars outside your windows
Naturally. And a wall. And a guard.

...you can smell the rain before it comes
I’m not sure about smelling it, but you can certainly tell it’s going to rain. It gets dark all of a sudden and the wind picks up. The darker and the windier, the harder the rain will be. Oh, and you can hear the thunder in the distance.

...you can look up at the sky and see every star clearly
And here we see what? The moon and venus…

...the sunset is something to look forward to
In the village, yes! I always felt exhausted from the heat and cultural exertion and knew I could hide away in the dark. Going to bed at 8pm is quite easy there!

...you miss the sound of rain on your tin roof at night, the after-rain smell, and the spectacular lightning shows.
Ah yes, the lightening shows! Love it. I like the thunder too that makes me jump out of my skin.

...you always drink your drink straight away in front of the shop, and give them the bottle back.
Of course. Although the store on our street knows us well and we can take bottles cos they know we’ll bring them back.

...instead of being greeted with "good morning", you're greeted with "Are you awake?"
It’s always strange no matter how many times. The bad part is when they say it while you’re still trying to sleep!

...the rain back "home" feels cold.
I’m FREEZING right now as a matter of fact.

...you learn quickly that pedestrians DO NOT have the right-of-way
The thing that ticks me off is when they speed up and honk, scaring the pants off me, rather than slowing however slightly my crossing the street might have necessitated.

...you prefer music that's slightly out of tune
And distorted

...b.o. is a comforting smell
Strangely true. But there’s definitely a limit. Some b.o., yes; unwashed clothes, no.

...you reuse plastic throwaways
We re-use our zip-locks again and again…and then realize we’ve still got boxes of unused ones.

...$2 is too much for a t-shirt
My shopping mantra: “It’s not close enough to free to tempt me.”

...you get culture shock in a grocery store, when you see the shelves completely stocked with 15 different kinds of whatever!
Menus do it to me too

...When there's no electricity, you're in bed by dark and up at sunrise.
By dark? Not exactly, since on the equator it’s dark by 7pm. But when there’s no power there’s only so long you can read by lamplight.

...you dreaming of a red/orange/green Christmas instead of a white one
This year was my first Christmas home in 3 years. It was fun to be with family, but we got this out of character for Oregon snowstorm and had to delay the events. We won’t be dreaming of a white Christmas for quite some time!

You Crazy Americans

Whenever I come home after an extended time in another country it's fun to do a little anthropology on my own culture. Here's a few quick observations I've made so far...

--Rushing, rushing, rushing! Sheesh people! No body's rushed me in over a year, so I'm a little befuddled by all this hurrying and scurrying and worrying about being 5 minutes late. In Congo you say you'll be somewhere at say 10. But 10 is 10 until 10:59, so you can be almost an hour late and not be late at all!

--I'm not used to the kind of interpersonal relations we get with servers here. My waitress tells me her name and asks how I am! Congolese waitresses, a la francaise, kind of look like you're bothering them when they have to come take your order. Americans are hyper friendly when it comes to customer service.

--America is fat. Sorry folks, them's the facts. I'm used to twiggy Congolese bodies. And it doesn't take a genius to figure out why...we eat JUNK!!! When was the last time you actually had several servings of fresh fruits and veggies in a day? The Congolese diet isn't healthy either (sometimes the fish is actually floating in palm oil, the veggies are cooked to death and also floating in oil, fruit although it's falling off the trees all around isn't eaten much). But in our little missionary community I think we eat exceptionnally well--cooking from scratch, using lots of fresh fruit and veg, avoiding expensive snack foods, eating a lot of well-rounded home cooked meals. There are perks to the missionary life!!

--You can get stuff done here. Going to the PO isn't a major event like it is in Congo. You can get a week's grocery shopping done in an hour at just one store. The indoor temperature is perfectly adjusted for optimal comfort and productivity. I can get just about anywhere I want to go in my town in 15 minutes in my very own car. Woowee!!

I love this girl

"I'm the only one who is allowed to mix languages."

"Why?"

"Because I'm living in a language cocktail!"

--Theresa, my German housemate who is currently only speaking English, French, and Laari.

Meet my friends

Having Congolese friends has been one of my biggest goals, but it's also one of my biggest challenges. First it's hard to find the ones with whom you have a lot in common. Then you have to find ways of building up the relationship and you have to learn to communicate in their language and in each other's ways of expressing friendship. Some things are universal, but other things are not, or are at least expressed differently.

I have to choose to not be offended when people ask me for things or when they show up late, because I know that they are not being rude, they're just acting in ways that are normal for them. Sometimes I wonder how many ways I'm seeming rude to them too and don't realize it because I'm just doing what's normal for me as an American. For example, I don't often think to ask about their families or about their health, which are basic ways of being polite and expressing friendship here. When I think of how much grace and patience it takes for us to navigate a cross-cultural relationship, I'm amazed that I have so many friends here! Thanks God! Please help us!

This is Geritte and Esperance. They are 2 of my favorite friends. We laugh a lot together and have good discussions about God and our spiritual lives. We all enjoy music and singing and learning new languages.

My Congolese Self in America: #2 Church

OK, it must be time to talk about Congo some more. Unfortunately my biggest disappointment in coming back to the States has been church. I just haven’t found the fellowship and worship I was looking forward to. The first Wednesday I was home I went to the evening service at my home church and didn’t know anyone! I went back to the youth group and didn’t know anyone there either! So I ended up leaving early simply because I didn’t have anyone to sit next to. So where does Congo enter in? Well, I’ve been shocked at how many services and different churches I can go to without ever being introduced! (Although there have been exceptions!) I was so used to Congo where when a person comes back from a trip or when a minister visits from out of town, they get a minute to give a report or they are at least greeted from the pulpit. It’s a really big deal for Congolese and I’m used to getting acknowledged quite a bit in church over there. On the other hand, there’s something nice about being able to go to church here and NOT be noticed! :o)

It’s also odd going to church here because it doesn’t feel natural to me anymore. I’ve been to a lot of different churches this summer, but everywhere I see all the cultural traditions we have, rather than just joining in like I used to. I feel like more of an observer than a participant in our huge concert-like services. I notice how nice our buildings are and what elaborate sound systems we have. This is disappointing because I was looking forward to being back home where I wouldn’t have to be distracted by cultural issues in church!

I hesitate to write this entry because I really love a lot of churches here and believe they are doing just what God has called them to. I don’t want to sound like I’m bashing the American church. I’m not, I’m just saying how I see it through my Congolese eyes. I think this is a pretty common experience for missionaries who come home.

I guess if I were really Congolese I’d have a few other things to say—like “People! Get up and move when you sing!” :o) The Congolese would love to hear our beautiful worship songs, but ultimately I think they’d prefer their own music. If I were Congolese I think I’d be very jealous of all the wealth that the church here enjoys and I’d probably ask if they could spare something for the church in Africa! All of the churches I’ve visited are VERY giving, yet I don’t think a Congolese would see that when it’s obvious that those churches still enjoy a great amount of money for themselves. Our wealth and living standards are just so foreign to them.

So I’m left with knowing that even if no single service or church building is going to completely make me feel at home, I’m on the road to my heavenly home and I can get a taste of it no matter where I am when I’m in Jesus’ presence and with His people.

My Congolese Self in America: #1 Transport, Time, Etc.

So people keep asking me questions like “So has anything changed since you came back?” “What’s it like to be home after living in Congo?” Some days I think that nothing has changed at all (after all, it was only a year and a half that I was gone) and other days I feel like I’m on a foreign planet. It’s my perception of things that has changed more than any real change here in Oregon. I want to write about it and describe what I see to you, but I think I’ll have to do it in several installments. Here’s installment #1. Pardon me if I ramble.

It’s funny the things you notice when you come home from a country like Congo. You notice things you never noticed before. Our neighborhood streets are REALLY wide. And they’re paved! Having a car gives you a lot of freedom, which makes life a lot more complicated because there are so many people you can zip over to see and so many things you can zip around to do. In Brazzaville the bus only stops at so many locations, you know? But we still never seem to be able to get where we’re going fast enough. In America being in a hurry and being busy are quite virtuous.

I’ve found that I have a bit more of a cushion of time now. A few minutes doesn’t make a difference to me anymore, so sitting a little longer in traffic or being stuck behind a slow truck doesn’t stress me. Being 10 minutes late is no big deal at all, whether I’m the one who is late (which I usually am) or whether I’m the one waiting for someone else. It stresses me out that for people around me those things are big deals. I’m like, How can you expect someone to be on time right down to the minute? In Congo you make appointments by the hour. If you arrive at 10:59, it’s still 10 o’clock!

I wear a button on my purse that says “I (heart) Congo.” I think it gives me a sense of identity and unity within myself. Like I can drive around this frenetic town and still be the girl who lives in Congo. When I feel like I come from a different planet, I can just point to the pin and be like, “Yeah, I know I’m weird; I just got home from Congo,” and that seems to make sense to me and everybody else.

Home Again Jiggedy Jig

Greetings from beautiful Oregon!

Time has flown by these past 2 weeks in the States. I was the Maid of Honor in a wedding 5 days after I got home, and I'll be a bridesmaid in another wedding this coming weekend, so that has kept be quite busy, but it's been a great opportunity to see lots of old friends.

I was greeted at the airport by my family and friend Carrie, complete with big posters and balloons. It was great.

I'll have to start blogging about all the things I've noticed since coming back before they become commonplace again. I was commenting to my mom today about how ridiculous our very wide paved roads seem to me now. It's awesome being able to drink tap water again. I pretty much only want to listen to Congolese music. I miss the solitude/alone time that I had in Africa, which is funny 'cause that was one of the things that was hardest for me to get used to there. Shopping is pure bliss here.

More later.

What Congo Has Taught Me #1

I’ve been realizing lately that I’ve learned a lot of important lessons in the past year. Many good things have come clear to me on account of the stark contrast between the Congolese culture and my own. Overseas living is good for that; you stay in your own culture and you think everything is normal, when in reality there are things about it that aren’t good. Here’s what Congo (mostly the Congolese people themselves) has taught me:

#1 There’s no need to be embarrassed about your body. People here will be like “Hey, you’ve got pimples on your forehead. What’s causing that?” I’m like “Excuse me? Just leave me alone!” But for them it’s not something I need to be embarrassed about. If you’re short they have no problem making fun of it, or you will even make fun of it yourself. If you’re fat it’s just a plain fact everybody can comment on. Some of the things they say about people I find quite insulting, but on the other hand just to be open and honest about bodies is rather refreshing. They simply aren’t embarrassed of their bodies. Here’s a passage from “The Poisonwood Bible” that I really enjoy:

“The lady in the little house that’s pretty close to ours is Mama Mwanza. One time her roof caught on fire and fell on her and brunt up her legs but not the rest of her…Mama says that was the poor woman’s bad luck, because now she has got to go right on tending after her husband and her seven or eight children. They don’t care one bit about her not having any legs to speak of. To them she’s just their mama and where’s dinner? To all the other Congo people, too.

“Used to be Adah was the only one of us in our family with something wrong with her. But here nobody stares at Adah except just a little because she’s white. Nobody cares that she’s bad on one whole side because they’ve all got their own handicap children or a mama with no feet, or their eye put out. When you take a look out the door, why, there goes somebody with something missing off of them and not even embarrassed of it. They’ll wave a stump at you if they’ve got one, in a friendly way.

“Father said, ‘They are living in darkness. Broken in body and soul, and don’t even see how they could be healed.’ Mama said, ‘Well, maybe they take a different view of their bodies.’ Father says the body is the temple. But Mama said to him, ‘Well, here in Africa that temple has to do a hateful lot of work in a day.’ She said, ‘Why, Nathan, here they have to use their bodies like we use things at home—like your clothes or your garden tools or something. Where you’d be wearing out the knees of your trousers, sir, they just have to go ahead and wear out their knees!’”

The Guinea Fowl and the Lion

Lion and Guinea Fowl had been friends for many years. One day, Lion was chosen to be king of the animals. Lion sent one of his children to share the good news with his friend Guinea Fowl. Lion also sent word that he needed to wear a crown decorated with guinea fowl feathers. And so Guinea Fowl was asked to give all his feathers for the king’s crown.
Guinea Fowl was embarrassed and frightened by the request. But what else could he do? He couldn’t refuse. So, with the help of his wife he plucked out all of his feathers and brought them to the king.
As a result, Guinea Fowl was very sick for a long time afterwards, and his family wondered if he might even die. But, little by little, his feathers grew back and he recovered. Over the years Lion and Guinea Fowl remained close friends. One day, Guinea Fowl’s son became very ill, and the only thing that could cure him was a lion’s pelt. But where in the world could he find a lion’s pelt? All of a sudden he remembered his friend Lion, the king.
So Guinea Fowl sent word to Lion to see if he would help them. Poor Lion was embarrassed and frightened by this request, but how could he refuse someone who had demonstrated such close friendship in the past. So Lion began to skin himself... and died in the process.
This story shows us that we should never ask something of a friend that might cost them their life.

My colleague Trista got this story from her French tutor (who was also my Lingala teacher) and after a half hour of discussion with him, she concluded that the message of the story in a Congolese man's eyes is that it's good to ask your friends for things, but you shouldn't ask too much. This is a very good thing for us to know because people are ALWAYS asking for things and it can be really annoying. But if we understand that to them it's acceptable and appropriate, we won't be so offended about it. So far no one has asked me for the skin off my back (although I have been asked for my hair!) so I guess we're doing OK.

Things people ask for include: taking them to the States, helping them find an education program (abroad or by correspondence), food, money, medicine, English lessons, phone credits, something you're wearing that they like, bus or taxi fare, etc. The person asking could be your best friend or someone on the street. I generally don't give anything to people I don't know (families are big here, they should be asking their relatives if they're really in need) but managing friends' requests is a little harder. If I follow my African colleagues' example, I will help people in need whenever I have the ability to do so. I am like a big sister to all my jobless musician friends so it's my role to help them out.

But it's not always easy to accept. Imagine if your good friends started coming to you all the time asking for things! You would get mad or feel used. It's the same for me except I have to tell myself to interpret it differently. Sometimes I succeed and sometimes I don't. But I'm learning.

re-entry

I have made it back alive. I feel like I should be wearing a shirt that says "I survived Ouesso" on it. I have a whole journal of fieldnotes, bursting with interesting stories to share, but for now, I'll just say: I was there, it was hard, it was good, now I'm back.

Re-entry is interesting. You know there's something a little odd when Brazzaville feels like the lap of luxery. My apartment seems like a palace! Here are some contrasts between Ouesso and Brazza
Cement floors/Tile floors
Perspiring 24/7/Sitting under a fan
Waiting for someone to make me fish and manioc over a coal fire/Making myself a grilled cheese sandwich at the gas stove
Bathing in a cement closet with a bucket of cold water/Taking a hot shower
Squatting over a hole/Sitting on the toilet
Africans all around/Often with missionaries
Lingala/English
Books/Friends
Walking/Buses and taxis

OK, I'm starting to fall asleep. It will be incredible to sleep in my own bed. My housemate is awesome and I came home to a clean room--fresh sheets, no dust, she even did my laundry and folded my underwear! Yay Sabine! It's good to be home. Oh, and I had Christmas in March. The first of my packages arrived, from my mom and sister. So what if they were supposed to get here in December, it was perfect timing :o)