We're talking serious poverty, the type you breeze past on melodramatic adverts here; with families feasting solely on a loaf of bread for the week, kids running barefoot through s**t on the streets, shacks instead of houses. But beyond that I still found more natural beauty (from the people to the surroundings) in the African country than any UK monopolised metropolitan city. And from the 10,000+ words I came back with (scribbled down shorthand in a small dusty pad), I felt the need to portray this side of the DRC - how they live and strive on, less of the sob stories and more of the success (though admittedly much easier said than done with the war and corruption in the country), and what we need to be doing here to assist their hard-fought progression. This is the first brief report I wrote for Ctrl.Alt.Shift, very early into my trip:
Postcards From The Edge: DRCongo
Sunday November 1, 2008
Seven days, 33 degree heat, 4 villages, landslides, invasive geckos and consistent rude awakenings = 1 trip to remember. Bear in mind we are only half way through this experience, I have had a pretty substantial taste of the Congo. It's the people, the culture and their mentality that has opened my eyes, and in more ways than one.
On first glance, it is hard to see kids bare foot and walking 6km to school, mothers strapping their babies on back selling plantain attached to their heads, countless young men sitting on the side of roads contemplating over what to do next...poverty and strife comes in many forms...
But please let’s not be patronising.
Two nights ago the tiny village of Nkandu welcomes us with tradish Congolese food, dancing, fables around a fireplace with shooting stars in the sky...call me soppy, but it was pretty freakin great. Such sentiments and warmth has been recurring aspects in Congo. The majority has infectious smiles; they love their country, their people, those who want it work hard, they don't complain, they have astounding faith and welcome us outsiders with open arms and a plate of foo foo.
The package looks damaged, but the inside is golden.
I wouldn’t even dare look down on these people, as some evoke such happiness and belief than seems too much of an effort back home. Do I envy their aura? I guess I do a little. Do they envy my smoking, drinking, clubbing lifestyle? It seems not so much.
Of course this is just my perception, but the Congolese folk have humbled my preconceptions of being another Westerner with all the right answers. We obviously have a lot to learn too.
As Felix, our amazing Congolese translator said:
“In your eyes of course we look poor. But in our hearts we are richer than you can imagine.”
The link to the article is here
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