We had a great evening visiting our friends with the Congo/Belgian connections. An evening in almost 100% French (a few anglicisms thrown in of course for ggod measure). Well at least we call it French – more Belgian actually since we alll like “nonante” and “septante” better than “quatre-vingt dix” and soixante dix”.
C’s parents from the Congo are visiting them for three months. He was a company doctor for one of the mines down in Lubumbashi. A quiet dignified man. His wife is a lot more like C – full of life and talk. To folks from Lubumbashi, we were from the bad area of the country- Equateur- Mobutu’s old territory. Relates back to the massacre of students that took place in about 1988/89. (you can see I am a historian – not!) But we got over that quickly.
I discovered that C and I have a lot more in common than I thought. Sometimes well educated Congoleses women can be very pretentious. Not C. She has the same approach to housekeeping as I do and we all sat around the kitchen table to visit – like most Saskatchewan farm families would.
Fernand introduced Leo to some local poison. I think it was a bit toooo strong for Leo. He took a sip and almost gasped. Diluted his coffee with it and then it seemed to go down OK. Guess who drove home!
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I have to say that I’m amazed that you’re going there – I really did read all the way through that post about Congo. It sounds like a situation of desperate need, but you’re astonishingly trusting to do it.
I know there are dangers but for me it feels most like going home.