I'm becoming used to life here slowly, but small moments in the day highlight my American-ness, such as...
I am shocked when my 25 year-old hotel waiter from Cameroon tells me that he loves me. He's an adorable young man, but I had no idea he would write the message "I Love You" on a page of my legal pad. When I asked my Congolese co-worker, Andy, who lived in America for many years, he explained that men here do such things. Andy told several of his friends that it would be considered sexual harassment in the States. We both laughed at the cultural divide.
Walking to the French Cultural Center on Thursday, I saw a dead dog that had been rotting in the heat for a good long time if smell was any indicator. The dog was on the sidewalk, so I walked in the street.
A student came to talk to me tonight and told me he hadn't eaten in two days. I gave him money and a banana. He fled the DRC for political reasons four years ago. After we finished talking, I did some research on how to apply for refugee status. I don't know how refugees who are truly destitute and struggling in English understand the application process when it took me some time and online research to sort through the steps.
I found the Societe Asia store today and spent time browsing through the aisles of imported goods from China, Singapore, and other Asian countries. I can buy feminine hygiene products and Dove soap produced in- and imported from- China if I so desire. Most Congolese wash their clothes by hand, so laundry detergent for machines is only available in certain shops. I did buy two small bags of OMO laundry powder at Societe Asia because French laundry powder (for a machine) is more expensive than Chinese OMO.
I bought nail polish remover at a small shop run by a Lebanese shopkeeper, and there was no information on the bottle other than polish remover written in French and English and the name Melisa. I wondered what company had produced the nail polish remover. Why was there no ingredient list? I was concerned because information I considered essential on a product's label was missing. Was this product approved for use by anyone?
Meetings and group activities are not always planned in advance, so often lunch doesn't happen until the poorly planned events are finished- which could be at 2:30 or 3 o'clock in the afternoon. I don't look forward to learning about an important event several hours before I am asked to attend it. My adrenaline and dread levels spike rapidly when I am informed of such meetings or activities, but I am working with my self-awareness tools to change that bodily response. Part of the reason my dread levels shoot up is because the Congolese dress code is much more more formal than my own nation's expectations of attire. I immediately wonder if my dress will be acceptable to the minister of other "expert" I will be meeting in less than one hour. Are my shoes clean? is another question that comes to mind. Watching men in dusty suits cleaning their shoes with napkins multiple times a day on the dirty and sandy streets of Brazzaville where the leather or suede will only be soiled again in no time is a mini-visual of how the country works.
An American mind at work in Brazzaville!
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