On hanging out with a bunch of nuns and how real they are, how often I forget they are religious - August 30, 2012

Eating ice cream at the Don Bosco Service Station. It is late. Long after mass, and after chatting with people we knew, the six of us stopped to have an ice cream.

Church is a place where people congregate, hence congregation, and even I, a tourist, a visitor from Canada who is in Lubumbashi for only 9 days had a friend to say hi to. Imagine!

A young man came up to me to say “bon soir”, I politely replied but didn’t know the guy though he seemed to know me. He asked me in French if I remembered him, I said I was sorry, but no, I didn’t. He reminded me that he met me at Neema’s graduation fete at the Café Mozart. Ah! It was rather nice that he remembered me and came up to say hi. Everyone of the Sisters had someone come up to say hi, even me. I felt special but at the same time normal.

It was this feeling of normal that persisted. Sister Janet, Sister Justine, Sister Noella, Sister Florence, Sister Matilde and I hung out eating ice cream at the Don Bosco. There was I, chilling and hanging out with my new friends. We sauntered back to church because we heard the start of a concert and wanted to check it out on our way back. We quickly hurried to eat the ice cream, my throat was so cold in the cool night air. Everyone had been telling me how cold Lubumbashi would be, almost like back home for me they said. Ha! Not at all. I’ve been in much colder places. But after eating ice cream and standing outside I could feel it and little goosebumps appeared on my arms.

Once we were finished our ice creams, we said “au revoir” and “a demain” to Sister Janet and took seats inside the church for the concert. This was different from the concert at Sacre Coeur in Kinshasa my 2^nd or 3^rd week there. This had a beautiful chorus in a big old style church with high vaulted ceilings and concrete so the music was amplified naturally and with speakers.

After listening for a while, we left to go home (yea, home at Maison Laura, ahem – next door to the President’s house, the president of the DRC!). The walk home was casual and serene except for avoiding cars all the time. They engaged me in conversation, patiently awaiting each staggered sentence. I appreciated being included and it made it easier to speak that they had patience with me as well.

It was then that I noticed that the life of the religious is ‘normal’ so to say. I have enjoyed living among the sisters. They are really some of the nicest people on earth. We pray often. We eat together. The biggest difference between the religious and those who follow a different calling is that the religious are self-less. Everything they do for the other. There are great rewards in that life, beyond the feeling of doing good, and before the ever-after. In this country, there is respect for the Sisters, they are seen as sisters to everyone, as carers, they carry the country’s children, the poor, the neglected, the sick, in their hearts and in their hands. I am glad to call them Sister and friend.