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.

How these Sisters are foster and adoptive mothers, good ones at that - August 29, 2012

I had lunch with the Salesian Sisters at the Provincial House on a Wednesday. It was very nice. I got the chance to listen to them share stories about their work, their lives. It is always enlightening for me. I have heard from some of the girls how they regard the Sisters, especially the one or ones they are closest to as family. Those girls who don’t have parents, neither Mom or Dad or no Mom, usually end up in the care of the Sisters and many stay until they can be on their own.

 

I recall talking to Mathilde about it when she told me about her pending engagement party. I asked if she was inviting or expecting family to come to the ‘presentation’ but she told me that Sister Hildegard is her family and that is who she is expecting. Mathilde has neither mother nor father. I have been blessed to see the girls who have grown up with someone stable in their lives and are now ready to leave the nest and be full-grown, contributing members of society. I have also seen the little ones who struggle to find that someone.

 

At lunch that day, Sr. Josephine talked about Rebekka. Rebekka is a small child about two years old, round face, cherubic cheeks, bright eyes with pools of black, a generous smile, she is round, bubbly and a little chubby. I always saw Rebekka when Sr. Josephine came from Sanga Mamba to Café Mozart for supplies or to visit. Every time Sr. Josephine was there, so was Rebekka. All the girls loved her, she is such a sweet and alluring child. Shy at first, but friendly. It took her a while to acclimate to the Austrians, she cried at first because she hadn’t seen white people before, but then she got used to them. I hadn’t heard her story before, but at lunch that day Sr. Josephine shared her story.

 

Rebekka came to the Sisters at Sanga Mamba, starving and malnourished, beaten and abused a year ago. A relative dropped her off one day. She was a skinny thing then and looked the part of the starving child and didn’t say a word, she was very young, but either extremely shy or too traumatized to say anything. Sr. Josephine talked to the Sisters at the table and I sat right next to her so I heard her story first-hand, though in French. At this point, I had spent 10 weeks in Kinshasa so my comprehension was very good. I heard words I’m familiar with working in child welfare:  abuse, maltreated, traumatized. Unmistakeable even in French.

 

Sr. Josephine explained to us as she had to the relative that they don’t normally take in such young children. Children come to them to attend school and live there as ‘internes’ when they are old enough for school five years old or thereabouts. Rebekka was very young. Sr. Josephine was reluctant to take her in at that young age but couldn’t refuse, the child was young yes but needed someone to take care of her and raise her. How could Sr. Josephine say no to that? So she took her in and became her adopted mother.

 

Sr. Josephine was at the Provincial House in Lubumbashi for a week, and told us that she talks to Rebekka on the telephone every day while she is away and that Rebekka calls her ‘mama’. She is surprised now that the child is talking so much and tells us about it because when she first came to Sr. Josephine she didn’t talk at all, not one word. But after time with Sr. Josephine, Rebekka began feeling comfortable, safe and loved. The last time I saw her before I left Kinshasa, she even sang for me ‘bon anniversaire’. What a sweet child! It is always hard to imagine that someone would abuse such a beautiful, innocent, little child, but they do and it can’t be explained or understood. I am grateful and happy that in the DRC the Salesian Sisters are there for these girls, especially the littlest ones. They are sisters to some and mothers to others.

On how art is a reflection of the artist and the world they live in - July 26, 2012

I got the chance to hang out with the girls on a Sunday, we ended up taking a walk to the Academie des Beaux-Artes, which is not far from Café Mozart. I have passed by it in a car but I didn’t realize it was so close. We took a little walk, me and 2 young women and 3 little girls. Nous faisions a promenade a l’Academie des Beaux-Artes ou les artes et sculptures restent ici. Even the walk was fun.

It was really nice, there were sculptures galore just as in Rodin’s garden in Paris. I took lots of pictures at both sculpture gardens, especially of the sculptures I really likes. “The Kiss” is one beautiful sculpture, so passionate, Rodin quite exquisitely captures two lovers clearly enamoured of each other in an embrace at the moment just before their lips touch. You can feel and sense the tension there. I quite enjoyed that and had more time on my own to reflect on the art. I’ll go back to Beaux-Artes and reflect, it was beautiful but sad also, at the same time there were concrete and stone sculptures of moms cradling babies (made me wistful), there were also sculptures of war and abuse, army men with guns one poking someone in the back in a menacing way, a man beating a woman. Tortured. The arts speaks for the artists who are Congolese who have been through something. It was beautiful and sad and I’ll go back another day on the weekend.

Walking along side the road I am struck by a gallery of another kind, for some strange reason I haven’t figured out the word for garbage, but the gallery of plastic bottles that are littering the landscape surrounds me and I am struck by it. I took pictures surreptitiously with my cellphone. The plastic bottle is the only piece of garbage that stands out among all other garbage because it refuses to be obliterated like the pieces of paper mercilessly crushed by passing vehicles and trampled by feet. The plastic bottle withstands all pressures and remains, flattened but intact, perhaps missing its lid but unbroken.

History ain't nothing like the present - Paris to Kinshasa - June 23, 2012

Paris has been fun, a good test of my French skills and my ability to manage in a somewhat foreign environment. One might wonder why I detoured to Paris en route to Kinshasa. Moi aussi, yet there are some great incidentals along the way.

Incidentally, while in Paris I visited the Musee de Quoi Branly, Europe's largest collection of Oceanic peoples, Asian, African and American first peoples history and culture. It is referred to as the collections of 'non-Western' cultures. I began my history tour of the museum with the Pygmy people of Papua New Guinea and finished with the Chilean people of Chile.

Along the way, I saw artifacts and history of the food, lifestyle, dress and culture of the first people of many cultures including Congo, Angola, Haiti and Vietnam. I feel like I learned stuff about a history many centuries old, as much as you can from dead people's stuff. (Shrug). I also saw that one of the largest collections came from one Western European doctor who brought back to Europe all the "gifts" the people had given him. I had my misgivings about the number of funeral staffs and pyres that were on display. I appreciated seeing them in the museum, but wondered about the ethics of uprooting someone's culture and heritage in the form of their tombstone so it could be in a museum. Hmmm, that is a debate that I believe rages beyond this blog.

While I learned about the people of Congo and the Yoruba culture (in Congo and neighbouring African countries), it has only whet my appetite to learn more about the culture and heritage of Congo from those living it today. Just like studying French language and history. Going to the museums is fun, but it is a damn-sight removed from the France of today, which is more complicated and diverse than the revolution would suggest. I have attended two churches this week and I keep remembering that getting rid of religion and religious hierarchy was a tenement of the revolution. Hmmm. Yet, Paris and many other parts of France boast the most beautiful and largest churches with strong congregations, the language is built around religion. With as complex a history, or more complex and diverse some could argue, (but each person's and country's history is relative and unique), the Congo of today may be far removed from the Congo of years past that I saw reflected in the museum.

I realize that not many people get the opportunity to visit a country different or 'foreign' from their own and live the culture, heritage and history of that place by living among it's peoples. Most of us are limited in our experience of other cultures through museum visits and what we learn on the internet or from a library or the media. I am grateful for this opportunity to live another culture and experience another life, another lifestyle by living among the peoples.

I hope I can give back to others what this experience will give to me. I only wish more people took the chance and the opportunity to be somewhere else and do something else.

It's official and my journey has official begun

"Project Africa: Giving/getting back 2 CULTURE" is the name of my project. I named it last summer when I first committed myself to a missions/volunteer/service thing, I called it a year of service. Though I will be giving three months of my time to a VIDES (www.videscanada.ca) project in Senegal, I've committed to realizing a year of service to my community in a variety of forms.

Friends have heard me talk about this for quite some time. My friend Nancy said of me, "It has been MLGs dream for a number of years to give of herself through service overseas and, in so doing, to bear witness to her faith as well as continue to grow as a person and deepen her spiritual life." Right on! That is it exactly.

I’ve been exploring many opportunities to do more in my professional career and in my volunteer efforts. I found a program through VIDES to volunteer abroad, participate in community building and work with people on projects that would improve the life of the community.

I know that it will be a challenge to live in a foreign country, culture and language, but I am ready for the challenge. I will be going to a French-speaking African country, it would be too easy if I went to a country where they spoke English as I already know English. Duh!

The +plus for me is that I will also be able to share my culture and music, learn another culture and a language that is important to my familial French Creole heritage. Finally, I will be immersed and can share some of the Cantiques de Noel that I have learned over the years.

"Giving/getting back 2 Culture" is about giving back to the community, getting back to roots and sharing talents and time with others. My VIDES trip will take me to Africa to help a Salesian ministry provide education opportunities to children and youth and supports to their families. I am raising funds to support this ministry. I've set up an online account to collect donations, am organizing fundraisers, asking for cheque donations to VIDES Canada and am inviting all my loved ones to support the mission.

How can you help?

Spread the word - follow this blog online - http://MLGsVIDESmission.blogspot.ca, tweet about it and add the hashtag #MLGsVIDESmission or #MLGsVIDES or #MVM

Donate - send cheques of any amount to VIDES Canada, amounts over $20 can be tax receipted, cheques are made to VIDES Canada and sent to Sr Jeannine Landry, 178 Steeles Ave East ON L3T 1A5

Donate online - http://www.indiegogo.com/MLGsVIDESmission from now until May 29, 2012

Support the fundraisers - Show up and bring friends to MLGs fundraisers - upcoming events are May 20, 2012 and June 10, 2012. Check out facebook for more info.

Pray - your prayers for me on this journey are appreciated and for the community I will serve.

Thank you in advance for all your mental, emotional and financial support!