“A-eh Marie-Lauren!” and how that greeting started and evolved – August 29, 2012

Just by being here you have an impact. But you never know what that impact is or how it feels, you just know you are here to be with people, to show them you care, to help, to lend your skills, to do whatever it is that you can do. I didn’t realize my impact or influence on the girls until the night of Bijou’s wedding.

It all started with Katey. I don’t know why, I don’t think it was because I am Canadian, I don’t think anyone here knows the universal Canadian ‘eh!’ and I am 99% sure I didn’t use it here because I was speaking French instead of English, but you never know when it is ingrained as it is. It may also be that is how Katey talks. One morning, it began very musical and rhythmic “A-eh
Marie-Lauren!” and I replied with the same melody “A-eh Ka-tey!” and so it went. Every morning and then every time we saw each other, “A-eh (name)!” It became like a greeting and salutation all in one, it reassured the other that everything was all right, spirits were good, one’s health and happiness was intact enough to say ‘hi-howareyou-Imfine” all in one word.

Even if Katey was in serious conversation with someone or with others or if she was busy working, if she saw me she gave me her great big smile with all white teeth against her rich ebony skin and that familiar greeting. I knew that everything was okay with her, I replied signalling all was well with me. Even if I wasn’t feeling right, slightly out of sorts, lonely or misunderstood, hearing that greeting from Katey lifted my spirits and reminded me that
everything was alright in the world because I was with people I cared for who cared for me.

It started almost right away, week one for sure if not day one. It was an unusual way for me to remember her name and for her mine, but it worked. It spread to the other girls as well. They challenged me to remember their names as well. I did. I had to write down over 60 names on a tiny piece of paper and after two weeks I had them all. And then many weeks after, when there were new girls at the school beginning their training and formation, they heard the greeting and joined in. They were new to me and I hadn’t room in my head for more names so I replied with just an “A-eh!” One of the girls challenged me, she told me her name was Lucie and that she expected when she greeted me with “A-eh Marie-Lauren!” I would reply with “A-eh, Lu-cie!”

I was shocked, surprised and slightly embarrassed in a good way that the girls all knew this greeting at the wedding. I looked good, dressed in a short pink-striped dress that I bought with Matilde at the Grand Marche, I did my hair and makeup and my nails. I was quite a sight. Even Sr. Hildegard commented on the length of my skirt. They are such real people sometimes I forget they are nuns. I am looking good and I am just sauntering to my room to freshen up after dinner and before the dancing begins. I was seated early so I didn’t get to see all the girls before dinner, but I have to pass them on my way out. I was totally caught off guard when to my surprise instead of a hi or hello, ‘salut’ or ‘bon soir’, there is a chorus of “A-eh Marie-Lauren!”

Every girl there that I knew gave me this greeting, and if they were slow to join in the chorus, they added their greetings like an echoing wave. Oh my! It was fantastic. Way to make a girl feel special! I’m not normally shy, but when you are centred out like that it can be a bit overwhelming. It may have been my imagination or not, but I’m sure everyone heard that greeting cause I think a chorus of 46 or so girls can be pretty loud. I didn’t even look back as I left to see if heads turned, I imagine they did. (Pictured here is me with Terese).

Those girls were so nice to give me that attention. I had tried over the 10 weeks I was at Café Mozart to give them mine. I see that they returned the favour. Much appreciated.

The wedding and the dancing – August 24, 2012

The wedding of Bijou and Salvatore was fantastic! They had a civil marriage in the afternoon followed by a fete at night. It was the second ‘mariage fete’ I attended but this one I looked forward to very much because I knew Bijou and Salvatore and knew their wedding would be fantastic. It was held at Café Mozart, outside under the African night sky, a new moon and a few stars. (the picture is taken when the happy couple returns from the civil ceremony)

I witnessed the traditions of the ‘Congolais’ and am awed, again. I saw a few of these traditions at the wedding of Serge’s brother Alfred a few weeks before and now the images are cemented in my mind. At the entrance of the bride and groom, the newly married couple there are the shouts and chants and greetings of welcome. Once they are settled there is the presentation of the gifts. It is like the receiving line that I am familiar with where you greet the bride and groom with the appropriate salutation, the women greet each other cheek to cheek to cheek (three times) and the men greet the women the same way, the men great each other temple to temple to temple (three times). You hand your gift to the bride whose matron or maid of honour or marine (God-mother) takes it and holds securely. After this is the first dance of the married couple. While they take to the dance floor, guests come at them with wads of cash in hand and throw it at the couple like confetti, some people throw the money with flare and pizzaz, some tuck it in the pockets of the groom or the bosom of the bride, depending on how well you know the couple I think. The petites scramble to pick up all the money, usually ‘Francs Congolais’.

Then the dancing begins. Other couples, married or engaged join the newly married couple on the dance floor. At this was Bijou’s wedding, Matilde and her fiancé joined them as did Engenie and her fiancé. Then later there was the food and the eating, it was very good. I did my best to not overeat but there were so many things that I enjoy eating it was hard to resist. There was the ‘chiquang’-made of manioc/cassava solely, fried plantain, salted fish ‘poisson sale’, chicken ‘poulet’, the greens ‘pon du’-made of the leaves of the manioc/cassava and much more. Then the cake came out and there was the cake cutting ceremony, by this time, almost everyone is up dancing so the cake serving is interrupted. While I'm dancing, I noticed a young girl has her cake in hand and is eating it while dancing, I try the same. It doesn’t work for me and I have to take my pieces of the groom’s chocolate cake and the bride’s white cake back to my seat, where I share it.

After this, then the dancing begins in earnest. I dance with Bijou and she is as good at it as I imagined, she dances really well even in her big wedding dress, I hope I can look as classy and sophisticated as she does at her wedding at mine when it comes. The best part is that the wedding took place at Café Mozart and everyone from Café Mozart was there for the dinner and the dancing, even those few who had to work the event. All the girls who I had been practicing dancing with were there, some changed their clothes from their dresses into comfy yet stylish pants for the dancing. All the women I had worked with and talked of going out with were there and we danced together still. It was really nice that all the girls were there because this was their family’s wedding, Bijou is like their sister and the Sisters are like their parents so of course, they all attended, all 46 of them. A rather large family.

How can I not feel guilty – on visiting the beautiful waterfalls at Zongo – August 21, 2012

The price of rooms for a night can be as high as $500US. Seems astronomical in a place where the value of a Franc Congolese to a US dollar is 930FC to 1$. One cannot mistake the beauty of the place they call Zongo. ‘Nous avons visité les chutes de Zongo. C’était très beaux.’

The trip to Zongo was well worth the four hours and one pit stop along first paved and then dusty, bumpy roads. The view of the falls was well worth the arduous and treacherous climb up and down steep rocky places and slippery rock faces. As I heafted myself up large steps over huge rocks and wondered if they knew that people older than 20 visited this place. There is an expectation that you be somewhat fit to manage the hike to see the spectacular falls and bathe in the natural shower, ‘le douche naturelle’.

I managed somehow even though I keep reminding myself that my 36th birthday is next week. Sometimes I feel old surrounded by the teenaged girls at Café Mozart and the 20-somethings Austrians. But then I see Sr. Hildegard taking the same steps and hiking herself up and down the same treacherous steps with a smile. I have only a little grey hair in comparison to Sr. Hildegard so I feel better and more motivated to continue along.

It was more than beautiful. It was stupendous. We climbed first down and down to see the
caverns at the bottom, then up and up and up to see the top of the falls against a beautiful blue sky. We climbed down a little lower to take more pictures and see the falls from a different angle. Then up again a bit to stand in the mist and be drenched. It was a gentle shower, hundreds of tiny droplets cool against skin warmed by the sun. I was smart and wore my contacts instead of glasses or as in any rain shower I wouldn’t be able to see through speckled glasses.

It was an amazing experience and I’m so glad I got the see the natural beauty of Africa. Being in the city of Kinshasa is very different from experiencing life in a small African village. We had a marvellous time with our packed lunches of sandwiches and drinks at the side of the river before it becomes the falls.

I can’t help but feel a little guilty how much this trip can cost. Knowing that some people, from NGOs or the UN or the government or other tourists, can spend $100 to $500US to stay beside the falls for a night at the resort at Zongo, when the trip here takes you through what looks like poor villages where the children put out their hands and shout ‘l’argent’ or ‘moneee’, puts the reality of the DRC at the forefront where you realize the divide between the rich and the poor
is as vast as this country. It is still hard to realize and accept that there are street children, children living on the street, while this countries riches include diamonds, gold and other precious metals. Such is life?

Upon realizing these girls don’t have family, some don’t have the bonds that are essential for normal growth and development – August 7, 2012

I was very sad yesterday. I don’t know if it was the malaria pills or the tiny cold I had that’s making me sensitive, but I cried deeply for the little girls.

We had visitors from Sanga Mamba yesterday, they came with the Sisters, ‘Les Soeurs’, and stayed for most of the day and left in the evening. When they were leaving at 8pm that night, the littlest one bawled and you could hear her cries from inside the café while she and the others piled into the truck outside to go back to Sanga Mamba. I think she made friends with the girls here, reconnected with the ones who are staying here from Sanga Mamba, and didn’t want to leave them or us. It made me so sad to hear her crying.

Many of the girls here are from Sanga Mamba so when the Sisters visit, all the girls run to them with screams and shouts and give them big bear hugs. So many of them are attached to the Soeurs, their foster moms. They need to be. I think the Sisters ‘Soeurs’ have enough love to raise all these kids and keep them in their hearts. I think it is good that some women can be devoted and committed to that life and be foster moms to so many children who need them.

Sometimes though, a few slip through those arms and are without attachments. As we watched the girls playing in ‘le salon’, the tv room for the Sisters that all the petites are welcomed to hang out in, we noticed some things. The littlest one who bawled upon leaving is 2 years old and receives much of the attention because she is the littlest and for now, the cutest. Then there is Ma-do, who is five years old, sassy and cute and she knows it. When the littlest one is not here, Ma-do is ‘le plus petite’ and gets all the attention. Then there is Sarah who is like a middle child. She is neither the youngest not the oldest of the petites nor has she found a way to be. Sarah is ‘metis’ meaning she is of fair complexion and mixed. They called me ‘metis’ here also when I first arrived. I have explained the double meanings of ‘metis’ here and ‘Metis’ in Canada. I’m Trini
and thus mixed so yes, like ‘metis’ but maybe different. Definitely, there is ‘shadeism’ here as there is anywhere there is difference even if it is slight, but I don’t think that is troubling Sarah as much as being in the middle.

While the littlest one was getting all the attention, Sarah was writhing on the ground, playing all kinds of zany tricks. Last night, she pretended to be blind with her eyes squeezed tight and reached out to grab the littlest one by the arm or the hair. I wasn’t sure what this was but I had seen it before, I’m not a social worker so I hadn’t done the analysis. Two of the Austrians volunteers are social workers so sometimes we have chats about social work and child protection. The other times I had seen Sarah act out was when Ma-do was getting all the attention for being cute and Marina, the oldest of the petites, had a running joke with me where she would try to ‘mange mon corps’--nibble on my neck and I would tickle her. It was Marina’s and my thing, but Sarah was also trying it out, trying to fit in. Sarah hasn’t found her own thing as yet.

Yesterday evening, Julia remarked to me that Sarah acts out because she doesn’t have a close attachment to any one person. Julia has noticed that Sarah acts out, rolling her body all over the couch or the floor, doing all kinds of arm-flailing to get some attention even if it’s negative attention. Oh, how my heart ached for her and for all the girls. Then I remember that I’m at a
boarding school for girls that is more like a foster/group home for children and girls who don’t have families. I cried from the depths of my heart.

Some do have the familial attachments, some have gone ‘home’ to Grandparents, God-parents,
aunts, uncles, sisters, brothers and a few to parents for their vacations. Some have no one and no place to go. Then I realize that so many of these children and girls do not have a mother-father or mother relationship. They, and we, rely heavily on the Sisters to provide the guidance, discipline, love and affection that 50-odd young girls between the ages of 5 and 18 need.

In my work in Toronto, Ontario with child welfare, we have long preached that children fare
well in a family-setting. Children need the bonding and attachment of one family or one stable adult in their lives. Here I see what happens when that is not the case. I cried, not for myself, but for all the girls who don’t have a family or a close attachment to one. They are again stronger than I for I have that attachment and can’t imagine my life without it.

Later on I witnessed something entirely different. The next night, Sister Yolande called all the ‘filles’ downstairs to say hello to the Sisters from Sanga Mamba, who had returned for another visit though brief. There were such shouts of glee and joy and laughter. There were hugs and kisses, strange handshakes and jumping on backs and lifting people up. Even the Austrians got right into it. When I saw the girls hugging each other even after the Sisters had gone I realized that they at least have each other. They have family of a different kind. For that, I am entirely grateful.

La musique du Congo, the music of Congo--only a sample, just a taste – July 31, 2012

I have experienced some of the music of Congo and of Africa but only a little. J’ai ecoute la musique du Congo et d’Afrique mais un peu seul. As they say here, ‘petite à petite’. I’ve been invited to the night clubs but will wait a bit before I go out, it would be nice to go out with the friends I’ve made here and to see how the Congolese socialize and dance.

In the meantime, I’ve been to the Fikin – amusement park for children – and watched and listened to a couple concerts with live music. I’ve been singing with the girls here a little, learning some music and teaching some. Little by little, I’m experiencing Congo.

I went to the ‘Fikin’ with the Austrian girls. The sons of a friend of Sister Hildegard invited the girls out and there was room so I got to go along also. We managed to fit nine people in the SUV; there were the five Austrians, plus me, the two sons and one of them’s girlfriend. This was the closest the Austrians have gotten to the experience of transport in Kinshasa. We passed taxi vans filled with people on our way to the ‘Fikin’ and I explained, and they could see for themselves, that there were five or six rows of people in the van knee-to-knee and knee-to-back. The vans have five or six, more often six, wooden benches secured in the van for easily 24 people or 30 people. Transportation is cheap here though so 500FC or $0.50 is not too much to pay for convenience if not for spaciousness.

At the ‘Fikin’, we watched two small concerts. At the first concert people were seated and more relaxed and the host invited children up on stage to dance. I joined with a chair dance when the DJ played ‘Chop my money’ and all the littles danced on stage and we all danced in our seats. We remarked that we could easily imagine the ‘petites’ at Café Mozart on the same stage. (I was glad for the break to be out on my one day off but I was wistful thinking about the girls being able to enjoy the ‘Fikin’ also). At the second concert everyone was standing and moving to the music, it was gospel music so more dynamic and exuberant. Even though I don’t understand the words the music is beautiful.

But the most fun was learning a song from the girls on Monday night. We sung together last week sometime and heard the girls sing “Lord, I lift your name on high” in English, French and Lingala and we all wanted to learn the song in Lingala especially. After dinner yesterday, some of us gathered in the courtyard and sang a little and talked a little. The lights flickered and went out. Of course, the chorus of ‘oohhs’ ensued plus a few ‘oh nos’, but for the most part we just chilled and enjoyed the moments in the dark. My eyes got used to the darkness pretty quickly because the moon was almost full and thus very bright so it wasn’t really that dark. “What do you do when the lights go out?” one of the Austrian girls asked. I don’t have a good answer for that but I’d rather chill and hang out with people than stay in my room in the dark, because the only thing I can do there is sleep. We just chilled and hung out, sang a bit, talked a bit. The lights flickered on and then off again.

People kept asking me when I would be singing. I love singing but this was a command performace that I hadn’t prepared for. Noella told everyone that day that I would serenade them with Alicia Keys’ “No one” at night. My French is not that bad but I’m pretty sure Noella and I talked about ‘on va chanter’, as in ‘we’ will sing. Earlier that day for the English class, Noella and I translated “No one” together. In the moonlight under the Kinshasa night sky, I sang one line at a time and Noella gave the meaning in French.

Sometimes I forget that she is a teenager. It wasn’t until someone made fun of how she delivered the chorus in French that I remembered she is only seventeen. The chorus is “no one, no one, no one-un-un-unnh” in English; Noella spoke slowly and without much emotion, ‘Personne. Personne. Personne.’ rather matter-of-factly. These are words she is saying, not singing, and it was incredibly funny how dead-pan was her delivery. When someone laughed a little and remarked how flat Noella gave the ‘personne’ part, she got mightily offended and feigned annoyance. It was hilarious, I couldn’t help the situation at all because I continued to laugh, but I would bury my head in my lap so it wouldn’t seem that I was laughing at her. In her broken English, which must sound a lot like my French, she says “You make fun of me! I not sing for you no more.” And so it went. It was so amusing, we had to apologize and encourage her to continue with platitudes and graciousness. Teenage girls are so much fun!

Noella also led our learning of the gospel song, “Lord, I lift your name on high” in English, French and Lingala. A mountain of hilarity again with the teenaged antics. But we sang it in three languages. It was great to learn the French and Lingala with the help of Matilde, Vanessa, Crystal and also Lumiere who gave us the words and chords. I hope to come away with more music, language and culture and I hope to be able to give back more than I receive.

Playing in the dark - thank God the power finally went out - July 24, 2012

I know it sounds odd but I thank God the power finally went out on Monday night. It was going to be a usual night like any other, after prayers and dinner, I watch some TV with the girls in their verandah-esque open-to-the-outside TV/sitting room. I usually watch for a half-hour or so then it’s time for me to tuck myself in, 'je me couche'.

Monday night was different and how I enjoyed it! Sometimes after prayers and dinner I end up dancing with a few girls, even if I dance well they laugh. Sometimes they laugh because I catch on so quickly and it’s a surprise to them. My favourite experience has been dancing with them to “Sh’took my money”, which I think is ‘she took my money’, it’s a great and fun African song in English so for me it’s easy to understand and everyone else gets it as well; it’s a very popular song, I’m sure I’ve heard it everywhere I’ve gone. There are even dance moves and gestures for the song and everyone sings along. “Sh’took my money, sh’took my money, sh’took my money, and I don’t care, I don’t care, I don’t care.” (search on the web).

So Monday night I plopped myself on the couch as invited, “Marie-Lauren, assiez-toi,” but we were watching music videos and some people were already up dancing, then I was invited to dance also, they know that I can and I never refuse an opportunity for dance or to learn a new move. So now a bunch of us are dancing.

And then the five Austrian girls that are also volunteering for the summer and who arrived on Sunday night pass by on their way to bed, they are encouraged to come dance, because now it’s a dance party, not your usual TV-watching night. When everyone is watching tv, you can sometimes pass by, say ‘bon soir’ and be on your way. Monday night was different, there was no way you could refuse the energy that was in the air, it was infectious.

Then, all of a sudden, in the middle of everyone singing along to the video and dancing, the power goes out, and everything goes dark. And not just for a minute, because here in Kinshasa, in Gombe, the power is always on, if it goes it’s for a few seconds, or sometimes it flickers, but in the five weeks I’ve been here the power hadn’t gone out for any length of time. As in most big cities that consume a lot, conservation is a concept that is not practiced as much as it is preached. Even though the power could go out at any minute, people have air-conditioners and use electricity, there is work to be, done business goes on and here there is bread to bake. It wasn’t until the big power outage of summer 2005 in eastern parts of Canada and the United States that Canadians started to take electricity consumption and conservation seriously and were at first asked to use power more judiciously and then charged time-of-day rates to encourage conservation.

In the dark, there were shouts and hollers of ‘awws’ and ‘ooohhhas’ s if we were asking some
grand poo-bah to ‘turn the lights back on please, we were having such a good time’. The fun didn’t stop there. With cell-phones as flashlights, the girls guide each other, taking great care with the five new girls, down the stairs to the courtyard. It takes me a moment to join, I watch for a bit, take pictures from upstairs, it’s really fun upstairs because the flash from my camera is the only light in a sea of darkness. Then I hear my name and they are calling me to come down.

We begin with a game much like “duck, duck, goose” but the words are different and it’s a song everyone sings while they clap their hands rhythmically to the music. It’s enchanting and I wish I had recorded it because I can’t remember it now. It was really great to see the girls having so much fun without the amenity of electricity. I saw their leadership skills in action as one by one, they each took turns choralling everyone, instructing the game and leading us on an adventure in the dark. Katey, a young-ish girl who smiles lots and seems to me to be shy most of the time begins the song for the game. It is played, simply, it is played and we the outsiders, the volunteers, look on and participate. When a scarf is dropped behind you, you leave your seat on the ground and run around the circle of seated girls and women trying to catch the person who dropped the scarf to the music that is being sung while hands slap laps in an ever-increasing pitch and frequency. Once you make it back to a seat after you have dropped the scarf and run away from the person chasing you, the music begins afresh, slow at first then faster until the next person makes it safely to a seat before they are caught. Katey continues to lead the song throughout this game.

We then play a child’s game like “London bridge is falling down” but faster, in French, and with 30-odd women and girls the tunnel we create with outstretched arms seems very long. I hear a few of the words in French and my partner Matilde sings it clearly for me so I can sing it. We wind our way to the front of the building from the courtyard with that game. Then when it is finished because our arms are tired and no one wants to run through the tunnel anymore because we are not all little children, though there are little ones-'les petites', and our bodies can take only so much running while squatting, we race to the courtyard at the back and start a new game.

Sister Rosalie has come out with a light and a word of caution. She only speaks in French, but like everyone here she gestures so you don’t miss what she is saying even if you don’t understand the words. Sister Rosalie is in charge of the girls in the dormitory, that is her work. She reminds us that it is late, by now 9:30pm, and we have neighbours in the apartment building next door who
are not playing games in the dark and might like the opportunity to sleep quietly. Sister Rosalie is encouraging and walks around us with the light balanced on her head. It’s a thing here and everyone can and does it, sits, stands or walks balancing something on their head.

The last game is “le lyon appelles” and it is also played in a large circle. My friend Bijou the petite leads this game. Bijou is still recovering from the emergency surgery for appendicitis, it has only been three weeks or so, so she plays the games cautiously. I notice she plays the first game without the running, instead she does a slow but steady crouch. She directs the tug of war game because we wrapped arms around torsos to make a human chain and that would not be good for
people with abdominal surgeries. Bijou has a raspy voice, she is very intelligent and well-travelled, speaks English and has a fiancé Salvatore. Bijou’s voice is constant through the game. This one is the most fun, it is more thinking than running, and one has to concentrate. I’m out early so I join the others in the middle of the circle while the game continues. I attempt to balance the light on my head but only for a few minutes because it is straining, different and
new.

I’ve handedmy camera to Sonya who braided my hair a while back and she has taken pictures throughout. This is the kind of fun I’ve been hoping for but didn’t want to impose. The girls here work hard during the day and for most of them the only time they get to chill and relax is at night when the work is done and they can watch tv. So often, I’ve wanted to lead a game or a song and say something in French that is like, “Hey gals, let’s dance or sing or something!” but that would be me imposing my wants and desires and I’m here for them to learn from, listen to and encourage them. For me, this was another dream come true.

Sister Rosalie comes out when we finish the game to send us all to bed. It is now very late and we are all tired from the games, but we’ve had a good time and enjoyed the darkness and the moments it lends us. I stay up to chat with Matilde for a while about her fiancé and mine, and her upcoming engagement party. Matilde lets me practice my French and corrects and adjusts as needed. I enjoy hearing about the girls’ dreams and desires for the future, very uplifting for me.

Shall I wish for the lights to go out again?