Yesterday we took a trip downtown.  Mamma Helene had several errands, Dennis and Mary Francis wanted to go to the market and I needed to get some pictures developed for the women in prison and for the kids at Bakole.

We left early and I am amazed at how normal traveling in the Land Rover seems now.  It has only been five weeks, but sometimes it seems like I have been doing it forever. 

We went into a part of Kinshasa I have not been to before.  Kinshasa is a huge city.  There are new buildings being build everywhere and highway construction as well.  There are also many buildings that have been started, but perhaps the builder ran out of money and so they remain unfinished.  There are also many "hole in the wall" businesses.  If you have been to developing countries you know what I mean.  There is a long wall or building with open doors that lead into a little shop, which is usually small, cramped and many times dimly lit.  The owner will cram as much merchandise into the little room as they can.  Then you have the street vendors - they set up on the sidewalk or near the road.  Finally you have the vendors who walk up and down the street and make a sucking sound or click bottles together to get your attention - letting you know that they have something to sell. 

Everything takes a very long time here.  Receipts are written by hand and money is counted and recounted because there are not cash registers here.  Food is prepared from scratch so you finish preparing breakfast and do the dishes (by hand) and it is time to start the next meal.  Traveling anywhere is not easy.  The roads have large holes and drop offs that some cars bottom out going through them.  Some roads are paved but many are sandy dirt roads.   The public transports are old vans with the seats ripped out and wooden benches put across to get as many people in them as they possibly can.  The run with the side door open and a man collects the money and stands there to let passengers on and off.  You can also ride on the back of a motor cycle - which I have done both and I can say I like the cycle! 

It had rained yesterday morning the first time since the dry season began back in April.  The vendors sat under the same umbrellas that had protected them from the sun just the day before.  Because people use the drainage ditches for bathrooms sometimes the smell is overwhelming.  There is trash everywhere - they sweep the ground in front of their house or shop while trash lies around everywhere else. 

We went to a market where everything was displayed behind square panes of glass.  You chose what you wanted and a man would write it on a ticket.  You would then take the ticket to an opening in the wall and a woman would figure your ticket and you would pay for it, then move to the next opening when men in the back would fill your order and bring it to the window.  It was extremely slow and if they did not have what you wanted they would simply substitute something else for it - you have already paid for it remember :)

At the market everyone is your "best friend" and they will give you "best price".  People assume because I am white that I have lots of money.  I think I have heard about every story there is out there.  It did not take me long to be finished at the market so I went to sit out in the parking area by the highway.  I chatted with a few people and gave a young boy some money.  A man started talking to me that worked for the Immigration Department of DR Congo.  He was divorced and wanted to move to America - he noticed that I did not have a wedding ring on and wanted to know if I was married.  I told him no, but I was not going back to America I was heading to France!  Just then my ride showed up and I was glad to bid him good-bye.

It was getting very late and I was very tired and hungry (we had not eaten since 7:30 that morning.  I looked out the window as we drove.  There are people everywhere in Kinshasa twenty-four hours a day.  On one side of the street people were sitting outside singing hymns and covered almost a block  because there was no room for them in the building.  On the other side of the street was an open air pub and all the chairs were full playing the music loud as well.  Street vendors were calling out their wares, children were crying and horns were blaring. 

All of the sudden a question came to my mind - could I live here?  Could I get accustomed to the smell, the noise, the filth and never feeling really clean.  Could I eat the same things day in and day out and cook everything from scratch?  Could I adjust to not having a consistent source of water, electricity and Internet?   I could live without a good phone, I have done it for five weeks.  I really began to talk to God about the question - was it from Him or was I just thinking out loud?  I have peace here and I know God has worked through me in the short time I have been here.  But was He calling me to live here????  Maybe it because I know that I am leaving in a week and maybe it was just a thought. 

At any rate, I do not have an answer yet.  Maybe the timing is not right because I know I will be in France for at least a year.  I have had many people already talking to me about doing this or that when I come back.  A couple of people have called me Mamma Congo - whatever that means :)  Anyway, it was a sobering thought and one that I am sure will come up again and again in the next several months.  I am thankful for the people I have met here and I have a great respect for Mamma Helene and all that she has accomplished here in her part of DR Congo.  I know I have a lot to learn from her.  This has been quite a journey and it is only the beginning!