Back to the Congo
DRC Blog | 9th November 2007 | Democratic Republic of Congo
War Child's field director in DRC recalls a flurry of lost bags, corrupt officialdom and frustration on her journey back to Congo.
Back in Kinshasa. Every time I’m home I wonder why I do this to myself. I start worrying about passports, baggage allowances and loving home and friends and family. . .
It’s always fine when you arrive. The first breath of humid air, banter with the airport immigration men who tend to be ok if you give them a big smile and call them Papa, the football stadium pitch of the baggage reclaim, full of boys trying to “carry” your bags...and then seeing the staff again, and the bright colours, and the general confusion. I remember I love this place.
Interesting flight back. Arrived at Heathrow at 4.30 am Tuesday to find flight cancelled. We were routed via Doha and Johannesburg. Instead of arriving at 6 that evening, it was midday the next day. A lot of grumbling in the queue – not from us. Of course this happens. It may look like Heathrow, but we know we’re on the way back to Congo. What do you expect?
Vaguely sanguine about the experience until we got to Jo’burg and were told our tickets weren’t valid, that we’d have to wait two days to go, that the flight closed at 8 and the air France offices only opened at 8. My sense of humour took a slip – it was 4 am UK time for the second day. Fortunately my friend Franz is much better at negotiating and taking on officials than me, and at 8.35 we were sprinting through the airport, lap tops flying, catching the bus as it drew out. Bags – currently missing: what can you do?
Arguing with officials is a skill here. Kat has been doing a sterling job. Administrator in the Congo is probably second only to Logistician in oxymoronic jobs. She’s been out black-mailing the corrupt inspectors, with tears and angst and “how can you do this to us when we’re trying to help” to reduce the fine that they inevitably find a way to make you pay. She finds it all very depressing. Sadly, and probably because she’s shielding me from the frustration, it just seems normal to me. And I swore to come back from holiday positive.
