Why, the Congo? You may ask!

Just a little over a week ago we trekked from seemingly calm and peaceful Rwanda to the Democratic Republic of Congo. Now, Goma, the town we visited, is a complete war zone as the rebels have invaded. People of the town have been evacuated and peace workers have been relocated. We left Goma in the nick of time as it is now declared a war zone.

The day trip to Congo was a spontaneous decision. Once we realized we were only 20 minutes from the Rwanda/DRC border, our adventurous sides led us to plan a day trip to Goma. We had no idea what we were about to see. Not only has Goma been a victim to the intense corruption in the DRC but it is also set at the bottom of an active volcano which has destroyed the city on numerous occasions. When we arrived at the border and got in line for our visas we were immediately whisked away by the head immigration officer and taken into the back office. Being a country of francophones, I struggled communicating but luckily my friends spoke French and were able to translate. We quickly received visas, a shiny certificate proving our trip to the Congo, and were told that the Congo was so lucky to have three beautiful ladies visiting. Everyone at the border seemed confused as to why we would possibly want to go to such an undesirable place. But that didn't stop us and we literally walked across the border into Congo where everything was different, including the color of the dirt. The entire city was black and covered in ashes as a result of the erupting volcano. It really felt like walking through death as there were crumbling buildings, non-existent houses, non-existent life. The only color that could be seen were the vibrant textiles for sale and worn by the women, tightly wrapped around the women holding in place everything including their babies on their backs. UN tanks lined the streets with the soldiers holding machine guns pointed at the road. I didn't feel scared, I felt sad and uneasy. The three of us walked straight down the road for about two hours, not uttering a word to each other, simply observing what seemed to us surreal, but was reality to all the Congolese living in this disaster. Eventually, we reached the extensive local market and entered the maze of goods, stepping over chickens, weaving in and out of aisles lined with everything from bowls of flour and sugar, to mountains of second hand shoes to an array of skin lightening creams. We found the textile section which was the largest and had stalls after stalls of beautiful, bright, deep, rich, patterned fabric. After various sessions of bargaining, we left the market all of us having bought some fabric with intentions of making pillows, dresses, etc. We had, had enough and decided it was time to sit down, process, and eat. We pushed our way back out of the market and hopped on three motos (Congo's version of bodas/motorcycle taxis) and went to Le Chalet, a restaurant recommended by a friend. When we reached the restaurant we couldn't believe that a place so luxurious, green, and posh could exist in this city. We ate on a terrace overlooking the lake as UN planes soared over us, vibrating the table. After a nice lunch, we suddenly realized that maybe we should ask what time the border closed. We were informed that at 6pm sharp the border would close. It was 5:15pm and we quickly payed our bill and hopped on three motos and literally sped through the Congo, weaving in and out of traffic praying we would make it in time. At the last minute, I decided I just had to have a Congolese mask. I redirected my moto with 7 minutes to spare, hopped off, grabbed a mask, threw money at the salesman and jumped back on, now zooming full speed to the border. We made it and were so happy to be back in Rwanda.

When returning many people asked, "Did you like the Congo?". Like is not a word I would use to explain my experience in the Congo. It was extremely interesting and quite a bit of a reality check. I still think about how I felt walking down that road in Goma, it didn't make me feel fortunate or lucky to have come from a "better" place but just made me think about how everyone's reality is so different and how important it is to see that in order to understand how the world functions. I do feel lucky though that we left Congo when we did as very easily we could have been in the center of a war zone.