Settling into evening here, and I can't get over how burnt out I feel. I knew it would be challenging, but I didn't think I would be this exhausted. Today was my first of six days as John's assistant and translator for our seminar on conflict resolution here at U.C.-KIN (université Chretien de Kinshasa).

In what I have come to know as "standard Congo time" (due usually to minimal planning and poor transportation), we started our first class about an hour late. But by the end of the class I was thankful for that extra hour. I was even more thankful for John's patient, conscious effort to speak slowly, clearly, and using words that I could easily translate.

Thankfully we had worked for a few hours last night at translating some of the more complex ideas, just as we did again tonight, so that I would already have the key terms. But even with this level of preparation I found myself straining mentally to maintain a decent flow, loud enough voice, coherent pronunciation, and an accurate transmission of the message being taught.

Wow, what an experience. I have to say, I'm glad I've been using my french as much as I have in the last couple of weeks, particularly in translating the somewhat more technical language of elections and election monitoring, in addition to being the quasi-official translator of the Winnipeg group of international observers.

Conversationally I can say that I have improved significantly since leaving Winnipeg... that said, my french is still pretty bad. There's nothing quite like that pained look of desperation on my listener's face when either my pronunciation or choice of words has completely failed to convey anything intelligible. Luckily (as long as they weren't all being excessively polite to their visiting instructor) everyone seems to have understood me today.

Tomorrow we continue the first of two sections, developing some more concepts of interpersonal conflict, which we will finish up on Friday. Next week is when I get my real challence, as I will be teaching a session on my own on human rights. Hardly the expert, I will try to draw on my knowledge to provide at least a basic understanding of a topic far to broad to be covered in a small portion of an even smaller seminar.

...

As for other plans...

I met with the administration of the national music school (just walk in, it's that easy!) who put me in contact with the head of their drumming department, and on Saturday I will be studying traditional drumming under the Congo's top drum instructor, Papa Commandante (!). He assures me that he will help me find a great drum to take home to Canada although (he sounded concerned) it might cost as much as thirty-five dollars. I think I can live with that. So, as I promised myself, I have found not only a drum teacher, but the head of the national music school's drum program to teach me, AND I will soon have my own Congolese drum.

and Finally...

Tying up the end of my trip, I have about five days to myself, or with Michael, after John and his wife Nel leave us, and I've been pondering what to do with this time. Originally I had been planning on finding my way over to Mozambique to visit Jared, but this is seeming more and more difficult, and so less likely (sorry Jared, still trying, though). I have, however, started to work out a plan B.

Last week we met an absolutely amazing woman named Georgette who runs an orphanage with 54 children, with absolutely no outside help. We went down to the orphanage to meet with the children and to see their home, and I fought back the tears from the moment we drove up.

as we left the van we heard the joyous sounds of a gaggle of children singing loudly and cheerfully. Much of it was in Lingala (the local language), but some words we could make out, borrowed from French. Much of what I heard were songs of hope, and faith, and belief in Jesus and his power and such. To hear these hopeful, happy songs coming from these children shook me. To look at them I felt a horrible guilt, as if I'd just stepped in to a World Vision commercial; but instead of some sad-looking celebrity asking for my money, all I saw were happy children singing, and welcoming us to their home.

I commented to Georgette that the children have so much spirit, that it's more than I see in most people anywhere I go. "Oh... Well," she said, "they're usually more energetic, but they haven't eaten today."
(Gulp)
Well... with some of my remaining time I was thinking of volunteering some of my time to help Georgette and the kids, even if it's just as simple as helping them carry water on the half-hour trek they make every day. Maybe I can play with the kids, help with some cooking, or cleaning. I don't really know, but I can't imagine one woman working with 54 children is short on things I can do to help.

We'll see if that pans out. I'll keep you posted.

-joel