Kinshasa 1980

There is a song that was popular in the early eighties called "I bless the rains down in Africa"... I do not know, to this day who sang that upbeat tune, but I heard it after my first introduction to that continent. When I was still an undergraduate student at TCU, I met a young woman from Algeria, Yasmina, who was married to one of the younger history professors there. One day, as she and I were taking a study break, someone overheard us speaking French. And that is how I met three young pilots from Kinshasa who were just exploring the university library. One of them was a handsome young Jewish Italian guy and we ended up going out together. About four months later, he finished his pilot training and returned home, to Kinshasa, where he was living with his parents, older sister and younger brother. I was very much intrigued with the idea of visiting him, as one of my uncles, Frederick Minne, the son of Baron George Minne, who was married to my mother's sister Agnes De Cauter, had spent ten years in the then Belgian Congo near the Kivu Lake. I ended up going right around Christmas time, and remember all the vaccinations required, among them the quinine pills against malaria. I flew home to Brussels, spent a few days with my parents in my hometown, then took the flight from Brussels with a stopover in Lagos, Nigeria before flying on to Kinshasa. Nothing could have prepared me for the experience of the Kinshasa airport, which was loud, crowded, confusing. I was inundated in the local African language of Lingala, in the very bright pagne fabric of the local women, in the seemingly endless crowds of people, the foot traffic that was as busy as the car traffic, the overcrowded old army trucks, that served as very dangerously over capacity filled city buses, the relentless heat, the humidity, and young soldiers in green uniforms with shoulder guns everywhere I looked. It was 1980, still the hay day of the ruthless dictator Mobutu. The house my friend Salomon lived in with his family was big, very welcoming, very comfortable. His father had been the owner of a small and successful textile plant, that he now ran as a manager, since the government now owned all privately pre- 1964 revolution  owned businesses. His mother ran a successful deli-shop. Their cook was a local man, who cooked the best poached local fish I have ever tasted. There was also a small pine apple orchard on the family's estate, that had the sweetest fruit I ever ate. The first day I was there, I was in for a big surprise. I walked outside right after six, and it was pitch black dark. I was in shock, I had not realized the impact of being at the equator, where the days and nights are equal in length. It was very weird, and hard to get used to. Apparently, from what I was explained, it gave cause to a lot of excessive drinking to pass the constant very long, dark evenings and nights. Because of the heat, every one came home for lunch for two hours, and that always included a nap after the lunch. One of the first showers I took surprised me with the presence of a large flying cockroach. It was a good thing I was familiar with the non flying variety having spent already five years in Texas. That big,brown buzzing thing flying up at me in the shower is definitely something I remember. Another thing, visually, that stands out, is seeing rows of roasted monkeys for sale at one of the many local markets. A very pleasant memory is a picnic by the banks of the famous Congo River, seeing papyrus plants swaying in the breeze of the river's edges. It was a magical moment for me, because of the historical significance of the fabled papyrus plant. I also got my picture taken by one of the wondrous looking baobab trees, which Antoine de Saint-Exupery made famous in his story Le Petit Prince. I felt like some of the wishes I had made as a child werecoming true, just touching the edge of the marvels that Africa seemed to hold. I also saw despair, anger and poverty in the local African population, and I later learned that our King Leopold II was a genocidal monster with these people. My friend Salomon and I did not stay together , we were both way too young, but I will always be grateful for his father's gracious invitation to come spend a Christmas Holiday in the heart of Africa.