A room with a view
-day 20-
from my korean textbook: on the night that a traveller has lost his way, he looks
at the night sky and figures direction. when there are no stars, wood is chopped
to check the annual rings. south and north ward direction can be figured by
looking at the annual rings. the problem is that there are times when we can't
figure life's direction.
in the lebanese supermarket i found all the ingredients to prepare yakisoba,
the fried noodles i ate every other day a year ago. everything is imported, so
it is even more expensive than back in london, and it does not taste half as
good without the company. saturday afternoon i decided to go for a walk around
the block; bad idea. those garbage dumps along the street smell very unhealthy,
dirty birds look for food, occasionally some people too. they live in a hut made
of plastic bags under a tree, cooking on open fires in the city centre.
i walk past the chinese embassy and check out a series of photos on display outside;
-how change in dress reflects social progress in china- from aristocratic costumes
to executive miniskirts. ideology is surely not dead yet, but here in congo politics
are driven by other forces. these days congolese politicians are discussing the
future of their country at a conference in south africa. for an entire week they
could not start the talks because one party insisted that some groups were not
represented. then it was reported that one group had sold some seats to people
who were interested in the generous daily allowances participants receive. today
i heard a discussion on a local radio station whether the congolese musicians should
be represented as well, because they are the true voice of the people. i do not kid
you.
so i retreat to my apartment in the evening, put on some gypsy music and my thoughts
escape. i work myself in sweat doing my laundry in a big washing basin, and giving
the floor its weekly wet sweep. i guess it is good to perform these humble activities
after being called -chef- or -patron- during the day. i read about mobutu and how he
institutionalised kleptocracy, starting out as a gifted idealistic young man, but
then was sucked into -the heart of darkness- apparently conrad meant to describe the
dark side of human nature with this phrase, and not the primitive africa as it is
often interpreted.
the safe zone as defined by the UN security office is roughly an area of one by
three kilometres along the main boulevard. we are advised not to leave this zone, especially at night when soldiers harass cars at checkpoints. i remember thinking
of wide open african landscapes two months ago when my friend sangyeon and i were
listening to that africa song by toto played by the house band of my favourite bar
in seoul. i guess i will have to do with the river view from my balcony. all people
who have been here for a while tell me the good days are over. sometimes i start to
think i got this job because nobody else wanted it. or maybe because the belgian
government sponsors 50% of our project, although the embassy did not seem to remember.
Tom Tobback © 2002