Crazy Experiences

You know those things that happen to you and you just think this is the kind of things that happens in movies but not in real life? It’s funny how hilarious they are in a movie and unfortunate in real life. I’ve had a few of those recently.

I needed to mail something and well this is Congo so I couldn’t unless I went to Zambia. I decided I would go just across the border to Chingola stay one night and come back the next day. I left Likasi early in the morning on a bus. I picked a full bus which was great because I didn’t have to wait an hour for it to fill up with people but it was horrible because I got a bad seat. They use plastic containers used to hold beer bottles as a seat and it is in no way comfortable. About half way there the bus broke down well sort of. It ran hot. Of course the driver didn’t bother to bring any water so it took some people 30 minutes to go find water fill a container and return. My makeshift seat had to be removed to get to the radiator. I was forced to stand in front of the other passengers as the driver filled the radiator with water. He then started the car and the steaming dirty radiator water exploded all over me. I was soaked and burnt and dirty and not even a quarter of the way to my destination. I was just standing there thinking did that seriously just happen? It wins as my worst public transport story ever. Luckily though as I was standing outside trying to get the hot African sun to dry me off an expat I had randomly met through a friend that week was driving past, saw me, and asked if I wanted a ride to Lubumbashi. I thanked God and hopped in to the comfortable air conditioned car for a luxurious rest of my trip to Lubumbashi. Thankfully the rest of my public transportation experience went smoothly.

I have made friends with some Chinese people who live near my house. Their English is pretty bad so we speak in a funny mixture of French, Swahili, English, and hand motions. They have some dogs that hate everyone except Chinese people. The funniest part is a lot of Congolese people can’t tell if I am white or Chinese. Somehow the curly hair, round blue eyes, and freckles don’t seem to give it away. But those dogs have no problem differentiating me as white. They are chained to the porch and bark at me until I enter the house then forget about me. One day the big dog named Niko broke his chain and came up to me barking and then bit me on my leg. My Chinese friend grabbed the chain and held the dog off so I could get out of the yard. Then she followed me and said went off in broken English and language mixture about how sorry she was. I told her it was no big deal just a bruise the dog never broke the skin. She made me sit down so she could pour peroxide on my bruise. I tried to tell her peroxide wouldn’t do anything for a bruise but she wouldn’t stop. Then she tried to convince me to go to the hospital. I told her it was fine but she was freaking out. She switched back and forth between French, English, and Swahili trying to convince me it was dangerous I needed to go to the hospital. Congolese hospitals are horrible anyway but seriously it was just a bruise so there was no need to do anything about it. Much to her relief a few days later the bruise was gone and I’m still alive and she realized it really hadn’t been a big deal. It was weird and surreal.

I guess it’s just life in Africa. Anything can happen here.