But, getting back to the Congo. What is it about the Congo that gets me on a high horse every time? I had one reader rap me gently on the knuckles for sounding so negative about the Congo. No – I am not negative about it, but I loved the Congo so much – loved the country, the people, the spirit, the warmth, the hospitality – everything about the Congo – that the issues that have become more and more noticeable as we are journeying through West and Central Africa, really insisted on being aired and thought about. So bear with, if you will!..
I loved the Congo.
Why I expected the country to be covered in rain forests and nothing else I don't know. One of those preconceived ideas that get shattered along the way of a journey such as this. Gabon is in fact covered with rainforest and, according to the Lonely Planet, the Democratic Republic of Congo – the DRC – has the second largest rainforest in the world. But the Congo- Brazzaville in fact has more rolling hills and savannah than forests. We did drive through the stunningly beautiful primeval rainforests between Dolisie and Pointe Noire – there where the Chinese are carving a massive road through the mountains and forests, but the rest of country is predominantly plateau, pockets of tropical growth in the gorges and valleys, tall elephant grass, some remnants of primeval forest – with one or two giants still standing vigil over what once was. There are so many mountain ranges though – so many hills and rivers, so many ups and downs and bends with surprises on the other side, that it is a truly spectacular geography. Perhaps it is the fact that there simply are no roads other than the one main road that runs down the country and the one (bad) road from Pointe Noire to Brazzaville (which the Chinese are now busy building and which is probably only a fifth done) that one feels so intimately close to the country and its people. What you see is all you will see – unless you trek by foot off the beaten track (ha! trust me – this IS THE beaten track!). The people you meet are all the people you will meet along this way. They don't see too many foreigners as a result – other than the Chinese road workers and the Malay and Korean loggers, so the welcome is warm and friendly and welcoming – albeit with a Chinese “ Ni hao!” greeting from the children!
The women – wherever they are – always working, always busy, in the markets, bent over in the fields, along the road walking, walking, walking to wherever they have to be, always greet me with a huge smile and sparkling eyes and are keen to talk and ask questions about where we come from and where we are going. I have felt such a close affinity with the women – probably the most enduring emotion of this adventure – that feeling of privilege and even honour that they would consider me a sister of theirs. I tell them I am African like them – albeit with white skin – and the response has never been other than laughter and joy and recognition. Perhaps it is because they are so closely linked with the earth here and in turn that is this strong link that I share with them. Perhaps it is my white hair and my wrinkles and appearance that make them open their arms to me. Perhaps it is simply because I smile and they reflect that smile – because what goes around comes around. Whatever it is, in the Congo I felt this link even more and even stronger than anywhere else.
But I must add here then that other than the few women I met and spoke to in a few village markets on our way to Matadi and on the banks of the Congo river where we waited for the ferry across, the women in the DRC have generally been the complete opposite. Their greeting has more commonly been a finger across the throat, a glare, a disgusted spit, a shout at us “White people! Go away to where you come from! We don't want you here!” Needless to say this is disturbing. It is only the complete opposite in the previous countries and in particular in the Congo, that makes me still keep my head up and look them straight in the eye and smile a broad smile and say a friendly word. Sometimes this works at disarming them, sometimes it does not, but I know that I will not be intimidated or insulted because white people have come before me and tarnished our collective reputation for all time.
Racism in black Africa? You better believe it! (we were, to mention one example, told directly at the Angolan consulate in Pointe Noire that they do not give visas to white people, so to go elsewhere if we want visas.) But here it is open and recognised. Many black people do not like white people and they are not afraid to say it. Neither is it very hard to understand. Here there is no political correctness. No walking on eggs and no euphemistic language. There are no couched terms for each other. There is no denial that they feel this way. And how refreshing that is! – to be in a corner of the world where the people recognise that racism exists, acknowledge it and are honest and open about it.
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