Alone, I walk into a restaurant in Mbandaka. There is only one man sitting at a table. We greet each other and I sit down. It is as though no one goes by unnoticed here. Everyone is greeted, everyone is acknowledged.
Congo Calling
Saskia Roskam, born in 1982 from a Cameroonian mother and a Dutch father, is travelling over the next six months through the Democratic Republic of Congo. In her fortnightly column entitled ‘Congo Calling’, Saskia shares with us the impressions of her journey.
The restaurant has a view over the Congo River. The sun is shining and there is a glowing reflection on the water. The scenery is beautiful and calm. You see the river flow because of all the uprooted plants and water hyacinths flowing downstream. People in pirogues (wooden boat) are sailing up and down the river.
On the other side a huge barge is turning and making its way to dock in front of the restaurant. The back of the colonial-era barge - where the engine is - looks like it is almost sinking. At full force it is pushing the barge up stream. About 20 minutes later it finally docks.
The boat must be about 20 meters long. A policeman in blue uniform steps on for some kind of inspection. This must be an easy way for him to earn some extra cash. As he is sure to find a few safety hazards on board.
They don't seem to be transporting much. Maybe it has already discharged its goods. All that is left onboard is people. For the past few days and the coming ones this is their home.
As the boat comes to a stand still two men go and take a shower in the back. This is always the place reserved for washing on these types of boats. They frantically rub themselves with soap and then lower a little bucket into the river. In one movement, the bucket is pulled out and the water is splashed all over their bodies to wash off the soap. At the other end, two small kids come back on a long pirogue which they tie to the big boat. The smallest kid climbs on board and the older one hands out five jerry cans to somebody on the big boat. I figure they are filled with drinking water.
Suddenly it dawns on me that I am waiting for my food. I am being waited on... And I ask myself: "how does one eat in front of people who do not have anything?"... “How do I eat in front of these people I am looking at?”
The man on the table besides me has left and a family of five walks in. Once again they greet me. We have a little conversation. They are from Mbandaka and are just having a quick lunch here. They order their drinks and my food is served.
I start to chew but soon I find myself swallowing down big mouthfulls. Conscious of the fact how the lives of those people on the barge are so separate from mine. Maybe so separate that with too much time on my hands, I actually see them. But for them it might be another story. They may not have even noticed me sitting under the thatched roof only a hundred meters away from them.
Photo: Julien Harneis (Flickr CC)
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