Arrived In Congo!!

Amsterdam (December 7th – December 9th)

The trip to the hotel

The flight over was uneventful, actually fairly smooth and quick. However, upon arrival, which was around 1030 local time (0430 back home), I was fairly tired. Baggage claim went well, so did my trip to the train station. The adventure started when I got off the train. Thank goodness people spoke English and that I’m use to getting lost! Finding the metro from the train station was not as easy as I thought it would be, nor getting on the right train (I always find myself wondering if I’m on the right train or going the right direction). In any case, I found my way to the station that I needed to be. Now came the biggest challenge of all, which I did not anticipate at all. I’ve come to realize that I don’t read Dutch street signs well, they all seem very long and difficult to remember. I exit the metro station and immediately headed the wrong direction (something I seem to be very good at). After what seem like half a kilometre, I decided to head back. I found the same couple I passed half a kilometre at the same corner still watching me – I decided to approach them for directions. I later realize that they gave me either the wrong directions or the long way around. But of course at the time, you unquestionably follow their guidance. So here I was, thinking I was on the right route, finally. Not really. Here I am, dragging my suitcase on cobblestone roads – which are everywhere, along with my backpack and handbag, everything felt ten times heavier. I was so tired, I’m surprised I didn’t fall over. It was raining and the streets split in funny manner, so I didn’t know which one to follow. I must have stopped every person on the road for directions, ridiculous I know. After what felt like forever, I found the hotel. But because, I am who I am, I go through the wrong entrance (what hotel has multiple entrances that lead to nothing?). I drag my suitcase up a set of stairs, only to drag it down. It was no longer funny. When I actually found the real entrance, I was ready to leave my baggage outside. I couldn’t even bare the thought of bringing it up I think it was three steps… (only to realize that was a ramp on the other side but of course, after I started going up the steps). However, once I got into the hotel, it was fine. I found my hotel room from the hotel lobby easily (who would have thought) and the bed, it was very good to see the bed. I must have slept like 15 hours. So much for visiting Amsterdam.


The day of briefing

It was an early start. But then again, it wasn’t as though I could sleep anymore. I walked over to the MSF office from the hotel and managed to get myself there by only stopping one person on the way.



Once at the office, I finally got a sense of the size of MSF operations. I finally appreciate what “headquarters” mean. The briefing included talking to/meeting most of the personnel involved with/overseeing my project, plus paperwork, plus more things to bring with me to the field. The highlight was definitely speaking to the health advisor, whom had just returned from a visit to Congo Brazzaville. It was good to hear some of the stories from the village, to get a better picture of the layout, the people that I will meet/work with. The whole thing was starting to become real. And finally I was getting excited! I couldn’t believe I was leaving the very next day!


Amsterdam by night

It would be a shame had I not seen any of the city. A friend and I decided to “see” the Red Light District. Can’t say I have much to say about it. Can’t say we stayed long. So we decided to have Dutch pancakes, as per recommendation. Now, there’s the adventure, perhaps because this friend was with me, we had to get lost. To start off, we got on the wrong tram, which essentially took us all the way back to where we started (the MSF office). So finally, once on the right tram (after waiting quite some time in the cold), we got off at the wrong stop! We ended up walking a stretch of roads to say the least, also of course, in the cold. When we finally got to the restaurant, it was quite late and we were starving. We ate and headed home. I was leaving for the airport in less than 7 hours and I still needed to pack, and perhaps sleep. Luckily I didn’t get lost on the way back. In the end, Amsterdam for me was the Red Light District and the Pancake Corner.



Congo Brazzaville (December 9th – December 12th)

The plane ride

I guess all the Congolese were going home for the holidays. The plane was packed! There was definitely much chatter and much passenger movements. At some point I think the flight attendants were losing their temper.



The woman next to me on the plane was quite special. Upon meeting her, she was in my seat. After making known that she was in my seat, she made no move to move out of my seat. She just sat there. I said, “you realize that you are in my seat”, she responds, “yes”, end of story. I proceed to say, “you are comfortable in my seat?”, not trying to be sarcastic or anything, she says, “yes”. I decide to check one last time, “you are ok in my seat?”, and of course she says, “yes”. In hindsight I really don’t know where I was going with this line of questioning. It sounded like I wanted to make sure she was ok rather than conveying the fact that she took my seat! In any case, I didn’t want that seat anyway! Ah, but the story doesn’t end there. Some time later in the flight, I was handed something by the flight attendant, which she left for me in the pouch in front of me cause I was dozing. Curious as this woman was, she reaches over to take it and examine it for herself. At this point, I was awake and watching her and of course, this does not stop her, no no. When she was done, she was kind enough to put it back. Imagine. What next, ah yes. Her friend. Her friend decides to drop by for a visit. So imagine this, standing in the aisle (I’m in the aisle seat) her friend, leaning over me, the two decide to converse, quite loudly, which didn’t really bother me at this point because I was no longer sleeping, but also quite animatedly. Hands were waving and at some point she was practically in the seat with me. I was just waiting to be spat on or smacked in the head! Thankfully, neither of that happened. And finally, this wins the prize. Her friend motions to my neighbour that she should go get some cola from the back. I think the friend had taken the entire bottle of cola with her (I thought we only take cups). So she looks over to me and says, “can you please get me some cola?” I couldn’t believe my ears. I didn’t know how to react, so I repeated what she said, “you want me to get you cola?”. Of course she says, “yes”. Not just that, she wanted me to get her the bottle. I don’t know what is the matter with me, I negotiated with her and told her that I’d only get her a glass. I’m ridiculous. So I get up, proceed to the back, fight for some space with the Congolese men who are crowded around the drinks, fill a glass with ice, poured out cola, and brought it back. Anything else you would like? That’s right, I am now the official stewardess, because the flight attendants are nowhere to be found.


The airport

It’s not like I’ve never been in a developing country’s airport before, but this was rather chaotic. We were let off on the tarmac, bussed off to a building, with some passengers getting off and some staying off. No one really says anything, or they did and I did not understand. I ask whether I stay on or get off and I get two different answers. Finally I got one answer to confirm the other, so I got off. You’re ushered into this room with flickering fluorescent lighting, crowded and I mean crowded with people, yelling back and forth. There were technically two lines for the “Police Control”, one for the nationals, one for the foreigners. There were these slips that had to be filled out but they were no where to be found. You ask for them from the officials, but they ignore you. Finally after several attempts, he acknowledges you and not only am I asking for myself, I am asking for this random monk as well. Apparently he had filled it out wrong the first time (just cross out the mistake – no? at least he had a slip!). Ok, the form was filled, now it was the line. People were filing through, but you’re really not sure where you ought to be. There were these men who were taking passports for other people and passing it along to the officials. I really start to wonder when it would be my turn. Luckily at this point, a MSF national came looking for me (actually I spotted him and made myself known). Still, I had to go through the line. When it was finally my turn, my new MSF friend stayed close by. The official asked what I was doing there, I responded, he didn’t understand, my MSF friend quickly jumped in and I was promptly let through.



Here I thought the tough part was over, was I ever wrong. Baggage claim. I have never seen baggage claim like this before. I thought the other room was packed, no – that was nothing compared to this. In the middle of this room was the conveyer belt with wooden railings to guide the bags, which worked on and off. Bags would be brought in and the belt would sometimes stop moving, sometimes the bags would be stuck on the railings, sometimes the railings would fall off, sometimes the bags would fall off. On top of all that, the whole world is crowded around the belt. You cannot get remotely close to the belt. However, my MSF friend somehow weaved his way through. How he will identify my bags, I don’t know. I tried to stay close behind and told him that I had MSF stickers on them, if they were still on. So you just stood there and waited, trying to help id the bags but really couldn’t see anything. It’s hot, humid and chaotic. There were these young men running around with the baggage slips from the airline. These guys are hired by the passengers to find their luggage, so you see these men jumping all over the place, passing the found bag from one man to the next, until the rightful owner is found. One of these guys said to me, “you need help”, I told him I was alright, he proceeded to say, “you’ll never find your bag like this”, I reassured him that I’d be fine. So after an hour or so, my two bags were found, I had actually started to think that they were lost. Finally, we got to leave the airport. We met up with my medical coordinator in the parking lot (yes, she was waiting there all this time) and off we went for dinner. I later discovered that we were going to eat at a Lebanese restaurant. Who would have thought.