One week

It’s Valentine’s Day in the Congo (except not, because it’s not really celebrated here), and I have now been here a week with my little love.  It’s been a long week.  You could tell me we’ve been here for three weeks and I’d almost believe you.  And yet, it hasn’t been too hard.  I think that will come, as more time passes, but so far, we’re all doing okay. 

Zola’s fussiness Tuesday night turned into a really bad night of sleep.  She would cry, moan, scream, didn’t want her pacifier or only wanted the bottle (but wasn’t eating).  I began to lose patience as the night wore on and wished for the first time since getting here for my own house and a rocking chair.  And, not for the first time, my husband.  The next night she slept better after a rough start (and ibuprofen, just in case), but thanks to her constant passing of gas, my post-nasal drip and sore throat, and the lack of exercise that’s part of being here, I slept poorly.  We’re both tired.  She cat-napped the last two days, mostly in the carrier while we’re out, with no big long nap like we’d had in the previous days.  She finally went down for a big nap this afternoon, just in time for us to go out for a group Valentine’s Day meal at a nearby restaurant.  This morning I went looking for drugs for me, just to make me feel a little less uncomfortable during the day, and realized that the acetaminophen I brought is PM.  I’ll probably take some before bed and then hope she doesn’t have another bad night.

The last two days have mostly been filled without outings.  Wednesday morning I went with a group of other adoptive parents to several of the large markets around here.  The outing is organized by an American woman who lives in Kinshasa with her family.  Her husband works for a mission organization that provides flights to people doing work in underdeveloped areas of the world like the DRC.  His particular job is mechanics on the planes, but others are here as pilots, medics, and so forth.  They’ve been here since April.  They’ll leave at the end of the year, then raise funds to come back for another three.  She’s started doing weekly runs to the markets for the families who are here doing adoptions.  She arranges the van and driver, who also helps at the markets, and goes to several different guesthouses and hotels where families commonly stay.  It’s a safe, low-stress way to go to some of the places that can be a little scary for Americans, especially those with young, Congolese children in tow. On our trip was two families here at St. Anne’s, plus me, and two families from another Catholic guesthouse across town.  Those families have been in Congo for one to two months because of various issues with their cases. 

We set out at 10:00AM in a blessedly air-conditioned van and started at a fixed-price shop where the goods are made by local people with disabilities.  There was lots of cute stuff, but I picked out two adorable dolls for Emme and Zola.  They’re nice and big, and I think Emme will like carrying hers in her carrier.  From there we went to the more common outdoor market.  I think we were literally the only customers there.  One mom who was there with two older girls and has been in country for a while stayed in the van.  She’d already done enough shopping, and she said the guys at the market liked to use the children as a way to get parents to buy stuff.  In addition to Lisa and the driver, there was an art dealer who walks around and helps families at the market.  He ended up hanging with me as I bought a variety of small things, mostly jewelry but also a toy for Oliver and a rattle for Zola.  I went to look at his art at the end and ended up buying a painting that I really liked.  It was pulled around a wooden canvas frame, so he pulled it off and I’ll have to redo it at home.  It’s not fancy, but I think it would be cute to hang in a hall or in the girls’ room – pretty colors that capture the feeling of this place.  Our last stop was the fabric market, which is just around the corner from St. Anne’s.  The fabrics are extensive and very beautiful.  They only sell them in six-yard bolts at around $3.35/yard.  I ended up buying four and definitely wish I’d had time to look a lot more.  It’s not a place where you can really haggle, but I want to get a little more variety than what I did yesterday (mostly blues and greens that will look pretty on both girls, and hopefully a skirt or something for me in there).

Lisa offered to take everyone out to lunch before heading back home, but Heidi, one of the other moms from St. Anne’s, and I decided to come back in so our babies could eat and sleep and cool off.  I fed Zola, looked through what I’d purchased, and relaxed a little before Heidi came up to see if I wanted to walk to Hassan’s for coffee with her and Keela.  We went over by ourselves – always a sight, since we’re three blonde women with very young Black babies in front carrier – and enjoyed waffles, crepes, and coffee.  On the way there, we saw a church service in session.  We realized that it was a special service in celebration of the visiting Catholic Cardinal, Francis Arinze, from Nigeria, who is one of the men reportedly being considered for Pope now that the current one has announced he is leaving the papacy.  While we were enjoying our sweets, a man at the table next to us came to chat and practice his English.  He, like evidently many of the people here, was confused as to why we were carrying around Black babies.  We explained we were adopting and why, and he seemed pleased with our answers.  He then proceeded to – if we understood correctly – try to pick up Heidi and ask her out for Saturday night!  She politely demurred but I think was unnerved by the experienced. 

After our snack I went looking for a few things.  It’s strange the little things I’ve looked for at the supermarket but can’t find – nail clippers, floss, a baby bottle that holds more than four ounces.  I can give you a long list of places to find carved elephants, malachite necklaces, stringed instruments made out of turtle shell, and even a small preserved crocodile, but I can’t find floss.  I did find toothpaste, which was good.  In the evening, we ordered in dinner.  It turned into a bit of a fiasco, as the driver brought way more food than we ordered but also insisted we pay for it.  When Keela realized the order, she was bold enough to call and argue for a refund (a word that I don’t think exists in Lingala!).  They did send the driver back, who demanded the extra food and then provided 1/3 of the cost back.  He was pretty unimpressed, and I doubt we’ll order from there again for a while. 

Today was more of the same.  I was up early because of the poor night’s sleep.  Joe and Lindsey wanted to go back to the market because they hadn’t had enough time the day before, so they got a driver through one of the other mom’s here, Christine.  We started at a more traditional art gallery, which had lots of beautiful paintings.  Had I not already purchased one the day before, I certainly would have gotten something.  Instead I picked up several handmade postcard type multimedia images (ink and fabric) that I think I can frame under a custom mat to have for Zola.  They were $1.50 each, so it was an easy way to take home something else for the wall without paying a lot or ending up with something large to carry home.  From there we went back to the market, where our art dealer friend – and probably everyone else there – recognized us and came over to walk around with us.  He was actually really helpful.  Joe is a very impressive bargainer and helped me get a few more things way cheaper, and when the guys wouldn’t come down in price, our handler would help us.  I have some pretty things to take home, for sure.  As we were leaving the market, Joe pointed out a small chimpanzee in an area where they sell birds and birdcages.  He was so cute, sitting there with his little banana or whatever he was eating.  It’s time like those I so wish I could take pictures!

We decided to do the fabric market later in the day in favor of time for lunch and naps for the kids.  Joe had arranged for one of his seller buddies on the street to get me a small RDC (that’s the DRC in French) soccer outfit for Oliver, and I went downstairs at 1:00PM to meet him.  He’s been very nice to the Barths, helping them find items they wanted to buy, including today a Bible in Lingala.  At 3:30, I begrudgingly woke Zola up from a nap to join our whole group out at a restaurant for a Valentine’s Day celebration that one of the mom’s arranged.  It was fun walking over together, but shortly after we got there, we found out that our walk has raised to the notice of some locals and perhaps police offers.  Several of the moms were really nervous about walking home, but Joe, who seems totally calm about that kind of thing, assured them it would be okay.  Zola was fussy the whole time we were there, which made it hard to enjoy being out (perhaps in combination with the lack of sleep), and I was ready to go pretty soon after finishing our meal.  The food was definitely good, if pricey (as it is here), and it was nice to get out again, though.  Just as dinner was ending and we paid, Christine’s daughter climbed up in her grandmother’s arms and then vomited all over her grandmother and the main dining room of the restaurant.  In the course of the next ten minutes, she got sick twice more.  At that point, I was cranky with Zola, nervous about all the unwanted attention we were drawing, and just ready to go.  I felt so bad for Christine – these things ALWAYS happen at the worst possible time (for me, when the kids are in their car seats and I’m driving).  We walked quickly and directly back to St. Anne’s without incident.  I gave Zola another bottle, after which time she took a little nap and then played a bunch.  She went down after yet another bottle around 7:30PM, and so far, she’s been pretty still here next to me on the bed.  Here’s hoping we both have a better night sleep so we can enjoy tomorrow.

The other family with my attorney just got their exit letter today.  They came after their son’s visa was already issued but one day after me.  The exit process can’t start until you have your child’s visa, so I’m only 2-3 days in.  But, if my letter comes as quickly as theirs does, I’ll be able to leave on my scheduled flight next Wednesday.  It seems like a long time out, but I know we’ll be fine.  Joe and Lindsey want to go back to the fabric market again tomorrow before they leave, so I’ll join them if I can.  If not, I might go back out with Lisa next week, just to fill our departure day with some last minute fun.  For now, I’m just thankful that I’ve gotten to see so much of city in relative safety, enjoy the company of people I certainly would otherwise not have met, and have had pretty minimal challenges with Zola.  All cause for celebration – minus the vomit.