visits

Visiting people is a very important part of life in DRC. It’s one of the prime ways you show you respect them, care about them and are in a good relationship with them. You can drop in on people at any time, unannounced, and they will welcome you warmly, because visitors are considered a blessing. And you need to be ready to receive visitors unexpectedly, too. I find this challenging sometimes, because I can be pretty work-orientated and my home is my office. (Cultural values clashing again!) Visitors announce their presence at the door with the expression ‘Hodi!’ It can be hard to leave my computer, lose my train of thought as it wends its way through academic French, and open the door with a smile and a ‘Karibu!’, (meaning ‘Welcome’). But I’m trying to learn to look at things the way Henri Nouwen did when he said, “My interruptions are my work.” And, of course, lots of the visitors I receive are an unexpected pleasure that help to warm my house up, as we say here. Being stuck at home under piles of lesson plans and academic assignments can be rather lonely at times and visitors bring laughter and connectedness.

Last year I realised that I didn’t take nearly enough time to visit the students who live on my doorstep. That was partly because I was in survival mode, and barely keeping my head above water as I struggled to prepare lessons in French at degree level for the first time, as well as adapting to Congolese life. But this academic year life seems a little less ‘on the edge’, so I’m trying to make a little bit of time every week to go visiting. It’s amazing what I find. A couple of days ago I visited one of my students, T. a young, bright guy who is excited about translating the Bible into his language, who regularly accosts me with difficult questions in class. He is living in one room with his wife, two small children, and his sister, a schoolgirl. This weekend his sister-in-law is arriving from their home in the Kivu region to help look after the children. That will make six people in one room, three of whom are studying. They make do by partitioning off parts of the room with curtains. His wife gave birth to their second daughter about a month ago, and is doing her second degree in development studies. She has to nip out of lectures to feed the baby. In the future she’s hoping to apply what she’s learning by encouraging literacy in their home community. T. asked me to pray for his sister-in-law’s journey from Goma, because security on the road is sometimes bad, and that they will find somewhere less cramped to live. In general there’s great pressure on student housing on the campus. Another student is waiting for his wife and six children to arrive to move into their tiny two-roomed house. My spacious two-bedroomed house is truly palatial here. One again I’m challenged by the contrasts between my own life and those I live and work with here.