French school and commercial street--May 2008

13^th May2008

I was out all day again, we went to the French embassy for the ‘immatriculation’ and then to the French School to find out about French courses and my actual enrolling next year. We got a lot done…but the sun really wears you down after an entire day out….I don’t think I could be doing too much of that day in and day out.

Alain, Bohney, my mom, Malu, Joseph and Joe

We went to the rue commercial (by the market place) afterwards, and my dad got pick pocketed…this guy just stuck out his elbow to hold him back when there were a few people pressing in and fished his hand into his shirt pocket…not very subtle but effective….if there had been a little more in his pocket. Thankfully there wasn’t,(his passport was in another pocket…we had all that kind of stuff with us as we had just been to the embassy) he only lost 100 francs (meant for the car guard)….but it still minded us to be careful, we had been warned before that that street was notorious for pick pockets. 

Kinshasa street

The people here are quite respectful, when they talk to you they are a lot more polite, their whole manner and language is much more polite than the way people in South Africa talk to you, and even just in other places. But there’s still plenty of crooks, even if they’re all smiley and nice.

I haven’t been whistled at yet (which you can’t escape in south Africa) while walking down the street, although I had a few people blowing me kisses…which is a little more disturbing for me (whistling seems normal and you just ignore it by now, but people trying to smooch the air to get your attention a little less…but I suppose it’s all the same). One guy after blowing kisses actually came up to our car and started talking to my dad telling him that I was very beautiful….while his friend came and stuck his hand in the window on the other side and tried to snitch my bag….I grabbed it back before he could thankfully, (as losing my passport would have been a rather bad thing) and they went away when the light turned. But my dad wasn’t very helpful, instead of clearly telling him that he was a protective Italian father and that what was he even doing looking at his daughter and that he’d kick his butt from here to cairo if he didn’t go away, he ‘sneakily’ told him my name was anne when the guy asked what my name was and just laughed and said ok to his praises. Not very bothered…I suppose he feels he has to be nice because he’s a missionary….even when he got robbed today he just figured that it would have been a donation to help the poor anyway.

Malu came over (well was over here already) and stayed for dinner and he had a nice long chat with my parents and mylene about politics, of which I tried to follow. I suppose it’s good for me to hear as much French as I can; when I can understand some of it it’s ok, because then it keeps me guessing for the other half and I’m not completely clueless as to what is going on, but sometimes it all just goes way over my head.

Well goodnight, more to do tomorrow, would have liked to write a little more, about the sights, sounds, and smells..and my impression of the school… and how sick I felt after being in the sun all day, and how we found a library (albeit a small and somewhat stingy one), and how mylene was so excited about the movies in French (she hasn’t watched any in a long time because she doesn’t understand properly the English ones), and how I got mad at my mom again, and how I luckily got to skip fish for dinner as mylene made for just me and her some eggs. And the strange dreams I have here, that are always somewhat scattered by the time I write this after a full day of frying my brain.

But from doing all these things, I am too tired now to actually tell you about them….a day has many things in it and you cannot record them all. Sweet dreams.