Last Thursday Matt came home with a soccer ball (or as they say here: ball). Our driver Aime was very excited. He immediately became very conversational. Do you play? Are you good? Where will you play? My responses were: Parfois, Peut-etre and Je ne sais pas (sometimes, perhaps and I don't know), in that order. The following day, Toni Lyn and Aime came home from work at around 5PM to find Matt playing futbol (soccer) in the courtyard with one of the security guards of our apartment compound. As soon as they could park the car they were out and playing too. Barefoot. Well, Toni Lyn was wearing her (dress) socks. It was pretty funny to watch her kick around in business attire.
About 20 minutes later Toni Lyn bowed out suddenly (after stopping 3 goals) and we all agreed it was time to quit anyway. Aime stepped forward and asked Matt "Do you want to play on Sunday?"
(Someone was able to afford the $40 cost of a ball and now we can play.) Matt said "Sure, where? when?" Aime made him pick a time that worked best for him (as if his schedule is so busy that it needs to be worked around). Eventually, Matt and Aime agreed that 9AM Sunday was a good time for Aime to come by because that was when the most people could play. Although it was pretty clear that whenever the guy with the only ball for miles wanted to play was a good time for everyone else.
A little while later Toni Lyn confessed the reason for her abrupt exit from the courtyard game. Blisters! The courtyard is pretty sandy most of the time and playing in your socks doesn't give you that much traction. Also, it is made of stone and had absorbed 8 hours of blazing sun. When you feel the skin detach from your foot it's time to call it quits. OUCH! Nothing like giant blood blisters on both feet before heading into the bush for 10 days. You should have seen the blood squirt when she popped those things. It was a bloodbath...literally.
Sunday rolled around and Aime picked Matt up for the game around 9:30. When they got to the field they found a game already in progress. So, while they waited for the match to finish, Aime introduced Matt to nearly a dozen nephews, cousins, brothers and other family members. It turns out Aime's uncle's house is across the road from the field. It is a pretty nice neighborhood. It appears to be an area where foreigners lived 50 or 60 years ago before the Congo won its "independence" and all the Europeans and Americans left the country. Congo became independent on January 17th 1961. They elected a president named Patrice Lumumba. Two months later the CIA conspired with Mobutu (at the time a colonel in the Congolese army) to assassinate him, apparently for economic reasons. Then, when Mobutu was voted out of power, the USA helped stage a coup to get him back into office. It was the old knock 'em down, then step on their throat so they won't get back up strategy. What followed in the Congo can only be described as 30+ years of fear, hunger, corruption and violence under President Mobutu. True Story.
Anyway, the match finally ended and a new game could begin. The family and now some friends and Matt walked across the field to play. Kids started gathering around the field asking to join in. Players filtered in and out of the game making it hard to keep track of who was on whose team. Nobody seemed to really care or take it that seriously though. There is always that guy who pays more attention to the score than the game, but for the most part, everyone was just glad to be able to play. It was a good day.
After the game Aime's family tried to convince Matt to start a business installing water purification systems in Kinshasa. They think he could do a lot of business here. Bottled water is not cheap and Engineers are few and far between in Kinshasa. Interesting.
Random image of the week:
It is not uncommon to see women (and sometimes men, but mostly women) carrying huge baskets or tubs or whatever on their heads. This week Matt was walking through the central market when a woman came around the corner with a huge (possibly 30 - 40 gallon) old metal basin with chipped white enamel and at least 18 live chickens inside balanced on top of her head. The chickens' heads were all looking out and around possibly wondering in their chicken way What is going on?! The woman's face was as calm as could be. How does she keep them from jumping out?
About 20 minutes later Toni Lyn bowed out suddenly (after stopping 3 goals) and we all agreed it was time to quit anyway. Aime stepped forward and asked Matt "Do you want to play on Sunday?"
(Someone was able to afford the $40 cost of a ball and now we can play.) Matt said "Sure, where? when?" Aime made him pick a time that worked best for him (as if his schedule is so busy that it needs to be worked around). Eventually, Matt and Aime agreed that 9AM Sunday was a good time for Aime to come by because that was when the most people could play. Although it was pretty clear that whenever the guy with the only ball for miles wanted to play was a good time for everyone else.
A little while later Toni Lyn confessed the reason for her abrupt exit from the courtyard game. Blisters! The courtyard is pretty sandy most of the time and playing in your socks doesn't give you that much traction. Also, it is made of stone and had absorbed 8 hours of blazing sun. When you feel the skin detach from your foot it's time to call it quits. OUCH! Nothing like giant blood blisters on both feet before heading into the bush for 10 days. You should have seen the blood squirt when she popped those things. It was a bloodbath...literally.
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| That has to hurt! |
Sunday rolled around and Aime picked Matt up for the game around 9:30. When they got to the field they found a game already in progress. So, while they waited for the match to finish, Aime introduced Matt to nearly a dozen nephews, cousins, brothers and other family members. It turns out Aime's uncle's house is across the road from the field. It is a pretty nice neighborhood. It appears to be an area where foreigners lived 50 or 60 years ago before the Congo won its "independence" and all the Europeans and Americans left the country. Congo became independent on January 17th 1961. They elected a president named Patrice Lumumba. Two months later the CIA conspired with Mobutu (at the time a colonel in the Congolese army) to assassinate him, apparently for economic reasons. Then, when Mobutu was voted out of power, the USA helped stage a coup to get him back into office. It was the old knock 'em down, then step on their throat so they won't get back up strategy. What followed in the Congo can only be described as 30+ years of fear, hunger, corruption and violence under President Mobutu. True Story.
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| The field. The sod guy is coming on Tuesday. |
Anyway, the match finally ended and a new game could begin. The family and now some friends and Matt walked across the field to play. Kids started gathering around the field asking to join in. Players filtered in and out of the game making it hard to keep track of who was on whose team. Nobody seemed to really care or take it that seriously though. There is always that guy who pays more attention to the score than the game, but for the most part, everyone was just glad to be able to play. It was a good day.
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| Matt probably being schooled by "The best player in the neighborhood". Matt is talking to Aime, our driver, in the middle picture. |
Random image of the week:
It is not uncommon to see women (and sometimes men, but mostly women) carrying huge baskets or tubs or whatever on their heads. This week Matt was walking through the central market when a woman came around the corner with a huge (possibly 30 - 40 gallon) old metal basin with chipped white enamel and at least 18 live chickens inside balanced on top of her head. The chickens' heads were all looking out and around possibly wondering in their chicken way What is going on?! The woman's face was as calm as could be. How does she keep them from jumping out?
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