One of the Reasons Why I DISLIKE Kinshasa

I always told my kids to never use the word, hate.  BUT the city of Kinshasa, the capital of DR Congo is one place that I almost hate.  I really DISLIKE Kinshasa.  Unfortunately, I do not know if all 3rd- or 4th-world large cities are similar to Kinshasa.  I hope not!

Here's an email I just received from a missionary friend.  The day before I departed for the US, Glen arrived in Kinshasa from his missionary post in the bush.  It was good to see him again.  The following is Glen's latest adventure in Kinshasa.

Dear Friends,
       Kinshasa is a friendly city as far as big cities go.
        People are generally polite, (except if they are behind a
steering wheel), helpful, and eager to talk.

        When I go shopping at the big down town market, I usually go
with a Congolese friend.  It is so crowded, and the most professional
thieves stake out the place.     Kinshasa has few violent crimes that
I know about.  People are more interested in ripping someone off, but
not in hurting anyone.

         The streets of Kinshasa are a mess after a big rain.  A
crowded market is made even worse as you negotiate narrow passages
around the standing water and garbage.  I gave my friend Mador my
backpack to carry so that I wouldn't be as much of a target. I still
had a portable phone in a buttoned shirt pocket, and a money pouch
attached to my belt.  I also had some money in my pants pockets.    At
the big market, you walk with a purpose.  You decide where you are
going, and head in that direction, while trying to avoid distractions.
 The thieves are masters at distraction.

          The street was crowded when a young man concealing his hand
under a bag reached to my chest and said "Put your hands up".  I
stepped aside , and addressed the man in Lingala, the Kinshasa street
language.  I also called out to my partner who turned around and was
with me in an instant.  The thief said something like "Oh this is a
native", and began backing off. I pressed my advantage and began
loudly lecturing the fellow in Lingala about his shameful behavior.
By this time, the crowd on my side of the street, and the other side
of the street knew what was going on.  People were yelling at him
because of the "shameful" act.   The thief then fled the area.

            The men on the other side of the street told me "he got
something of yours".  I still  had my money pouch, and my cell phone
in my left shirt pocket.  I assured people that he had not succeeded
at getting anything, then I noticed that my other shirt pocket was
unbuttoned.  He had managed to get into my pocket after all.  Earlier,
I had been given some small change.  but the bills were nice and
crisp, so I put them in that pocket hoping to save them to take back
to Kikongo.   The value of the money stolen was  25 cents !   What a
relief !  My $ 400 was still safe in my concealed pouch, my reading
glasses were untouched and my phone was still in my pocket.    The
poor thief thought he was going for dollars, but only ended up with
small Congolese notes.

             So that's my Kinshasa adventure with a happy ending for
me, but a little disappointing  for the professionals.

              Sounds like in my absence Rita is taking care of a two
meter python!   Is that a substitute for me?  I will find out when I
return on Tuesday.

              I plan to worship in my own language with the
international community today.


                Blessings,

                   Glen (in Kin) and Rita (at Kikongo)

Comments

[SoloKinshasa]

I realise that you are not alone in disliking Kinshasa, but why would you take against a place because you can get pickpocketed there?
Surely this is a hazard in most, if not all, cities around the world?

Your friend's story shows that he is able to shop in the big market and that a few words of Lingala were enough to win him space, respect and the support of onlookers. Doesn't sound so bad to me.

When my bag was nicked the other day, I was even lucky enough to get it back within an hour or two!