(Romanticism Concluding)
After crossing the border, we passed the UN base and arrived to the main street of Aru. On the right-side is the General Hospital, two adjoining Canossian convents—St. Michele & St. Joseph—the Boulangerie (Bakery) and Cyber Café (Internet Café), both of which are run by the Canossian Sisters and VOICA volunteers. The All-Girls High School (AIDIA-LEMI) and dormitories, as well as the Primary School for Boys and Girls are located beyond the convents.
Along the left-side of the street are shops selling fresh fruit, vegetables, phone cards and other basics. There are usually Mamas sitting outside along the road selling their produce too. There is a road that leads to the Health Clinic and Center for Malnourished Children. Then there is the St. Magdalene of Canossa Preschool and the building for 3rd Year High School—Coupe et Couture, a technical school. All the schools that I’ve listed are run by the Canossian Sisters. Lastly is the VOICA home where all the volunteers live. The block ends with the Catholic Church, Notre Dame du Congo.
Aru is very rural. Families live in small homes made of porta-porta (mud), brick, palms, and often a tin roof. Many grow their own crops to survive or to sell in the market. Almost everybody walks, some ride bikes, and a few own motorbikes. There are cars that pass-by, but not regularly. They usually belong to the UN, USAID, World Food Programme, or companies transporting petroleum.
All day long, the streets are mostly filled with school children. They are easily identified by their uniforms, which are clean and pressed white shirts with blue skirts for the girls and blue pants for the boys. The younger children at the preschool are similarly dressed in white shirts, but wear a variety of colored-shorts and skirts depending on their age.
Mamas are everywhere; walking to and from Aru’s market, which is about 20 minutes away from where I live. Many of the women have younger children who are strapped to their backs in colorful cloth and always seem to be sleeping. Men are walking or riding their motorbikes to and from work. The main street that goes through Aru is lined with small businesses, and many work either in the market center of Aru or for the Congolese government.
Around six o’clock in the evening, as everything begins to quiet on the streets; you hear the echo of families around their fires, preparing the evening meal. Aru is encircled by rising green hills and as the sunset continues, all the small fires create a canopy of haze. Then, as the crimson sunset fades from the sky, everything becomes still.
Concluding Remarks
Buried deeply in the pages of the New York Times, Africa showcases corrupt dictators, soaring inflation, depressing economies, poverty, famine, sexual violence, and war. At the same time, stories that go unreported are new schools being built, small businesses flourishing, and increasing access to higher education.
Everything about Africa is colorful; vibrant; and in my opinion, constantly moving forward. In Africa, it’s watching life happen. Schools are being built, maybe not yet finished and for one reason or another are taking a ridiculously long time to be completed: lack of money; dependable workers; or rain. At the same time, there’s a contentment and happiness in their lives by the closeness of family, friends and community. The intangibility of hope and determination, despite the setbacks, is both a reality and a future that everyone here works at and believes in.
I know that some may say that I’m in the honeymoon phase; referencing a time that is typically experienced when one first immerses him or herself in the developing world. Maybe, though I’m not going to be completely idealistic about my time here thus far. Taking a shower using only cold water and a bucket isn’t at all romantic; where is the government and why can’t they provide hot water, electricity would be nice too. Oh and the food we eat; I’m not going hungry or anything, but if I was tired of pasta in Italy, it’s just the beginning here in Africa: rice, beans, rice, beans, and our staple: eggplant. Even as I’m writing, a little lizard continues crawl up and down our wall. I wish he would make up his mind; his indecisiveness is exhausting for me to watch.
Romantic, I know.
I also know it’s only a matter of time before all my questions, confusion, and frustrations begin to arise…
And yes, I am very happy to call Aru home for the next year of my life.
After crossing the border, we passed the UN base and arrived to the main street of Aru. On the right-side is the General Hospital, two adjoining Canossian convents—St. Michele & St. Joseph—the Boulangerie (Bakery) and Cyber Café (Internet Café), both of which are run by the Canossian Sisters and VOICA volunteers. The All-Girls High School (AIDIA-LEMI) and dormitories, as well as the Primary School for Boys and Girls are located beyond the convents.
Along the left-side of the street are shops selling fresh fruit, vegetables, phone cards and other basics. There are usually Mamas sitting outside along the road selling their produce too. There is a road that leads to the Health Clinic and Center for Malnourished Children. Then there is the St. Magdalene of Canossa Preschool and the building for 3rd Year High School—Coupe et Couture, a technical school. All the schools that I’ve listed are run by the Canossian Sisters. Lastly is the VOICA home where all the volunteers live. The block ends with the Catholic Church, Notre Dame du Congo.
Aru is very rural. Families live in small homes made of porta-porta (mud), brick, palms, and often a tin roof. Many grow their own crops to survive or to sell in the market. Almost everybody walks, some ride bikes, and a few own motorbikes. There are cars that pass-by, but not regularly. They usually belong to the UN, USAID, World Food Programme, or companies transporting petroleum.
All day long, the streets are mostly filled with school children. They are easily identified by their uniforms, which are clean and pressed white shirts with blue skirts for the girls and blue pants for the boys. The younger children at the preschool are similarly dressed in white shirts, but wear a variety of colored-shorts and skirts depending on their age.
Mamas are everywhere; walking to and from Aru’s market, which is about 20 minutes away from where I live. Many of the women have younger children who are strapped to their backs in colorful cloth and always seem to be sleeping. Men are walking or riding their motorbikes to and from work. The main street that goes through Aru is lined with small businesses, and many work either in the market center of Aru or for the Congolese government.
Around six o’clock in the evening, as everything begins to quiet on the streets; you hear the echo of families around their fires, preparing the evening meal. Aru is encircled by rising green hills and as the sunset continues, all the small fires create a canopy of haze. Then, as the crimson sunset fades from the sky, everything becomes still.
Concluding Remarks
Buried deeply in the pages of the New York Times, Africa showcases corrupt dictators, soaring inflation, depressing economies, poverty, famine, sexual violence, and war. At the same time, stories that go unreported are new schools being built, small businesses flourishing, and increasing access to higher education.
Everything about Africa is colorful; vibrant; and in my opinion, constantly moving forward. In Africa, it’s watching life happen. Schools are being built, maybe not yet finished and for one reason or another are taking a ridiculously long time to be completed: lack of money; dependable workers; or rain. At the same time, there’s a contentment and happiness in their lives by the closeness of family, friends and community. The intangibility of hope and determination, despite the setbacks, is both a reality and a future that everyone here works at and believes in.
I know that some may say that I’m in the honeymoon phase; referencing a time that is typically experienced when one first immerses him or herself in the developing world. Maybe, though I’m not going to be completely idealistic about my time here thus far. Taking a shower using only cold water and a bucket isn’t at all romantic; where is the government and why can’t they provide hot water, electricity would be nice too. Oh and the food we eat; I’m not going hungry or anything, but if I was tired of pasta in Italy, it’s just the beginning here in Africa: rice, beans, rice, beans, and our staple: eggplant. Even as I’m writing, a little lizard continues crawl up and down our wall. I wish he would make up his mind; his indecisiveness is exhausting for me to watch.
Romantic, I know.
I also know it’s only a matter of time before all my questions, confusion, and frustrations begin to arise…
And yes, I am very happy to call Aru home for the next year of my life.
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