Lubumbashi...my home today

Cathedrale Saints Pierre et Lubumbashi

The Belgians founded the city of Elisabethville in Katanga Province in 1910, named in honour of their new Queen, Elisabeth. The city prospered with the development of a regional copper mining industry. Mobutu Sese Seko renamed Elisabethville 'Lubumbashi'.



The Parliament House

Lubumbashi is the second largest city in the Democratic Republic of the Congo, second only to it's Capital Kinshasa, is the hub of the South Eastern part of the country. The copper-mining city serves as the capital of the relatively prosperous Haut-Katanga Province, lying near the Zambian border. Population averages around 1.2 million. Lubumbashi lies around 1,000 metres above sea level.

 

In April 2010, we arrive, P and I, full of hope, excitement, optimism, not to ignore the anxiety and the resistance to change, when I say we, I actually mean 'I'. P does not display much emotion when it comes to happiness or sadness, always ready for the ride, good or bad, so I can't read the optimism or the pessimism, or the anxiety or hope. In my case, there are days when one rules over the other, days when all feelings mingle freely and days when I draw a blank. Eight months later we are still here, full of excitement, hope and optimism, no anxiety, no resistance to change, and here the 'we' is truly 'we'.



Lubumbashi Airport

We land at Lubumbashi airport and my brain freezes, is that an airport, or a military air base??? I am told it was a military air base before the grand conversion. More helicopters than aeroplanes at the parking bay. There are commoners jay walking around the tarmac. Before I can absorb the scene, we enter a dirty looking building with fellow passengers. What we see is the immigration area, except, there are more agents than passengers thronging the place. Well, there is a hint of exaggeration here, but you know what I mean. Our passports and yellow cards are collected from us by the company agent while we wait in the corner, like convicts waiting to be called. It is then that we find that some fellow employees have arrived with us in the same plane. Some relief that!!! Once the immigration formalities are done with, we are ushered into another room, yes, a room, by Swahili speaking gentlemen at the door, not forgetting to ask us a few questions in Swahili and all of us turn to our agent, who gives them crisp answers. We see a dilapidated conveyer belt and more people, by people I don't mean passengers. We have to drag our suitcases from the conveyer belt, to stand in a long queue. We soon learn our suitcases are going to be checked by the Customs, manually, we could lose things if they decide to have them. Oops!!! Think they are completely baffled by the amount of luggage we are carrying, thanks to me, they just let us go.  We get into a waiting pick up truck and drive home, a pick up truck growing mould on its floor, more than a few of us sitting almost one over the other, packed with suitcases at the back and some using us for support. Shocking!!! My first impression of the City, its dusty and old, with a colonial air looming large. Can't wait to see my new place. 

Once we are home, we are welcomed by a security guard and our maid in a night gown, guess, she was spring cleaning the house, a complete departure after she changes into her 'going home' clothes. We unload our luggage and enter an old building, completely discoloured from the lack of paint and rain stains . What strikes us when we are in, is a complete lack of imagination displayed. Plastic flowers adorn the walls, the corners, the centre table, the dining table and even the ceiling, red, yellow, blue, green, orange, pink...a collage of colours and torn 'gold' curtains to boot. I check out the house and realise am disoriented, am  going round and round. We go up and the same...the curtains are better, the bed linen...can't be worse, they look used. They definitely need a lady in the establishment department. OMG!!! No water in the only bathroom we have. World over we know it's common place to have a single big bath, but am not used to it. The security guard doesn't seem to understand what 'water' means, I can't even wait to ask again. I manage to show him a bucket with little water in it and he understands. He switches on the motor and there...plenty of water. So, in Lubumbashi we need to switch on the motor if we need water, or is it just our place??? We come down, go into the kitchen, we find an unclean refrigerator, old broken cabinets, a cooking range, an old meatsafe without knobs, everything about the kitchen is old, big though, with a large storeroom and another one, small, under the stairs with a lock and key, fascinating to my head. I decide crying is the best option and P decides I should make a decision if I want to go back to Chennai. I feel so sorry for him. We have our lunch, the company has ordered food for us for which we are asked for payment later and we spend the rest of the afternoon indulging in pessimism. Again, 'we' means 'I'. P is more optimistic, as always, he contacts one of his new colleagues, also his former colleague for answers.



Elephant Monument for the Central Bank

Things start to brighten up the next day, a Sunday, we have the whole day to think about what we want to do, it dawns on me, would be silly to go back home because we don't like what we see in the house, we could always ask to be moved. It would be silly to remain pessimistic. We have ready-to-eat food bought the previous day from an Indian store in the CBD. P is pleasantly surprised to see it's not a store, it's a supermarket. Overall Sunday is a very quiet day, spend time sleeping most of time, as Saturday is spent worrying :-)

Bright start to Monday, I get busy in the kitchen, re-arranging furniture and making the house look more inviting. Our contact here take us to this Belgian supermarket and I almost feel like shop lifting. What a lovely place!!! Suddenly life in Lubumbashi is starting to look sunny. We decide to make things happen, it's upto us now. We immediately embark on a shopping spree, buy crockery, cutlery, bed linen, artefacts for the walls to replace all the flowers hanging like mistletoes, more groceries and food to go in the refrigerator. The house starts to look cozier day by day. We decide to get the house painted, the curtains changed, jewellery made out of the 'gold' curtains. They all take time, six months infact, that is not too long am told. We start taking an interest in gardening. Must admit I have no knowledge of gardening, still don't, not even the basics, seems to be something which my brain can't pick up. Today the house is a home, some corrections here and there still need to be made, otherwise it has become a very warm and welcoming place for both of us. The house is built on a lovely plan, small changes to the interiors make such a noticeable difference, can't bear to think, I wanted out of here.



Lubumbashi Railway Station

Lubumbashi is a very well planned city, trees lining the broad streets, old, large houses, most of them lacking paint behind tall plain metal gates, lovely flowers peeking over high compound walls, fantastic restaurants, old commercial buildings in the Central Business District, yellow jersey wearing policemen and women, red taxis, a few in number, 'Dubai's' ( large vans ) used as the public transport with drivers who manuevre like they are under the influence, beautiful churches adorning junctions, simple, picturesque and spaced out picnic spots, supermarkets of different kinds, Belgian, Italian, Indian, Local, all of them specialising in their signature products, small stores managed from homes. Should I call Lubumbashi a city, a town or a Colony??? Well, I think it strikes a very fine balance between all of them, should be called 'Ci-to-ny':-)



Golf Links

We know people make a place. The locals are such incredibly happy people, despite being exceedingly poor. DRC is the poorest Country in the world but the only people I see begging are the handicapped. Definitely not as many as in India. The poor are never seen in tattered clothes, are laidback, enjoy life as if it's their last day on Earth, they can instantly sparkle a dull boring day. On the other end of the spectrum, there are the extremely rich, Government servants who live lavishly on bribes, unlike in India they don't hide it. They are a protected lot, then there are traders and those who have inherited 'trunks' and comfortably live on them. On a lighter note, the term bribe is called 'motivation' money. When a tip is requested, they call it 'transport' money. It is not worth denying the poor their 'transport' money, that small sum of money determines the difference between hardworking and 'hardly working'. Not many jobs are available for the population that is still growing at an alarming rate. They believe children are a gift of God and a household with ten children is not rare. The mortality rate is so high, death is looked at very philosophically. Once the funeral is over, life is back to normal. It is also common to take in extended family as a result of death of the bread winner. Hence, a single income takes care of more than a dozen people. A very sad state indeed!!!

On the social scene, we have made a few friends, some are here to stay, some are not. We are here to grow, meet new people, make happy memories. We need to respect the space we live in and grant others theirs. A small world that Lubumbashi is, misunderstandings are commonplace.  It is imperative not to dwell on them and move on.  It is important not to compare life here with that back home. Take in the good and ignore the bad!!! There are no movie theatres and no fancy shopping malls, must admit one learns to live without these luxuries. We came here with absolutely no expectations, even if we have to go back to Chennai today, I would say we have gained a lot.  

An Ode to Lubumbashi!!!

Diwali at Lubumbashi

I remember, Diwali was huge when we lived in the BHELTownship at Trichy, we looked forward to the next one even before the ongoing festival saw the last of its fireworks. It was all about firecrackers, sweets and new clothes. My brother and I were even branded ‘Pandis’ by our ‘Mallu’ Cousins for being too ‘Tamil’ and for not making an effort to be ‘Mallu’. We were never offended by that remark, because we were infact more 'Tamil'. Once we relocated to Chennai, we found it stressful to go about celebrating Diwali with the same amount of vigour, the main road travelled right by our door step and we did not find enough space and company to fire our more sophisticated crackers. Slowly we weaned away from active participation and resorted to just being the audience. Then came a phase when I couldn’t  take the noise anymore, to purposely staying away in solidarity with the child workers employed in the Industry. The Diwali delicacies were always a hit, but were not painstakingly made at home anymore, we did not buy them either, boxes came from work and some delivered by contacts from work, in the end it became quite an effort to finish them.

Fast forward to Lubumbashi. We came here with no expectations, none at all, of the place or people. Lubumbashi has surpassed all our expectations though, in 6 months I feel so much at home already. I was planning to learn Swahili, switched to French when I learnt most people spoke the language, being the official language of DRC, well, French has a more universal appeal too. However when I went for my 1st Kitty party, I realised I had to learn Gujrati as well. Gujratis are to Africa as Malayalis are to the Middle East. Today am happy to see Indians, be it ‘Mallus’, ‘Tallus’, ‘Gujjus’, ‘Bongs’…anybody Indian, and I don't have to strain my eyes at all, I see them everywhere. In my estimate there are about 1000 families.

This year, we had no idea how we were going to usher in the festival till a week before Diwali. Then the invitations came pouring in. The 1st one from the Tamil Community here ( was there one??? ). We were told there were 10-12 families and many more bachelors. We were looking forward to meeting them. Then we heard, my husband’s work place was organizing a private party at an Indian Restaurant. Both parties at the same time, same day, one day after Diwali. How were we going to prioritise?? We heard the Indian Community was holding a carnival at the Temple Premises on Diwali Eve. This temple is a work-in-progress, and the 1st in Lubumbashi.

I couldn’t wait for the events to unfold, the same exuberance I had as a child came pounding in, I was like a cat on a hot tin roof. Have we ever heard of an event unfolding without hiccups??? Rain came showering furiously…Love the rains, but not when am going out, not when my childhood enthusiasm to be part of the Diwali festivities is back again, not when it's my first Diwali here. The Rain Gods were kind though…very kind. Rain stopped just short of the Diwali ‘Muhurtham’. Diyas on, should I call them diyas??? Glorified tea candles more like it, scented too, apple, chocolate, citrus, lavender and cinnamon…a mish mash of perfumes. Never mind…the light emanating from them was more important. Dressed in a traditional maroon and mustard Salwar Kameez, and heavy jewellery, we reached the Temple premises for more display of colour and light, ending with a short burst of fireworks and dinner. Back home sleepy, but electrifyingly  fulfilled. The child in me was thoroughly rejoiced. 

The next day, Saturday, a working day, Diwali boom still in the air, we are pondering how to make an appearance at both parties…more, how to enjoy them both. The benevolent Rain Gods decide precipitation can't be held back, they decide to celebrate their own Diwali before our parties begin. Hailstones come crashing in around 5pm. For an hour or so, it was thunderous, and painful on the collecting hands. So beautiful!!! Truly thoughtful gesture, all was done before 7pm. No room for traditional wear today with water everywhere, we reached the venue to celebrate with the Tamil Community first, one of the first ones to arrive, not very unusual, carrying a very non-traditional tray of brownies. We barely say hello before we have to wave our goodbyes, to arrive at the Indian Restaurant to celebrate with my Husband’s colleagues and their families. Games had already begun, we were punished for arriving late, a request for song and dance was met with reluctance, hence substituted with a short speech from both of us. Those people who hadn’t seen the reclusive Premkumar family…there!!! A lavish Indian Spread, a game of Tambola, Bollywood Music and disorganized and ‘rhythmless’ dancing on the makeshift dance floor. Typically Indian and fun!!! It was time to shut shop at midnight, got back home sleepy yet again....but extremely happy.

The Finale was to take place in the evening on Sunday at the Temple Premises, again…starting with games and ending with dinner. After a hectic Friday and Saturday, most people probably thought the same…'we are not going to win anything’ and ‘let’s get ready for Monday’. We decided to skip the do after reaching the venue and finding a small count of people, for a simple Chinese dinner at the Greek Club. Nothing traditional about it. At the end of the Weekend…all I have is…

What a fabulous Diwali…happy, colourful and safe…just like I had wished all my Friends and Family.