Børnehjem, African dance og bytur.

 Jamen tiden går hurtigt når man har det sjovt. Fransk kører derud af, jeg har meget få problemer med at snakke med folk hernede nu, og jeg forstår næsten alt der bliver sagt. Det gør det hele en del mere behageligt. Men sidst skrev jeg omkring at vi skulle hen på et børnehjem, og det er nu ved at være lidt over en uge siden vi var der.

Drengene har fået sponsoreret en masse fodbold trøjer, så der var både
Barcalona, Frankrigs national hold og  Chelsea der spillede kampene.

Jean hentede os klokken 9, jeg havde taget en af mine fodbolde med som gave til børnene, vand og selvfølgelig mit kamera. Vi kørte ned af en grusvej, kom til et sted hvor vi kunne parkerer bilen, og inde bag en mur var børnehjemmet så. Der var meget rent! Noget der rimelig sjældent hernede. Men rent, og stort, der var en kæmpe have hvor børnene kunne lege og bagved var det en fodbold bane hvor der blev spillede seriøse kampe. Vi var nogle af de første til at ankomme til Samui Social som stedet hed, og lige pludselig hørte vi en masse larm og råberi, og jeg blev ærligtalt en smule skræmt. Ind af porten kommer der en truck kørende med laddet fuldt af børn der råber og hujer. Alle iførte blå fodbold bluser. Et par minutter senere ankommer endnu en, og endnu en alle sammen med børn i fodboldtøj.
Vi fik en rundvisning af faciliteterne, og selvom man i Danmark ville kalde det usselt, var det noget af det mindst usselt jeg har set i lang tid - fordi jeg vidste de gjorde noget godt. Det var et professionelt team der klarede alle børnene, der var en læge, en psykolog, en pædagog og en masse andre medhjælpere. Rundvisningen var ikke så stor fordi stedet ikke var så stort. Der var plads til 18 sovende børn, og det var for det meste de aller værst ramte børn de tog ind og gav dem et sted af sove. Ellers gik projektet ud på at køre ud på gaderne og hjælpe med at bringe børnene derhen, så de kunne lege, gå i skole, men vigtigst af alt - være børn. Jeg var meget overrasket over så unge børnene var, de var helt nede i alderen 4 år og opefter. Og det foruroligende ved at se dem var at de ikke lignede 4 årige, de lignede voksne mænd, i den måde de gik på, snakkede på og generelt opførte sig på.
Hernede er det for det meste drengene der bliver sendt på gaden, de lever hernede i bander med en anfører, hvis job det er at søge for at hele gruppen får mad. Hver medlem skal så skaffe penge på en eller anden måde, og størstedelen af pengene bliver spillet væk om aftenen imod andre bander. Disse børn leger ikke, de sover ikke i senge, de spiser ikke ordentligt mad, personlig hygiejne kender de ikke til. Deres liv er lort, for at sige det mildt.

Det her billede er en smule hårdt, og måske også lidt utydeligt,
men det er et billede af 3 gadebørn der sover på pap med et lagn
over sig, på gaden, iblandt en masse affald.

Jeg blev bare overrasket over at se så få piger på børnehjemmet. Grunden jeg fik var, 1: prostitution (sagt som om det var en selvfølge - hvilket fik mig til at få kuldegysninger over hele kroppen) og 2: regeringen har det svære ved at se små piger på gaden end at se små drenge. Drenge har nemmere ved at klare sig, hvor imod piger umuligt kan klare sig. Og da jeg hørte de ord, fik jeg bare en følelse af magtesløshed - hvis regeringen ikke mener de vil hjælpe, så er alt håb jo ude.
Men sådan er det hernede, det skal man vende sig til. Man ser polioramte mennesker køre rundt i alternative rullestole, folk der sover på stranden, i skrald uden vand og mad. Folk der bogstavligt talt render rundt i deres eget lort. Alt imens at præsidenten hernede har 2 kæmpe huse ved vandet, en lejlighed længere inde i Pointe-Noire, eget jetflyt, lejligheder på Manhatten, Paris og i Monaco. Alt imens at hans folk lever i forfald.
Hernede kan en familie leve i en uge for 5000 CFA, det er lidt over 40kr. Derfor kommer der altid mindst to personer ud for at lave et arbejde på dit hus, derfor arbejder chaufførerne glædeligt på lørdage, og derfor skal man ikke føle dårlig samvittighed når han sidder ude i bilen og venter - fordi han tjener penge, det er hans job, hans måde at forsørge sin familie på.
Teddy rejste fra Democratic Republic of Congo for at slippe for at være soldat, han fik arbejde her i Pointe-Noire, men hans kone og 4 børn bor stadigt i DRC. Så hver gang han får en bonus, som her til jul, køber han bøger og tøj til sine børn. Det er over 2 år siden han sidst har set dem, men han kommer hver dag på arbejde med et smil, fordi han er heldig - han har et arbejde og kan forsørge sin familie, så må han leve med at han sjældent ser dem, men han klarer det.
Nå det var lidt at et sidespring. Men vi blev på børnehjemmet i nogle timer, og vi så alle de drenge der blev hentet i fodboldtøj spille imod hinanden. Jeg blev glad da de brugte min bold til at spille med - især fordi jeg vidste det var kvalitet, og ikke en bold der ville tage skade så let. En anden ting jeg blev lidt glad for ved den bold var at det var en blød bold - fordi de spiller på bare tær hernede. Der blev kæmpet en del og jeg sad og så kampene.
Jeg havde allerede fået af vide at jeg ikke måtte tage billeder af børnenes ansigter fordi det var deres identitet, og de vidste ikke hvad man lavede. Arbejderne på hjemmet fortalte, at ens slemmeste forestillinger omkring hvad der har været sket med de her børn, er ikke engang i nærheden af hvad der i virkeligheden er sket. Så jeg tog kun billeder af dem der spillede, eller når de var i grupper. Undtagen én. Der var den her lille dreng, med de smukkeste øjne jeg har set som satte sig ved siden af mig på bænken. Alle de andre børn holdt sig væk, fordi jeg er en så anderledes skikkelse for dem, at jeg er skræmmende. Men ikke for ham her, han prøvede på alle de dialekter han kunne på congolesisk og på fransk at tale med mig. Og da jeg fortalte ham at jeg spillede fodbold blev han bogstavligtalt henrykt.

Efter lidt tid, spurgte han så om jeg ikke ville tage et billede af ham, og det ville jeg selvfølgelig. Det billede er nu et af mine ynglings! Men han reaktion på billedet da jeg viste ham det var uventet. Han stirrede bare og så nærmest ligeglad ud, indtil at jeg sagde til ham at det var billedet "se det er billedet af dig". Først der gik det op for mig, at det var nok første gang den her dreng havde set sit eget ansigt, og jeg lod ham derfor kigge lige så lang tid på billedet som han ville.
Da en af kampene var ovre kom der flere drenge hen til bænken, og min lille ven var løbet ind for at hente vand, men da han kom tilbage sørgede han for at de andre drenge flyttede sig nok til at han kunne sidde ved siden af mig. Og han fulgte mig også resten af dagen derude.
Vi tog hjem omkring en 12 tiden da vi skulle have gæster klokken 16. Vi havde inviteret hele min mors team herhjem på dansk grillmad, og vi var mere end spændte. 18 mennesker skulle vi blive og da vi kom hjem fra børnehjemmet havde Teddy allerede forberedt alt salaten og marineret kødet. Efter alle forberedelserne var færdige begyndte de første gæster at ankomme - det var desværre kun de ansatte der talte fransk, og ikke deres ægtefæller, men der blev oversat lidt nu og her. Folk kom sjaskende sådan omkring klokken 17-18 stykker, og så var vi fuldtallige. Maden blev sat op som buffet, og folk begyndte at spise. Vi havde livlige samtaler omkring Danmark og vores liv, og omkring Congo og deres liv.
De var meget interesseret i skoler og hospitaler og især om hvordan vores arbejdsløsheds antal var så lavt.
Jeg viste dem billeder af huset i Danmark, omkring mig og mig som student, billeder af min søster, og af mine veninder. Og alle elskede det!
Så kom jeg desværre til at lave en fejl. Vi forklarede omkring jul i Danmark, hvad man spiser hvor længe man spiser og sådan. Så spørger en af dem så "jamen hvad med kirke? går I ikke i kirke?", jeg forklarede at nogle gjorde og andre gjorde ikke, det var lidt et valg man tog. Og det var nok det mest fornærmende jeg kunne gøre. De tager deres religion så seriøst hernede at hvis man ikke er lige så troende som dem er det en fornærmelse på deres tro. Jeg prøvede så godt jeg kunne at forklare at jeg ikke var opvokset med kirkegang og at bede, men der var ikke noget at gøre, en anden spurgte så "er det fordi du ikke respekterer folk der tror", og jeg måtte igen ud i en forklaring omkring mit liv og min tro.
Egentligt skulle jeg slet ikke havde bevæget mit ud i det emne, jeg skulle havde ladet det ligge fordi jeg glemte at jeg ikke var i Danmark. Jeg var ikke et sted hvor man kunne forklare hvordan man troede, hvor ofte man gad og stadigt argumentere for at være nogenlunde kristen. Det var altså en fejl jeg lærer af.
Men det var weekenden. Mandagen startede, som sædvanligt, med fransk, og endnu mere fransk. Jeg var ude og hjælpe Teddy, og ude og handle ind, om aftenen dyrkede min mor og jeg pilates - fra en CD vvi havde med fra Danmark - meget hårdere end man skulle tro. Tirsdag var nogenlunde det samme - det tog mig lidt til at vende mig til at jeg ikke kan forvente at ting sker så hurtigt som i Danmark. Hvis jeg vil ud og hjælpe til, skal jeg vente til at folk er klar, og det har jeg det fair nok med nu. Tirsdag eftermiddag ringede Kate til mig, en engelsk dame jeg mødte på Samui Social, og hun spurgte om jeg ville ses til en drink. Vi snakkede dejlig længe om alt muligt, og hun fortalte mig omkring hvor prostitutionen foregår hernede og hvad man kan prøve på at gøre for at forhindre det. Det skræmmende ved det var bare, at du kan sagtens forbyde prostitution hernede, sagtens fjerne de fra gaderne, men så ville der være folk der ikke tjente penge. Så ville de folk der lever af det, højst sandsynligt dø af sult, fordi dette var den sidste udvej.
Nå men hun spurgte om jeg ville med om aftenen til noget African Dance. Så om aftenen hentede Kate og hendes mand, mig og min mor og vi kørte til Totals sted hvor man kan dyrke alt muligt sport.
Dansen var en blanding af Zumba og Arobic, dog med et stort twist af afrikans dans. Og det var rigtig sjovt! Vi svedte rigtig rigtig meget!!
Resten af ugen gik lidt som den forgående, undtagen at fredag aften blev vi inviteret til en Øl fest, af et hollandsk par, hvor konen arbejdede for et bryggeri hernede. Vi tog derud, og det var rigtig hyggeligt - vi mødte to unge hollandske mænd der havde været på rundrejse i Afrika de sidste 7 måneder. Dem inviterede min mor på middag om søndagen.
Senere tog jeg videre i byen for at mødes med en pige der hedder Sara, hende og en fyr der hedder Thomas er begge udstationeret fra Holland herned, og arbejder for Heinekien. Det var rigtig rigtig morsomt, og jeg hyggede mig utrolig meget, indtil min mobil blev stjålet og mine penge. Problemet var ikke selve mobilen, men alle numrene jeg havde på den. Jeg havde lige bygget en omgangskreds op og nu havde jeg mistet numrene. Dog fandt vi senere ud af at jeg kan få det samme simkort igen. Så må jeg bare håbe på at folk ringer eller skriver til mig!
- Lørdagen brugte jeg i sengen, jeg havde fået noget maveinfluenza, som jeg stadigt ikke endnu er kommet mig over. Det var meningen af mine forældre og jeg skulle have massage lørdag klokken 14, men eftersom jeg ikke havde det så godt, tog de to gamle bare afsted uden mig.
- Og selvfølgelig kom de hjem og fortalte at det var det bedste de havde prøvet.
Søndag kom de to turister på besøg, og det var utrolig lærerigt at høre omkring deres rejse, oplevelser og at lære af deres tålmodighed. Fordi det her er Afrika, og om du vil det eller ej så tager tingene mindst 5 gange så lang tid hernede som derhjemme.
I dag, har jeg stadigt ligget syg med maven, og lavet en masse fransk. I morgen skal jeg have fransk om morgenen, og klokken 10 bliver mig og min far hentet og så skal vi ud og have tennis undervisning ! Glæder mig til det! Klokken 15 skal vi til en klinik for at få et medical bevis vi skal bruge til at blive medlem af Totals sports område, og om aftenen skal mig og min mor igen ud og danse afrikansk! Glæder mig til at se hvad de næste uger bringer.

Well time runs fast when you are having fun. French are going great, now I have very few problems talking with people downhere and I understand almost everything they say. It makes everything much more comfortable. But last time I wrote about us going to a orphanage, and now it is about a week since we visited.

Jean picked us up 9 o’clock. I had brought my footballs, as a gift to the kids, water and of courses my camera. Vi drove down a dirt road, and arrived at a parking lot and behind the next wall was the orphanage. There were very clean (!) something very rare down here. It was clean and big, there is a huge garden where the kids could play and behind the house there is a football area where the kids played very serious games. We were among the first to arrive at Samu Social which is the name of the place, and then suddenly we heard a lot of noice and shouting and I have to admit that I was a little scared. There comes a truck through the gate with the back filled with kids shouting. Everybody was dressed in blue football clothes, and a couple of minutes after another truck arrives, and another filled with kids in football clothes.

We had a tour of the facilities, and even though you might call it bad in Denmark this was one of the least worst places I had seen in a long time – because I knew they were doing a good thing. There is a professional team to help the kids, a doctor, a psychologist, a teacher and many other workers. The tour wasn’t that long because the place isn’t that big. There is room for 18 children to sleep, and it is mostly the kids who got it worst they take in and give them a safe place. The workers, doctors and other voluntaries’ drive out on the street and help convincing the kids to come to Samu Social, so play, go to school but most importantly be children. I was very surprised of how young the children are, 4 years old to 18 years old. But the most disturbing thing to see was that they didn’t look 4 years old, they looked like grown (small) men. The way they walked, talked and behaved .
Down here it is mostly the boys that gets send to the streets, they live in gangs with a leader whose job is to make sure that the group gets food. Every member’s job is to get money, one way or another and the majority of the money is gambled away in the evening against other gangs.
These kids don’t play, doesn’t sleep in beds and don’t eat prober food. Personal hygiene is a foreign word to them. Their lives are shit to put it mildly.

I was very surprised to see so few  girls in the orphanage. The reasons I got was, 1: prostitution (said as if it were a matter of course – which gave me chills all over my body) and 2: the government finds it mor difficult to see little girls on the street than little boys. Boys is more likely to survive, where it is impossible for girls to survive. That gave me a feeling of powerlessness – if the government won’t help, then all hope is lost.
But that’s the way it is down here, and you have to get used to it. You see people with polio driving around in their alternative wheelchairs. People are sleeping on the beach and streat, in dirt and without water or food. People are literally running around in their own shit. All while the president has two big houses by the beach, a condo in central Pointe-Noire and Brazzaville, own jet plane which he uses to go to his apartments on Manhattan, Paris and Monaco. All while his people are living in decay.
Down here, a family can live a week for 5000 CFA, that’s about 6 euros. That’s why there always comes at least two people out to work on your house, that’s why the workers gladely works on a Saturday and that’s why you can’t feel bad for him when he is sitting and waiting in the car – because he is making money, it is his job, his way of taking care of his family.
Teddy our chef left DRC so he wouldn’t become a soldier. He got a work here in Pointe-Noire, but his wife and 4 children still lives in DRC. So every time he gets a bonus, like here for Christmas, he buys books and clothes for his kids. It is over 2 years since he has seen them, but he comes to work every day with a smile on his face, because he is very fortuned  - he has a good job, can support  his family, even though he has to live without seeing them every day.
So that was a little leap from the original story.
But we stayed at the orphanage for a couple of hours and saw all the boys play football. I was very happy when they played with my football – especially because it was a quality ball that wouldn’t hurt that much if you played barefooted.
I had already been told not to take pictures of the children’s faces because it was their identity and they didn’t know what you were doing. The workers on the orphanage told us that even our worst imagination of what had happened to these children wouldn’t even be close to what had really happened. So I only took pictures of the children playing football or when they were in groups. Except from one. There was this little boy, with the most beautiful eyes I have ever seen, he was sitting next to me on the bench. All the other kids had avoided me because I am so different that I am almost scary. But not to this kid, he tried on every dialect of Congolese and French to speak to me. And when I told him that I played football he was excited.

After a little while he asked me if I could take a picture of him, and I did, of course. And that picture is now one of my favorite! But his reaction to the picture when I showed him it was unexpected. He just stared  and looked  indifferent undtil I said “look it is a picture of you”. First there it dawned on me that this was properly the first time he had seen his own face, and I gave him the camera to look at himself for as long as he liked.
When one of the games was finished more boys came over to the bench and my little friend was inside to get some water, but when he came back he made sure that the other boys moved over so he could sit next to me. He followed me for the rest of the day.
We left at around 12 o’clock because we were going to have company at 16.
We had invited my mother’s team for Danish barbeque and we were very excited. 18 people in total and when we came back from the orphanage Teddy had already prepared the salad and marinated the meat. After all the preparations was done the first guests started to arrive. Unfortunately it was only the employees that spoke English so we had to translate a little. The last guests came around 17-18. The food was served as an buffet and people started to eat. We had lively conversations about Denmark and our lives and about Congo and their lives.
They were very interested in the school and hospital system and especially about how our unemployment rate was so low.
I showed them pictures of the house in Denmark, of me as a student and pictures of my sister and friends. Everybody loved it!
But then I unfortunately made a mistake. I was explaining about Christmas in Denmark, what we eat, drink and traditions. And then one of the guests asks “what about church? Don’t you go to church?”, I explained that some do and others don’t, it was a choice you took. And that was properly the most offending thing I could have said. They take their religion very serious and if you don’t believe as much as they do it is an insult on their believes.
I tried my best to explain that I wasn’t raised with payers and going to church. But there was nothing to do, one of the other guests then said “is it because you don’t respect people who believe?”, and again I had to explain about my life and believe.
Actually I shouldn’t have tried to defend my belives because I forgot I was in Congo. I am in a place where you could explain how and when you believe. But I am learning of my mistakes.
But that was the weekend. Monday started, as usually , with French , and more French. I was out helping Teddy with the shopping and in the evening my mother and I were doing pilates – a lot harder than I thought. Tuesday was much the same – it has taken me some time to realize that things don’t happen as fast as in Denmark. If I want to help people, I have to wait for people to be ready and I have learned that now.
Tuesday afternoon Kate called me. An English lady I met at Samu Social and she asked me if I wanted to go for a drink. We had a lovely long talk about everything, and she told me about prostitution down here and what you could do to prevent it. The scary thing is that it is very easy to forbid prostitution, you can easily remove it from the streets, but then people wouldn’t make money, and then the people that lives from the income will properly die of hunger because this is their last chance.
Kate then asked me if I want to go to African dance in the evening. It is a mix of Zumba and Arobics, but with a twist of African dance. It was very fun! And we were sweating a lot!
The rest of the week was as the last, except from Friday evening we were invited, to a beerparty, by a couple from Holland, where the woman works for a brewery down here. Vi arrived to the party, and it was very lovely. We met to guys from Holland that had been on a roadtrip down Africa for the last 7 months. My mom invited them to dinner that Sunday.
Later that evening I went out to meet a girl named Sarah. Her and a guy named Thomas are both stationed here from Holland and are working for Heineken. It was very very much fun and I had a lovely time until my cellphone was stolen along with my money.  The problem wasn’t the phone, the problem was all my numbers was gone. I had just started making a social life and now I had lost all the numbers.  Afterwards we found out that it was possible to get the same sim-card. So now I hope that people contact me.
Saturday I spend it in bed, I have had some stomach trouble. Me and my parents were supposed to have a massage at 14 but because I wasn’t feeling that well my parents went without me.
And of course they came home and talked about how amazing it was. Sunday the two tourists came to visit and it was very educating to listen about their trip, experiences and to learn from their patience. Because this is Africa and whether you like it or not things takes at least 5 times as long as home in Denmark.
Today I have been sick with my stomach again and done a lot of French homework. Tomorrow I am going to have French again in the morning and afterwards we are going to have tennis lessons! And I am looking forward to that.
Looking forward to seeing what the next weeks brings of experiences.