Goating in Kinshasa

(Written about six months ago, and just dusted down from the shelves before it becomes totally out of date)

We all try and make the most of our situation, which some people find quite difficult in Kinshasa. So it was with amazement that we recently heard a woman in her late thirties say that her two favourite places in the world were Beirut and Kinshasa. She’s been in the DRC about two years in all, with less than half of that in Kinshasa. When asked why, she gave reasons which I didn’t find at all convincing – about the fascinating politics and stuff like that.

Funnily enough, I had a curiously similar feeling about the place a few days later. I suddenly wondered where in the world can I do this and feel so content?

To elaborate on what “this” is: we had agreed at very short notice (30 minutes) to join some Congolese friends at an open-air restaurant which consisted of nothing more than about forty tables and a very large built-in barbeque. It occupies a mini-square created by three buildings, off the pavement in the centre of town. We were told that the speciality is goat, and we were not invited to choose anything else.

The catering was not exactly flawless. The beer was not very cold, as there had been a power cut for the whole day, but one of the party took the warmish beers to another bar and swapped them for cold ones. They didn’t serve wine, so our host rushed home and brought back four bottles which the management allowed us to drink with no objections – all done in twenty minutes or so.

Drinks sorted, two huge plates of meat, cut into little pieces that we could pick up with toothpicks, were put in the middle of the table and the grazing began.

It was then, as I enjoyed the warm evening, listening to the hum of people having a really good time, that I suddenly felt really at ease. Where else could I do this? There are joints in Nairobi which are a bit similar (but rather grotty) and the night weather there is cold; there are many cities with delightful open-air eating places, but this totally unpretentious (though clean and decent) place is very different. There are cities with glamour and cities with interest: Kinshasa comes very far down the list on both of these topics. But this place was easy to get to, you could park right in front, and it was welcoming.

So was that all it was – nice climate and no hassle? Maybe it was simply relief that you can lead a comparatively normal – if not ideal – life here. And to feel, as we have done on several occasions (to the horror of the security brigade) that one can pass a very nice evening on the Congolese side of town. It was also nice to share a meal with Congolese people and know that their preoccupations were not so different from ours. Talk inevitably drifted to the police, who are, in most people’s experience, the true DRC criminals. We discussed where the worst policemen situate themselves, and what horrors they try and perpetrate on us.

I don’t know the real reason. But somehow, I feel that that night was a turning point in my relationship with the city.

And the goat? They teased us by making bleating noises before we started, and giving a fictional life story of the animal. The meat itself was tough with plenty of gristle, which we were supposed to simply throw onto the ground whence it would be removed by . . .? But in spite of that, it was really nice. Coming from me, a vegetarian manqué, that’s high praise indeed.