Getting into embassies is typically a pain. Elaborate questions about who you want to meet, whether you have an appointment, verifying that the person is in his or her office, and then elaborate security procedures. My worst such experience wasn’t even with an embassy: it was trying to get into the USAID office in South Africa where I was due to give a presentation. Firstly I had to fill in forms, and then they wanted to confiscate my memory stick on which the presentation was stored, as well as confiscating my mobile phone. Then, fifteen minutes later, after all the forms had been completed, and I and everything on me subjected to minute searches, they wouldn’t let me it because none of the people I was supposed to meet – indeed, all the top brass of the mission – were in their offices. It took a lot of persuasion to get the guards to eventually allow me in – fifteen minutes late now, and a full thirty minutes after I had arrived – only to arrive at the conference room and to be greeted with the question “Where have you been?”
Obviously 9-11 had something to do with the US reaction, but it has been a trend for ages and most embassies are following similar procedures. The worst thing about it is that usually there’s nowhere to sit while you are waiting to be allowed in.
Here’s a different embassy experience. The British Embassy in Kinshasa has a social club that anyone can join (with elementary enquiry into your credentials and a personal recommendation from one member). Once you have that card you can go there for lunch every day – they do a nice home-cooked lunch – or sandwiches, or a drink after work. They have quite a few social events, such as quiz nights, big screen sporting events, Royal Weddings etc; and a barbecue every Friday evening. In this way it has become one of the main social fulcrums of Kinshasa.
The other thing about this embassy is that it has a dog mascot, called Dog. No one knows where it came from, but rumour has it that its owner abandoned it about three years ago and it found its way into the Embassy compound. It has a very friendly disposition, and, as you’d expect, has a totally gluttonous time every Friday night. During the week it gets fed in a rather haphazard way by various people in the Embassy.
But it’s never wanted to restrict its life to the Embassy compound, so, of an evening, it likes to take a stroll along the river banks where it enjoys socialising with other dogs.
But life is changing for everyone, Dog included. There are rumours that the securocrats are very worried about the security situation, especially in light of possible troubles around the forthcoming elections. So, the embassy has installed strict new security gates based on an air-lock type of system when you’re entering, with turnstiles when you leave. They are also worried about the risks of the club membership and mutterings about tightening that up as well.
The new security gates pose a big problem to poor Dog. Gone are the days when he could just slip in and out. He can’t use the turnstile, and the double doors of the airlock system are quite scary for him. Now he has to join the queue like everyone else, and try to make his presence known. Unfortunately, he’s not the type to bark, so he just hangs around waiting for someone to do the right thing and say “after you, mon chien”.
If they do tighten up the club membership and entry on Friday nights it’ll be a big loss. But maybe, like Dog, they’ll find a way of adapting to the new rules.
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