Joyeux Noel

Kinshasa’s something of a ghost town at Christmas. And the Pope will surely be delighted when he observes, next time he’s here in December, that it definitely is not commercialised. Sure, there are a few plastic Christmas trees in hotels and supermarkets. And hawkers, ever optimistic, are selling bizarre blow-up Father Christmases. Otherwise the commercial scene is oddly untouched.

But when we drive into town on the morning of the 24th we notice an instant change in comportment. The police come to attention when we stop the car, and salute smartly, hoping for a Christmas present. In every shop that we enter they wish us Joyeux Noel. And I’m sure they mean it.

But, as you might expect, there are plenty of social orphans. Almost all expatriates have gone home. Many combined their evacuation with Christmas holidays to have a seven week break. Out of the total expatriate staff of the embassy of about 40, there are only five left.

On Christmas Eve we, determined to make the most of things, went out with four single women to a restaurant which was laying on a Christmas Special five course dinner. It was typical of these sort of things: we didn’t know some of them at all, and others very little, so had no idea how the evening would turn out. We needn’t have worried – they were funny and fun. We got home at 1.30, and had made four new friends whom we would invite to our party on the 26th.

On Christmas Day we were invited to the Ambassador’s Christmas lunch. We had been forewarned that it would either be deeply dreary and stiff (by someone who had turned down the invitation), or a sort of American pot luck suburban party where everyone brings a different dish. Both were wrong. Yes it was formal, with 26 people sitting around the table, with crested place cards, china and cutlery, but the atmosphere was very relaxed and the wine flowed freely. The ambassador’s wife who isn’t English, and is puzzled by the standard Christmas Dinner, had just got back from evacuation and brought back lots of food from France so we started with pate of foie gras and magret de canard.

But no amount of socialising can remove the isolation that a lot of single people feel – opening their presents alone is probably one of the most poignant things. A couple of days before Christmas one such person was looking a bit rough. “Hello,” we said, “have a nice time last night?” “Oh yes,” he said, “I was at the Ministry of Defence Party.” “Oh,” we said, surprised, knowing that everyone was away, “who was there?” “Me.”