Back
in Kinshasa after 5 weeks of cholera intervention, and wondering …
What
will I wear for my sister’s wedding?
Do
the new born babies of my best friends look like the fathers, because its
nature’s way of telling them it really is their offspring?
Why
can’t I ask him to go for a beer and a rock concert anymore?
Why
did the parents of my Congolese colleague gave him the name ‘Bienfait’? And
more, why not?
How
is my friend doing after the hospital in Kunduz was bombed?
All
of a sudden I get scared that my friends and family will forget about me.
That they will remember me as ‘that crazy girl who worked with primates, spent
some time in the forest and then decided to chase epidemics in Africa’ but we
lost track of her somewhere between ebola and cholera.
My Norwegian friend
invented a word for this feeling, and it’s the weirdest (but very beautiful) word I heard in
years: “Smengel” (to be pronounced with Scandinavian accent). It’s the feeling
of not being missed anymore. To feel annoyed not to find the words to express
what situation you are in and to feel even more annoyed when nobody understands
you.
One
day I would love to write a book, not because I think my story is more
interesting than anyone else’s, but I am scared that I (and others) will forget
everything that is happening and has happened. Being alone in the forest of
Cameroon I read a book about an anthropologist and his work in the same area.
Everything sounded familiar, and I felt like someone understood. I was not
imagining things! Absurd situations, difficult to explain, and to believe can
become daily business before you know it.
Entre
loup et chien?
 |
| Checking water sources during the Cholera outbreak, Kindu, RDC. (Sept, 2015) |
