It has been nearly two months since my last post on the blog, and the reader likely feels that I owe him something in the way of an explanation for this absence. Very well, he will have it.
On January 11, arrived back in the US from Cameroon. I had not initially planned this stop back home, but it was rendered necessary because of the need to apply for a long stay Schengen visa. My plans involved a protracted period of study in Lisbon in the spring. However, the Lord had other plans, and so it was that my application came back ungranted. After some time of discernment and prayer, I felt quite certain Our Lord wished me to go to the Democratic Republic of the Congo. I had, during my stay in Yaoundé, met several Congolese brothers who encouraged me to make the trip to Kinshasa because of the great potential for Children’s Rosary groups there. Therefore, I reached out to the contacts I had been given, made arrangements, applied for a visa, and—after a few fits and starts regarding the latter, finally had the visa in hand on Friday, February 20. Within a matter of hours, the flights were scheduled, the airport pickup coordinated, the half-packed bags brought forth and filled with clothing. I would fly out the following Monday.
However, within a few hours of the booking, it became clear that the flights would need to be delayed. A monster storm system was due to slam the East Coast on Monday, thus rendering any arrivals or departures increasingly unlikely.
Accordingly, the flights were shifted to Tuesday, and then finally off I went. The flights themselves went off without a hitch, and at 7:15 p.m. local time on Wednesday, I got off the plane at Kinshasa N’djili International Airport.
As the large Air France jet trundled up to the arrivals hall, I soaked in my first sights of the Congo. It was quite a warm night, not even touching below 75 degrees Fahrenheit; this was quite a strong difference for one who had just come tromping in from several inches of snow.
The customs hall was not large, but it was thankfully only our flight that was arriving at that time. Despite the usual delays of clearing passport control, I did not encounter any problems, having received my visa already stamped in my passport. Upon collecting my baggage, I went outside where I was approached by Fr. Francois Ouamba, the priest from the Missionaries of the Holy Apostles here in Kinshasa. He had agreed to host me during my stay and pick me up at the airport. He had come with Fr. Apollinaire, another MSA priest assigned to the mission in Kinshasa. Both are Cameroonian. Br. Samuel was also present, a seminarian for the MSA community completing pastoral work between his second and third years of seminary.
Quickly finding our way to their parked car, all four of us managed to get the bags to fit in the limited space, climbed in ourselves, and were on our way.
It turned out that Fr. Francois could not house me at his compound but instead put me up with a religious community down the road; they were part of the Society of the Most Holy Sacrament founded by St. Peter Julian Eymard. (picture below)
I was given quite a spacious room in the guest quarters and told Mass would be the next morning at 6:00 a.m., certainly enough incentive to get showered and quickly into bed.
The next morning after Mass, Lauds, and breakfast, I walked down with a brother named Alex to Fr. Francois’s house. This was the first time I could really get a look at Kinshasa in broad daylight. I am not quite sure what I was expecting, but what I saw was a city that looked remarkably similar to the other major metropoles of Africa that I had visited. The ground had a sandy quality to it like that of Dar es Salaam, and along the way children on their way to school or household chores nodded or smiled in greeting.
Upon arriving at Fr. Francois’s place, I could see this was an operation that was still in the process of getting underway. The eventual goal is for the order to have a formation house on the property they currently own. However, much more money is needed for this, and they only have a part of it built. There are a couple of young men residing there and taking courses before they head off to Yaoundé for seminary. Further, Br. Samuel is there completing his pastoral year.
After I had gone around the premises with Fr. Francois and had lunch, I came back to the SSS (Society of the most Holy Sacrament) community for evening prayers.
The next day, Friday, I had a surprise appointment I had not been expecting at the chancery for the Archdiocese of Kinshasa. My requests for an appointment regarding the Children’s Rosary had been quickly responded to, and Fr. Apollinaire graciously volunteered to drive me downtown, which ended up being no small feat in a city like Kinshasa. The traffic jams are downright terrible here, even worse than what I experienced in Nairobi or Dar es Salaam and probably only surpassed by Kampala.
Kinshasa is a city of 17 million people, which for comparison, is more than twice the size of New York. The road infrastructure is limited severely overstressed, with cars, taxis, taxivans, semitrucks, pedestrians, motorcyclists, vendors, and hand-pulled wagons all competing for the very limited space. In addition, the roads are often in a deteriorated state, necessitating caution to navigate around areas of missing pavement and potholes. Not only this, but many of the cars are quite dilapidated themselves, so often when a large overloaded truck breaks down in the middle of the road, this can back up the road for a long distance just itself. Finally, the driving is quite aggressive, with cars often forcing their way to the left and right of the lane of traffic and then forcing their way back into traffic flow when they meet an obstacle such as oncoming traffic or some vendors on the side of the road. Thus, what ensues is a dead-stopped lane of cars with two also dead-stopped lanes on either side composed of cars trying to force their way into the already packed center lane. The handful of traffic lights downtown cycle through their reds, yellows, and greens, while motorists hardly pay them any mind. It is almost unbelievably stressful and difficult, and our drive lasted for nearly two and a half hours until we finally pulled into the chancery offices. I was so thankful that Fr. Apollinaire had been so good as to take me.
The meeting succeeded in getting the ball rolling on diocesan approval for the Children’s Rosary to be started in parishes and schools, and so I was very happy I had been able to go. I first met with Fr. Clet, a dryly humorous but evidently also respected and efficient man who is the diocesan chancellor. He it was with whom I had been originally put in contact, and he wished for me to meet with the priest in charge of pastoral affairs, but that cleric was not in. Therefore, I was able to speak with his deputy who promised to present the information and materials I had conveyed to his superior at the earliest opportunity.
That afternoon, after another very long and draining drive back, I reached the formation house completely exhausted. It is amazing how the traffic jams, especially when it is hot, humid, dusty, and loud, can cause such exhaustion.
On Sunday, I went with Fr. Francois to a parish named St. Joseph of Arimathea where he and Fr. Apollinaire often celebrate Mass(picture above). The Mass was quite nice with a noticeably skilled choir and beautiful songs. Afterwards, we had lunch back at the MSA house with a couple of gentlemen from the parish, one of whom was a Latin and French teacher who had once been a seminarian. He was very nice, and I was glad to have gotten to know him. As someone who has taken years of Latin myself, it is a bit of a niche subject, and so finding someone else with whom I can relate a bit on the topic is always a nice development.
Yesterday, since there were no definite plans given that the archdiocese had not responded yet about approval, I went to Fr. Francois’s funeral Mass back at the St. Joseph’s. I have now been to a few funerals and wakes in Africa, and this one was not so very different. The only major difference I noticed was that when the hearse left the parking lot after the Mass, it blared a loud siren, I suppose to make way for itself and also to announce its departure. Still, the sight of the leader of this solemn funeral procession, blaring and honking his way out of the parking lot made a distinct impression on me. That afternoon, I was able to finish some work and then go to Adoration and evening prayer. The Adoration occurs most days here as it is an integral part of their charism. A picture is attached.











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