"In Matadi, behind the hotel in which I am a church evangelist, every night ignites the air with songs imported ancestral beliefs have failed to erase. Earthy harmony, rhythm forgotten compass of the tree, bamboo and rain. The mists of time in voices of deep beauty, persistent primitive atavism on percussion, Africa or the origin of everything. Even a stubborn atheist, like me, has trouble distinguishing the special effects, the tricks of the religions of the heartbeat of the earth "
I'm still in Kinshasa. On Saturday I went through the Embassy of Angola , was closed but they said they needed a "note verbale" from my embassy and that in a week could have the transit visa. Then I went to the English, also closed, but I talked to a Congolese who work in it and told me that on Monday closed. Emergency call from the consulate and the consul confirmed it.
In short, until Tuesday, I can not start the paperwork and hopefully the 16 I have a visa, which means that I'm coming just in time for the 4,500 km that I have left (and waste to the stage of Botswana )
'm in a hotel in Matete, a suburb of Kinshasa, I came here with Dada, the caretaker of the embassy parking (good person, but very heavy) I'm the only white neighborhood, and I have taken all greet me and I want to invite. It is a hard and difficult area, as everything Kinshasa, here life clings to the wall, dive into puddles or do whatever, but goes on and on.
Photo: Chocolate bars (small children Dada)
Kinshasa (DRC)
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