Giles 11.26.19–Okay, if we don’t get a response or two from this entry (there’ve been fewer than I expected), I’ll know that no one is reading these.
Well, it was bound to happen, I guess. People who travel tell of encounters with corrupt police in countries all over the world. We had not experienced it ourselves, but as of now, Annie and I can’t say we’ve never been arrested.
Our driver, Josef, is one of three or four hired by the Institute to chauffeur staff to and from places (See earlier description of bumper-car traffic). On our outing to the National Museum, we happened to get on the wrong side of a traffic cop at a certain intersection. And since we couldn’t understand the Lingala tongue, it was impossible to say how much trouble we were in and why. We were signaled to pull over for a chat with one of three officers, unaware that Josef’s registration and license were both copies, not originals. (Later Josef explained that it’s not unusual for commercial drivers to carry only copies for safety from theft, which is frequent.) Next thing we knew two officers slid into the seat next to me and we were ordered to the police station. At first, annoyed, we whispered to each other that museums offer a certain kind of cultural experience, and police stations offer yet another.
Like so much in Kinshasa, the police headquarters were dingy, shabby, cramped, and poorly lit, with wires hanging everywhere. The seriously obese man (unusual for DRC, as most men are quite thin) who sat us down and interrogated us was sweaty and brusque. He wore no uniform and lacked a few buttons on his soiled shirt. For more than an hour in a tiny room we watched people coming and going, uttering unintelligible questions and orders.
At one point, the interrogator grabbed for my phone. I had taken a couple of pix of the cops at the outset, and he wanted to see them. They’d been deleted when I was told they were angry about them. Annie dived between us, in an act of sudden bravery, though I had stuck the phone in my pocket already. We remained calm until our driver’s “cousin” (we’re told that everyone here has a cousin who can help in these situations) came in saying that if we could just pay a thousand dollars for taking pictures, we’d be set free. I exploded, “Put us in jail then.” “Okay, okay,” he quickly revised, “a hundred dollars then.” I repeated, “Jail then.” We’d already paid $40 to keep Josef’s car from being impounded. We stalled.
We knew this was all about extortion, and once a person pays, they’re free to go—no paperwork, no official ticket, nothing but a quick exchange, my hand to your hand. When the policemen stepped into the hall to discuss our fate, Annie quickly slipped all my money except a $20 bill into a hidden pocket in her purse. They couldn’t ask for more than we had (they always think white people are rich), so when we showed them the $20, they reluctantly accepted it and let us go. So we got off for a total of $60, pretty cheap fare for a firsthand, inside look into the kind of law enforcement that goes on in places where no one is paid a fair wage, if paid at all, which leaves the poor cops with little alternative but to do what they know the crooked people are doing at the top. Crazy. And just maybe, the cops could feed their kids a little bit more the next day.
Congo Calling 
Lock them up! Lock them up! Just kidding, of course. So glad you were safe when pulled over. Loved your play by play description. I read every word each of you sends…. I gobble up the words, so to speak.
Love, Suzanne
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Your introduction to the Congolese in Salt Lake has been such a blessing in our lives, Suzanne. Thank you for that and your generous expressions of love. Giles
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So much compassion you felt for the rip/off police 👮 officer. I’m proud to be family w you guys . Whew 🤦♀️Glad u r ssfe
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That’s amazing! Glad you’re safe. Can’t wait to hear all the stories in person. ❤️
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Pretty dodgy situation — and Annie so physically adroit at dodging the troubles! Smart to opt for jail!
Did you get to the National Museum in the end? Sounds like there wasn’t an inordinate amount of time taken for the ‘transaction’ — irksome though it was.
BOB says “I was in jail when I was two — so you have nothing on me!”
Love to you both!!!!!
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Thanks Gloria and Bob, hmmm, jail at two. Yep you’re right, I have nothing on you in too many ways, but I’m still in good company. Have a great time in London. Be sure to take her to the Tait, Bob. That’s my favorite, along with Simpsons on the strand for roast beef and Yorkshire pudding , and for dessert, a good trifle loaded with cream. Giles
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Another day of excitement! You’ll be reliving many things when you get home—which is soon! We’ve really enjoyed your epistles and are looking forward to hearing a more detailed report in person. What an education!
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You’re so right, Mary Ann, about reliving this and others. I’m looking forward to sitting with you and Tony and sharing experiences from this amazing land. Thanks, Giles
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This of course makes me immediately think of the line “Bring it on boys, I’ve bene preparing for this day for a long time!” I’m glad you are okay! Didn’t love the first bolded line, but…
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What a crazy link to my risky ways, Liza. Yes, they do seem to have an impetuous thread that links them. Thanks for the reminder. And thanks for being in touch with What’sApp face time to keep us in touch with you and your darling kids. Love, Dad
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No wonder this post has no pictures. I know they are still on your camera. Please check the deleted file. Mom, very smart! Pretty scary experience.
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You’re right. I’ve got them from the deleted file and restored them. We’ll include them when we share stuff with you in a slide show or something. Naive, maybe but we were never really scared. Love to all, Dad
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Wow! Probably felt like you were in that police station forever!
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You’re right. TIme is funny that way.
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I’ve never been one to ever make comments, but I’ll make this exception to say that I have been reading everything that you two have written and loved every word and picture! What an experience you have had!
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