Armageddon

Crazy storm last night. I kept waking up through the night and thinking, in a half-sleep, that this was it, any minute now we would be washed away. The skies ripped open and unleashed a torrent of rain such as I have never had the displeasure of experiencing before. And I usually like storms! When I was little, whenever there was a storm in the summer, I used to rush upstairs, put on my bathing suit, and run to the garden to dance in the rain under my mother’s amused gaze. And at night, the sound of rain hammering against the roof always makes me feel snug and protected, as in a cocoon. But something about the intensity of last night’s downpour made me nervous, and I woke up feeling quite unnerved despite the sunshine, with butterflies in my stomach that only went away after a long, impromptu yoga session in the living room.

For those of you who didn’t read F.’s blog on the subject back in January, did you know that the DRC gets struck by lightning more than anywhere else in the world? And did you know that in 1998, there were unconfirmed reports that all eleven members of a visiting football team were killed by a bolt of lightning which left the other team unhurt, just when the two teams were drawing 1-1? Voodoo, some said, and considering that this happened in Mbuji Mayi – one of the places that has suffered the most from outsiders, a soulless city with soulful people and the heart of the country’s diamond mining, a typical frontier post reminiscent of the Wild Wild West, and one of the more obscure and complicated places I have visited in DRC – I am only mildly surprised.

Mobile phone ad and diamond counter in Mbuji Mayi

All be it, the other night a group of us witnessed a most unusual phenomenon: every couple of seconds the whole sky would light up as if the gods were having a party and had set the strobe lights too strong. It was beautiful, mysterious and disquieting all at once. I was quite pleased not to be in an airplane for once.