Friday List!

Sarah's List:

Mama Congo Success! Remember when we started an all-out campaign to get Anthony Bourdain to come to Congo (Tony, COME TO MAMA)? Well it worked! Okay, who are we kidding? It was a total coincidence that he came, but still...

Here he talks about the: "Most terrifying, stressful, physically difficult shoot of his life."

Speaking of terrifying things in Congo, could the Lord's Resistance Army get any worse? I guess so, it turns out they're funded by elephant poaching. That's real classy, Kony.

Is specialization the secret to a happy marriage, home and children? Maybe so. Read all about: The Retro Housewife: Feminists who say they're having it all--by choosing to stay at home. And The Gay Guide to Wedded Bliss.

“In the morning, I’ve got kid duty; Amy doesn’t even see the kids,” says Isabelle Dikland. “She does pickup and makes dinner every night.” (Gail Albert Halaban). Image from TheAtlantic here.

If you're reading this, there's a good chance we're somewhere over the Atlantic struggling with two little children. Remember Whac-a-Mole with Wings? One strategy we'll be using is car seats. Moms have tipped us off to taking your kid's car seat on the plane and it's kind of amazing. Your kids can't move and they're safe. The Car Seat Lady agrees.

You'll wish you were flying with an infant once you start flying with toddlers.

It only took 5 years, but we finally saw President Kabila. In our backyard. (Okay, he was here for an event, but it was basically our yard.) Jill and I really wished we had our Mama Congo business cards so we could slip him one. Whatever Joseph, we know you're already a fan.

And you go girls. TheGirlEffect.org.

Jill's List:

Spending today Googling "best pro-biotics for babies and their fathers" after Johan and Loulou both were told by our Belgian doc to get some to "restore stomach health."  (It's so funny how it's totally normal to get a script for Arnica, pro-biotics, or St. John's Wort from this doctor - he's not exactly crunchy.  Turns out it just more the Euro-norm.  Unfortunately, he hasn't quite realized that the pharmacies in Congo don't carry many of these lovely things.)  At least they've been thoroughly checked out by a guy who knows his way around a parasite or amoeba infestation.  I had nightmares that after returning to the States next week and saying, "Yeah, my kid's been vomiting off and on for a week...and we live in the Congo," the CDC Special Investigation Team would be called in for a simple virus.

Image from BioGaia website.  Anyone every tried these?  The packaging sure is cute!

Okay.  I also somehow managed to find this incredible bag during my exhaustive search in the name of my family's health:

Beautiful Besace bag "for the well-traveled woman" from Clair Vivier.

Four or so years ago, we hosted a dinner party at our home in Harrisonburg to spread the word and garner support for an idea.  That idea has been up and going strong for two years now.  Congrats, Friendly City Food Co-op!

Image from here.

This has been making the rounds like crazy - but it is so interesting.  (I say "Crawdad" - why?!  It doesn't match!)





Extremely excited for Istanbul this weekend.  What a week to visit!  The most interesting thing for us?  Everyone we've chatted with in Istanbul says that this is an "unprecedented" time in Turkish history and our family is super lucky to get a glimpse.  Absolutely no one has acted worried or concerned that we would be planning a little family va-cay in the middle of a monumental demonstration.  We are hoping to meet up with a friend of a friend (for coffee, of course) on Tuesday so that she can fill us in on everything.

Image from BBC.

Craving Paneer Saag by John and Rama.  Hopefully, I will have eaten at least 5 servings before the next Friday List.

Image from our friends at I Love My Burg.

Babies in boxes = public health is awesome. (Imagine the possibilities...)

Image from BBC.com

And.  A sweet blog I've been looking through this week.

Finally, we know some weirdos who do this here in Kinshasa...

The oddball club got its start 75 years ago in prewar Malaysia and now has nearly 2,000 chapters spanning all seven continents. It began with a group of British colonial officers and expats looking for ways to ease their weekend hangovers. The name came from their billet, often referred to as the Hash House, where they'd eat their monotonous corned-beef dinners, and the pastime they came up with was a wilder version of a British paper chase.

Kinshasa Hash House Harriers picture from here.

***many apologies for the lack of a pink arrow this week...we're between computers***

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Running the Wall

All summer, I read about running.

It started with a New Yorker article about Sammy Wanjiru, the troubled-yet-brilliant Kenyan distance runner.  I had a huge stack of back issues to catch up on but May 21, 2012 edition was my favorite. The descriptions of slow twitch muscles, VO2max, and lactate thresholds were strangely fascinating.  Almost as riveting as the human story that was Wanjiru's.

Sammy Wanjiru.  Image from WikiCommons. FaceMePLS from The Hague, The Netherlands

In Virginia, I mentioned this new literary obsession to Mama Congo Guest Blogger and everyone's favorite ultramarathoner, Andrew Jenner.  He said, "Here, read this" and handed me the thick 116th Boston Marathon program.  He promised me hours of fun.  It was.

Then, I came back to Kinshasa.  I told another teacher (particularly adept at book suggestions as well as a runner) that I wanted to read about running.  She threw this at me, saying, "The hipsters really like it, but he lost me at the point where he professed his love for the Walkman."

Before this book, I purposefully repeated the mantra that I was not a runner, I just liked reading about running.  However, my hipster tendencies took over and somewhere between passages like:

When I'm running I don't have to talk to anybody and don't have to listen to anybody. This is a part of my day I can't do without.

and

You end up exhausted and spent, but later, in retrospect, you realize what it all was for. The parts fall into place, and you can see the whole picture and finally understand the role each individual part plays. The dawn comes, the sky grows light, and the colors and shapes of the roofs of houses, which you could only glimpse vaguely before, come into focus.

I started to get curious about what it would be like to run.

I have run before, but not really.  I've always been that person who says, "Well, I hate running," just like my middle schoolers on run-the-mile day.  Plus, it felt hard to run with two little ones at home.  There was a brief time where I would cheat-run by making Elias go with me.  It usually started off strong and ended with me dragging and/or carrying him most of the way.  Who goes running with a 5 year old?

So, I decided the NHS should get involved.  And I downloaded a free podcast where an extraordinarily pleasant British woman tells me I am doing-a-good-job-and-now-it's-time-for-your-90-second-recovery-walk. Inspirational British pop fills in the spaces.

So, now I am running the wall three mornings a week thanks to Haruki Murakami and the NHS.

The wall?

This is the wall:

This concrete-barbed-wire-leafy-forest-path forms the periphery of our compound.  Once around is a little over 1 mile.  It's pretty great.  I ignore Johan when he tells me how fast he ran around four times.  And if I see Sarah also running the wall, I go the other direction, knowing we would both hate to have a running partner.

The wall at 5:45am is loud.  People are up and shouting for transport, children are crying, and sometimes I hear a rooster.  I can't see any of these things beyond the wall, but I hear them -even through my earbuds - and they remind me that I am thankfully not at a gym.

And it's true what Murakami says.  I don't have to talk or listen to anyone.  Except that awkward, breathless, "Bonjour!" - twice - as I run past the guard house. 

I'm not yet brave enough to be a runner runner.  But for those of you who are: Kinshasa actually has a lot of options.  There are these crazy people - many of whom I know and love.  And this club.  And then, there's the many folks who go out every Sunday for an energetic, national-fitness kind of communal run:

When we had our Kima Mbangu (Run Fast) 5K last year (which I, randomly, organized), Mamas Vida, NouNou, and YouYou ALL came to run.  And they actually ran it.  It was seriously impressive. 

Maybe this year, I'll be running with them.

**More running in Congo here.

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