“Are they flogging?”

“What?”

“That smell. Are they flogging for the bugs, like they did in Indonesia?” I question my husband.

“You mean fogging” he replies, his face giving away that he finds my slip-up entertaining, “and no, that’s not fogging for bugs you smell, it’s burning garbage.”

Welcome to my life in Africa, where I learn something new everyday.

I have to say, so far, the transition has been quite smooth, and the fact that I can speak French, although not perfectly, has made the move much easier.  I’m able to go get my phone set up, and ask where to find things in the store without having to use charades(finally). Our family is rolling with the punches and if a cold, a few minor stomach issues, and a broken phone is as much as we have to deal with while settling in, we can handle that.

I love that my third culture kids are absorbing everything around them without even realising they are. While they play they’ve started to balance things on their heads when they walk down the hallway, and wrap colourful towels around their hair, trying to mimic the ‘pretty ladies’ they see walking down the streets.

Have they noticed the garbage in the street(at times burning), the state of some of the buildings, or the fact that pavement and sand are easily interchangeable? If they have, they haven’t mentioned it, and for that I couldn’t be more proud and impressed with their adaptability. I never would have imagined that when I became a mom I’d have kids that could, and would, be able to almost seamlessly move between countries better than most seasoned travellers. It’s pretty cool if I do say so myself!

I mentioned before that “camp-life” in Indonesia was a good stepping-stone to life in Congo and there are days where that couldn’t be more true. But some days I find myself in awe of the fact that we actually moved our family here, and have already managed to create a life for ourselves: making friends, joining activities and carrying on with our daily routine. It’s amazing to me that something that seemed like such an overwhelming step to take has really been quite manageable.

Now don’t get me wrong, I’m quite aware that I’m in still in the honeymoon stage, but it could also be argued that I’m in the culture shock stage, and this should be the hardest part.  Either way, life is carrying on in Congo, just as it did in the past places we’ve called home.

We’re learning, we’re growing and our little global citizens are taking it in stride.

If I’m being completely honest, I assumed I wouldn’t like living in Africa.

Congo. It just sounds like a crazy place to live. I came here with my expectations very low and my nose a little scrunched up, assuming the place would have nothing to offer.

The pleasant surprise that I received shouldn’t have actually surprised me at all I suppose. I was almost instantly befriended by some very lovely expat women who I already consider my new friends. It’s incredible how fast this can happen(…and what a blessing it is)! One cup of coffee, a meeting at the school gate, a trip to the park, a fitness class later and my phone was filling up with numbers. I was kindly taken to grocery stores, dance studios, restaurants, and beaches. Just like when family comes to visit, you want them to see the best parts of where you live; my new friends were ensuring I would know where to buy meat, sign my daughters up for activities and have something to do on the weekend. The expat sisterhood hasn’t failed me yet, and for that I am grateful!

My expat sisters made sure I knew where to ‘escape’ in Congo for some serenity if need be. But the truth of the matter is, that isn’t where I’ve been spending most of my time. The daily hustle consists of me walking my kids to school, where I’ve kissed my sandals goodbye and started wearing only closed toe shoes…and I still end up washing my feet several times a day from the dirt on the roads. It’s like bees to honey when I walk into the market with my blonde hair, and I’ve already had a few great adventures with my driver as he takes me to local areas to find things for the house.(If only I could snap some pictures on my long-lost phone.)

Those are the times where Dorothy would say, “We’re not in Kansas anymore Toto”.

But I’ll let you in on a little secret. My travelling has progressively become princessified(for lack of a better word). Before I was “Canadian Expat Mom”, with occasional travel writer’s perks, I knew how to rough it when I travelled. That means when I’m in the corners of Congo that make my eyes grow wide, I’m brought back to my pre-children days when I’d spend summers volunteering in schools and orphanages in India, building houses in the slums of Peru, backpacking through Central America and exploring Asia on a student’s budget.

I’ve always loved the adventure of being plunked into new cultures that are a world away from my own. When I find myself in a “holy crap I live in Congo” moment, I end up smirking to myself in disbelief. It keeps life interesting if nothing else!

Here’s to the good parts: the new friends, the adventure, the experience…and even the crazy! 

And if all else fails….I’ll just look at life through rosé coloured glasses! 😉

Cheers, from Congo!