Where All the Insufferable

A piece of siding got separated from the side of the house.  Where else would siding go but on the side of the house? Our former neighbor who is a contractor had suggested he’d come and fix it.  But it’s been a few days and the Mrs. is worried that all the rain is ruining the wood beneath.  Ruining the house itself.  Gazing out at the back yard today talking away on the phone, I was pleasantly surprised to see Josh, one the members of my neighbor’s crew, walking along downstairs with a large ladder.  Later I went out to offer them coffee they confirmed that the wood underneath hadn’t yet been damaged. 

Regular readers know that I’ve been reading everything I can get my hands on about the Congo, the Republic of or the Democratic Republic of.  I’m on to Adam Hochschild’s “King Leopold’s Ghost,” the first part of which traces his frustrated royal youth, his loveless marriage, and his unerring desire for an empire of his very own.  The broad outlines of the in unfortunate history I’d traced in other works, and while some of the brazen logic that buttressed these land grabs is all but incomprehensible today, the construction of the justifications for one or another such effort are all quite familiar.

Around 10:30AM I hopped on a scheduled call.  My sister’s old friend has worked in Senegal and other sub-Saharan countries for much of the last two decades.  She had a friend she wanted to connect we with who hailed from the Democratic Republic of the Congo.  A wonderful young woman, with an exceptional tale of asylum and subsequent success.  She hailed form Bukavu, Eastern DR Congo on Lake Kivu, across the water from Rwanda, where all the insufferable warfare, genocide, revenge, and retreat spilled out that very area when she was young. 

She was visiting the United States when an assault in her home town convinced that her life was in danger at home.  Fortunately she was able to apply for a secure asylum in the United States, during a civil time, somewhere in Obama’s term.  One can only imagine how wretched it might have been for her to have needed anything like official tolerance and empathy, during he toxicity of the current administration . . . may it end swiftly.  A friend from Israel wrote last night, still shell-shocked that Bibi had somehow won a third election.  I asked him to wish us better luck, please, in our upcoming affair. 

Tuesday 03/03/20