Steve's fingers lingered over the well-worn edges of his diary, a steadfast companion on his recent journeys. He reviewed entries from the past few days, preparing to document yesterday's events.
So far, he had only been able to write the date and location:
'June 22nd, 2026, Village of Monkototo, Republic of Congo'
In the tranquil morning air of Monkototo, Steve settled into his routine of reflection and documentation. The village, with its timeless essence and the dense Congo Forest enveloping it, provided a backdrop vastly different from the world he was accustomed to.
He gazed at the diary's pages, each a canvas for his thoughts and experiences. The quiet bustle of village life, a symphony of unfamiliar yet enchanting sounds, filled the air around him.
Steve couldn´t help but find comfort in this simplicity, starkly contrasting the chaos of his usual travels.
Despite his linguistic limitations, Steve had managed to navigate the basics in Congo, thanks to his rudimentary French. Though limited, the simplicity of these interactions opened a small window into the lives of the Monkototo villagers. He admired their resilience and harmony with nature, aspects of life he seldom encountered in his urban existence.
As he turned the pages of his diary, memories of the journey to Monkototo replayed in his mind. The smoothness of their travel had been a welcome surprise. Typically, his work led him through a labyrinth of challenges and uncertainties, but fate had been kind this time.
His gaze drifted to the glassless window, a portal to the most precious part of his world – his family. Maria and Lisa, his anchors, had joined him on this journey, a decision born out of necessity rather than leisure.
Having endured long periods of solitude due to his frequent travels, Maria had reached her limit. The birth of Lisa had only intensified the challenges of his absences. The decision to bring them along was not easy, considering the harsh realities of the African jungle, far removed from the amenities and safety of their usual environment.
Yet, despite the odds, Maria had adapted with remarkable resilience, finding joy in the experience. Their presence here, in Monkototo, was a testament to their commitment to stay united as a family, even in the most challenging circumstances.
Steve's pen hovered over the diary, ready to encapsulate the myriad of emotions and experiences into words. This journey was more than just another work trip; it was a chapter in their family's story, a testament to their strength and unity in adversity.
With a deep breath, he began to write, chronicling not just the events of the past days but also capturing the essence of their family's journey in the heart of the Congo.
Monkototo presented a stark contrast to their expectations. While it boasted more development than some remote villages in the forest area, it still lacked many of the basic amenities that Western communities were acquainted with.
Their dwelling was simple but sturdy. It was constructed from bricks coated with a concrete or plaster-like material. Like the rest of the village, it was painted in a local shade of yellow, giving it a uniform appearance with other stone structures in the area. The bare windows were framed in steel, and the wooden door seemed more symbolic than secure.
There was a small bathroom inside the house, but it was only meant to freshen up in the morning; showering and bathroom breaks should occur in the shared area just outside the home.
The villages, probably a combination of no more than 300 houses, had the bare minimum amenities that consisted of a lone farmers market, a small school, a community center, and a minor military outpost on the outskirts, including one runway.
The outpost and the runway were probably the only reason this village was one step ahead of the others in the region.
Despite the limited resources, the people of Monkototo welcomed Steve's family with exceptional warmth, their hospitality significantly mitigating the inconveniences of rural life.
Steve read the last entry out loud, "At least Maria feels safe here".
Steve finally returned to the empty page, now ready to start writing. He tipped the pen on the back of his hand to ensure the ink was still wet and started writing.
"Early morning greeted us with the relentless sun again. Last night was another sleepless ordeal, with Lisa restless in my arms. This is our second night battling the unfamiliar heat and humidity.
I'm concerned about how quickly Lisa, and even Maria and I, can adapt to this new climate. A few fans might relieve us for a better night's sleep. If these sleepless nights persist, I worry about their toll on my work. I'm considering discussing a night duty rotation with Maria, but I want to give her time to adjust first.
Despite the slow start, the day she was turned out to be quite productive.
My noon meeting with the village head was an experience in itself. His attempts at English were earnest yet hard to follow, making him seem like a character straight out of a storybook. However, his genuine nature shone through. I requested fans or an air conditioner, understanding the electricity constraints here. The village's power is limited, sourced from a small river and generators at the nearby military camp. I'm contemplating a financial contribution to improve the village's infrastructure, but we must tread carefully to avoid drawing undue attention to our resources.
Later, I met Kasongo, who will be my primary contact for the coming weeks. Fluent in English and impressively efficient, he's already proving to be a valuable team member. Thanks to his efforts, we reviewed the plans for tomorrow's expedition, which are well-organized.
Kasongo informed me about the tribe we'll be meeting. Their language is a unique dialect of Lingala, not commonly spoken. Fortunately, we'll have an interpreter, an elderly lady familiar with their tongue. This should significantly enhance our chances of a successful interaction.
Once my meeting with Kasongo had finished, it was already dinner time. Dinner was a pleasant surprise again, with its delicious, meat-free dishes. The village's isolation might be the secret to their unique flavors. This might be an excellent opportunity for Maria to get occupied for the upcoming days; I know she would enjoy it.
Just before we went to bed, I finally managed to get a hold of Dunn. His health is declining, and he's scheduled for a cardioversion tomorrow. I'm hoping for his speedy recovery. I don't know if I can do this without him. Yet, he's as eager, and he insisted on joining us once he gets the green light to travel."
** Knock, Knock **
The knock interrupted Steve as he was just about to finish the last paragraph of his entry. Closing his diary, he stood up, a blend of anticipation and nervousness surging within;
It was time.
Opening the door, he was met with a familiar face; Kasongo stood outside, eager to kick start this adventure.
"Looking sharp today, Kasongo," Steve remarked with a friendly smile. Having only met Kasongo the day before, Steve was still figuring out how to interact with him.
Kasongo returned the smile. "You too, Mzungu," he replied. Although 'Mzungu' wasn't commonly used in Congo, Kasongo, with his extensive travel across Africa, had picked up various terms to address the diverse people he guided on expeditions.
Steve then turned to Maria and Lisa, kissing them both, promising them to be back by nightfall.
He then exited the building and climbed up the back of the waiting pick-up truck; he felt a surge of excitement. The driver, a man in his middle years, started the engine, and they set off towards the dense Congolese forest.
Steve's grin widened in anticipation; the adventure he had been waiting for was about to begin.