The last day in a Congolese city is so strange.
It's impolite to leave without saying good-bye, so in addition to the two interviews I needed to do this morning (and the one I decided I don't really need), I had to do the rounds with a few friends. It was sweet. Anne-Marie, my wonderful, wonderful friend here, gave me an outfit she'd had made for me. It's in the pattern that the women at her church use when they're in a parade or something like that - so I match them. She had me over to her home to meet her kids, and prayed the sweetest prayer for me (and for all of you). I left almost in tears.
Then I went to say good-bye to my friend Alain, who wants to buy me a carving as a souviner by which to remember his family. I left that meeting sadly, too, then nearly got in trouble with immigration for taking pictures of the Bush administration's anti-HIV/AIDS campaign posters here. Turns out that the technique of just ignoring the authorities works pretty well here. They have no enforcement capacity, and it's not like I'd done anything wrong to begin with. I just jumped in a taxi and left.
Tonight Uncle Rene and his wife come by the house to say good-bye. I leave for Goma in the morning. It will be interesting to see whether the city is as tense as it was in June, or whether things have gotten worse or better. A demain, as we say here. See you tomorrow.