No cause for complaints

Uber-demotion and socio-economic relegation to a position I thought I had escaped long, long ago: I'm back as a receptionist at my mom's real estate office. It's only a temporary gig until the office can find a permanent receptionist; it gives me something to do in the mornings and early afternoons until SAT classes get underway later in the day. Though the pay is only about a third of what I get for my SAT work (and this includes a secret pay increase above what the other receptionists get), there are some perks, namely that I get to eat lunch each day with my mom, and my limited computer/technology/ergonomics skills have officially crowned me the office genius.

Today I took an extended lunch, and I felt like a Jamba Juice, the nearest franchise of which is at the Downey Landing, a strip mall-type place about 12 minutes away from the office. As usual, the radio in the Prius was set to NPR, whose lunchtime fare includes PRI's The World, a show co-produced by NPR and the BBC. Though lunch is usually one of the least demanding parts of my day at the office, I found myself confronted with what must be the most disturbing story I've ever heard on NPR [and I have been exposed to more than my fair share of public radio].

A BBC correspondent was interviewing one survivor of the Democratic Republic of Congo's civil war:

...After they killed the members of my family, 19 members of the Interahamwe raped me, and then they killed 2 of my children in front of me. and then they took the baby off my back, and they tied a rope around it's neck and they forced me to pull the rope and kill my own baby. I was with my brother, and my sister-in-law. They cut off the hands of my sister in law and they tried to force my brother to rape me. My brother said, "You're my sister, I cannot rape you. If I rape you, I'll die, and if I don't rape you, they'll kill me. So I prefer that they kill me. " So the Interahamwe cut his head off.

If these men are ever caught, what would you like to happen to them?

Because I am a Christian woman, I can't meet evil with evil. But the only thing I can ask you for is to make these Interahamwe go back to Rwanda. Even if I stay alone in my own village, at least I'm with my Congolese brothers and sisters and I know that people will look after me. But please, I'm asking everyone to send the Interahamwe back to Rwanda.

As the story finished, I pulled into the parking lot, and despite the lunchtime rush, was fortunate enough to see a car pulling out of its space. I turned on my signal, and the car came toward me, which allowed a Johnny-come-lately driver access to the spot before I could get it. I felt something akin to fury welling up inside me. What kind of person steals a parking spot when another car has clearly been waiting for it and has its blinker on indicating dips?!

My righteous indignation was quickly quashed as I reflected on the Congolese woman's refusal to seek revenge—or even justice—after the attrocities perpetrated against her. If she can forgive the men who murdered her family, killed two of her children in front of her eyes, gang-raped her and forced her to strangle her own child, my reasoning went, I think I can overlook this parking faux pas. I suppose it's all about perspective.

* * * * * * * *
For the whole interview, click here.
(if the above link doesn't work, click here instead, and find "Congo report (4:00).")