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They say that smells are a powerful trigger for memories. If this is the case, I can’t say I’m terribly excited about recalling my time here. This isn’t to say I won’t have good memories. I’m just not particularly fond of the smells that might encourage them- the acrid smoke of burning trash, overwhelming body odors that seem to linger even in the absence of bodies, the acidic smell of overripe fruit that makes it hurt to I breathe in.
Nothing, however, can compete with my walk to work.
Our office is located in the Natural Science Research Center- a hauntingly beautiful memory of colonization, consisting of several simplistic yet imposing buildings linked together by long corridors that cluster around small, open-air patios.
Despite the obvious state of decay, it is a huge source of pride for the locals and attracts visitors and high-level officials from all over the country. It truly is a beautiful place to walk to every morning…until you hit the hallway leading to our office.
Being a ‘research center’ in a remote area of a developing country necessitates a certain collage of accompanying smells that seem to be as much as part of the building as its white-washed walls.
Most of the time, the doors that line the halls are locked (the government has still not agreed to pay their workers in full, thus the workers are not working). But every once in a while a door is left ajar and you get a peek at why you have opted to stop breathing out of your nose- various animal appendages and skeletons decorate the walls, piles of stuffed furry creatures cover the shelves with jars of what is most likely their former contents scattered throughout. A jolting combination of old fur, mothballs, decaying flesh and formaldehyde mock any admirable attempts of fresh air to pass through the dark, musty hallways.
Luckily, six months of daily exposure has rendered this aromatic concoction as normal to my senses as the screams of chimps flying through my office window.
I am certain there are more pleasant scents that greet me throughout the day, but they seem to be snuffed out by the present tense.
There is, however, one final component that has proven a bit more difficult to embrace; our office is located right next to the bathroom. Under normal circumstances, this would seem like a convenient perk…except that the bathroom has no running water. To ‘flush’ one has to walk over to the neighboring office, fill up a bucket with water, walk back to the bathroom and drown out the contents.
That is the process. No one does it. I will leave the resulting odor to your imagination.
Interestingly enough, my path home is a welcomed journey back to one of my favorite adventures. I have yet to figure out the source, but there is a long stretch of my walk that is filled with the smell of orange blossoms.
I’m instantly transported to Sevilla, Spain in the Spring of 1998- Flamenco music spilling into the streets, the taste of Manzanilla wine on my tongue and the sweet scent of orange blossoms making sure I never forget.
Maybe my next trip to Spain will take me back to Lwiro, DRC in the fall of 2013.
You can donate directly to the sanctuary here to support and all the work that goes into protecting these amazing souls,
*In case you missed it, here’s a taste of the first few days in the Congo…
“Wait, you want me to fix breakfast for 54 chimps, 74 monkeys and a turtle”?
Such a wonderfully vivid collection of memories. And chimpanzees flying through your window—wow. I can’t even imagine how cool that would be!
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Thanks, my girl! Okay, to be clear, the chimps weren’t actually flying through my window, just their screams. That would have taken my lil’ adventure to a whole new level…and I most likely would not have lived to tell the tale! I’d like to think Kongo would have protected me, but there was A LOT of them to fend off. 🙂
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Oh, I see. I’m just slightly disappointed–I had visions of monkeys landing on your desk and you having to wave them off in a kind but rather exasperated way…
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yes, I see why that might disappoint. Okay, we’ll go with your version then…it was, in fact, the actual monkeys and chimps flying through my window. Makes for a much better visual experience.. 😉
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Wow. That walk home from work must have felt like heaven after a day spent sniffing poo and carcasses. Dear God. I am a rather calm person, takes a lot to get me riled up, but smells make me completely lose my shit. My blood boils to the point of me being in danger of stroking out if someone is near me while wearing patchouli, and I envision telling the person wearing it to fuck the hell off. I think being in your office might have done my head in. I am pretty sure I wouldn’t have lasted as long as you did. No, I absolutely wouldn’t have. Your reward though was that view, and your pal, Kongo. That’s worth all the decay, poo and body odours, right?! I mean, look at him!!
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Effing patchouli! My god that might be more torturous than the smell of poo and carcasses! But yes, Kongo made it all worth it. Even the wrath of my supervisor! (more to come about her) My god, it truly is miraculous that I made it out of there alive!! 🙂
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This shit you do…the way you walk the walk…never have I know someone like you.
Reading this took me back to the first time I read your stories.
I still a movie in the making, here, Brooke. Don’t dismiss the notion.
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Seriously, the shit I do! Definitely not dismissing that notion! There is a book inside me that has to be released or I will eventually explode. Only a matter of time… ;o)
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Yes. The amazing, wonderful, beautiful shit that you do. Hmmm…maybe that’s the title. The amazing, wonderful and beautiful book of all the shit Brooke does!!!!
Please get it out…we do NOT need you all over the place.
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I love it!!! A gypsy’s tale, indeed. 🙂
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Like Brandewulf, I was first captivated by your Congo adventures, but have grown to love your heart, honesty, and commitment to causes. Thanks for sharing yourself so fully Brooke.
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That means the world to hear from you, Tom. Thank you so much. I guess if I’m going to share myself with the world, I might as well do it fully. 🙂 Big hug to you, as always!
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Love that Kongo! I think we would be good friends. 🙂
Your adventure (like your heart) is amazing. I mean … I don’t know that I could do it. You had to take “roughin’ it” to a whole new level, and I like my creature comforts. But, since I cannot do what you do, I will give what I can give to help Kongo and the others. Thank you for sharing this with us, Brooke!
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Oh, you would absolutely be good friends! He clearly has a good sense about who the good ones are! 😉 I won’t lie, though; It was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. Not as much because of the roughin’ it part (although I most definitely pined for smelly lotion, chocolate and an actual toilet seat!!). It felt like a prison at times, since I was confined to a small area with a woman who was borderline evil and mentally/emotionally abusive. All to say, it changed me on many levels, both good and bad. But Kongo and the others, they definitely made it all worthwhile… Big hug to you, Tom!
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I gave. It’s a good cause! ❤️
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Yay!! Thank you so much! They need it so badly. It’s a very small organization that doesn’t have the reach and exposure that others have. Kongo thanks you with that huge heart of his!
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Brooke, this is so Good! I think the sense of smell is something under used in creative writing and it is such a powerful sense. This is a truly inventive piece. These might be my favorite posts of yours; a book of your adventures would be amazing!
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Thank you, my girl! It’s definitely a sense I struggle to express most. But there was no avoiding it where I was! The smells were such an intricate part of my every day.
That book, that effing book! It’s coming, I can feel it starting to squirm inside, so I guess it’s time. 🙂 Big hug to you, Susan!!
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