Poly Poly. (Swahili, meaning "slowly")

It's been a quiet couple of days in Goma. Sunday here is like sunday anywhere else, and it's all about getting comfortable.
The day before I had met an English journalist and an English author working in LA. They are here doing research for a TV-series on humaitarian cricis.
On the sunday, the three of us, and my friend Jean-Michel set up a large lunch on the balcony of my room and spent a good few hours eating and drinking. All in all, a rather enjoyable sunday.
Yesterday (monday), my mission was to get MONUC (if I haven't mentioned them before, they are the military arm of UN's mission in DRC), to talk about the troubles in the region.
I spent a very dusty 4 hours in their base, waiting for the press information officer to actually do her job, only to be told that they had no time to talk.
Apparently, wasted days like these are quite common if one wants to talk to anyone in Congo, so I suppose I might as well get used to them.
Having spent a few hours trying to write something legible out of all the notes I have, (there seems to be enough already for a rather large book), I went to have dinner with my hotel friends.
We were joined by a fellow named Matt, a very friendly American who is in charge of Mery Corps' operations in Goma.
Matt was an intriguing person, as he looked like he literally just fell of the most American turniptruck one can possible imagine. His accent was endearingly Mid-Western, and mostly used for swearing and saying "exetera exetera".
However, Matt soon revealed himself to be a person of great personal knowledge about the various conflicts in Africa. Somehow, high-fiving his way through some of the worst coutries in the world, have left him with a unique perspective on the workings of a disaster area.
One of the things I've noticed so far here, is how much people surprise you, and almost always in a good way.