brazzaville: sweat, history, and that river smell
okay, let’s talk about brazzaville. i’m sitting here in a café that’s definitely not air-conditioned enough, sipping something they swear is coffee, and trying not to stick to the plastic chair. i just checked and it’s 24°c with 88% humidity right now, hope you like that kind of thing. honestly, the weather here feels like wearing a wet sweater you can’t take off. but hey, that’s the congo river basin for you.
the city’s got this weird mix of colonial leftovers and post-war patched-up buildings. saint anne’s basilica looks like it’s made of rust-colored honeycombs, and the nabemba tower sticks out like a middle finger to the past. someone told me that during the civil wars in the 90s, whole neighborhoods got wiped out. you can still see the scars if you look past the fresh paint.
if you get bored, kinshasa is just a short drive away-well, if you count crossing the world’s most chaotic river as a short drive. it’s wild that two capital cities stare at each other across the water like divorced neighbors. pointe-noire’s down south too, but that train ride’s allegedly longer than a taylor swift concert.
the food? lot of manioc. like, a lot. saka-saka’s basically green goop made from cassava leaves, and fufu’s the kind of dough that glues your intestines together. don’t get me wrong, it’s good, but after three days you’ll dream of a salad.
someone told me the unesco music thing is real-nights here pulse with congolese rumba until the humidity smothers the sound. but during the day? it’s all motorbikes and vendors yelling over potholes. the markets in poto-poto are overwhelming in that way where you either buy everything or nothing.
also, pro tip: don’t mention politics. the guy at the bar last night nearly spat out his beer when i asked about sassou nguesso. turns out 30 years in power is a sensitive topic.
it’s not all rough edges, though. there’s something about the way the light slants through the palm trees by the river that makes you forget the heat. or maybe that’s just dehydration. either way, brazzaville’s got a grip on you-even if it’s mostly because you’re too sweaty to leave.
You might also be interested in:
- https://topiclo.com/post/calgary-sun-wind-and-a-whole-lotta-prairie
- https://topiclo.com/post/uffa-ufa-frozen-rivers-islamic-heartbeats-and-whatever-this-wind-is-called
- https://topiclo.com/post/wandering-shiraz-with-a-halfdead-phone-battery-and-zero-regrets
- https://topiclo.com/post/amritsar-golden-temples-border-ceremonies-and-a-whole-lot-of-butter
- https://topiclo.com/post/guwahati-messed-up-by-monsoon-my-jumbled-take