Interview with Douglas Cardwell
- mary sanichas
- Sep 14
- 10 min read
Updated: 4 days ago
Mary:
Can you find photos of Bolenge where you grew up, the Congo River, your family or other people in Bolenge? Yourself as a boy! Congo in those days…
Doug:
I'm not sure I have access to much in the way of photos, other than some passport photos.
Mary:
Yes I'd love passport photos, they are so poignant in a way. Here is mine at 12.
The first time I met you, you told me about returning to Bolenge where you grew up and the feeling you had when you saw the Congo River again. Can you describe this?
Doug:
I went back to Bolenge with my parents 33 years after leaving. It was a real homecoming, seeing our old house and my old haunts. I was delighted that some of my Lonkundo came back.
One afternoon, as the sun was setting, I looked from the soccer field, where I had played almost every day, over the two-mile expanse of the Congo River and saw exactly what I had seen every day growing up—beautiful colors reflecting on the river. Suddenly shivers went down my back—a sensation I've never had before or since—and my mind filled with the thought that I was home.
Mary:
Doug this is amazing, I LOVE your experience of returning home!
I found a big 1961 Congo map with the pre-Mobutu names of cities. Here is a detail of where I think Bolenge is but I don't see it. Where is it?
Doug:
Bolenge is ten kilometers south of Mbandaka (Cocquilhatville on the older map). The scale is such that most villages are left off. Just follow the equator to the east bank of the river, and that's Bolenge.
Mary:
Can you tell me more about growing up on the Congo River. Encounters with wild animals, snakes, malaria? Did you canoe around in the Congo River? Crocodiles?Â
Doug:
Growing up in Congo was wonderful. While I was home-schooled I spent mornings doing my schoolwork and then after lunch I went off to meet my Congolese buddies to hang out with them until suppertime (sunset was the signal to get home.) My parents never worried about me because they knew that all the Congolese on the station would look out for me. I loved the freedom. We went fishing, canoed along the bank of the river, played soccer and other games, walked to Mbandaka (six miles each way), walked into the jungle and generally hung out. Â
We saw lots of birds and the occasional monkey, but the only wildlife we really watched out for was snakes. We learned to watch where we were stepping and in the branches of any bushes we were brushing against, because those were the prime places to find snakes. Any bite would be deadly (you would not live to make it to the hospital, even if they had the right anti-venom).Â
We only occasionally had close calls: the closest was one night as we were getting the youngest siblings ready for bed, we tried to call the dog out from under the bed and she wouldn't come. We looked and saw what we thought was feces until it moved. It turned out to be a mamba and, thanks to the dog, tragedy was averted.
The other snake adventures involved pythons that were after our rabbits or chickens. I still have the 23-foot-long skin of one of them. It had eaten three of our chickens, but then we ate him.
While canoeing in a much smaller river we saw the occasional crocodile or hippo. Only the hippos will actually attack a canoe, and I had quite a fright one day when one burst to the surface about 15 feet away and opened wide those huge jaws. We moved away and were lucky he didn't chase us.
Mosquitos were ubiquitous and voracious, so nobody escaped bites. I was lucky—I was the only one in my family to never come down with malaria.
Mary:
How did you feel about suddenly being sent to school with Belgians at 9? Were there any other English-speaking kids in the school? Were the Belgians severe academically and punitive?
Doug, I'm asking because I WAILED when my father left me with the nuns in French school for 1st grade. Also I remember feeling so grateful I didn't have to board there like many of the kids. Seemed like the worst nightmare possible to be held prisoner full time in such austere and terrifying conditions.Â
Recently (over 50 years later!) I discovered that there was a Belgian school in Kinshasa as well. I almost had a heart attack thinking that my parents could have sent my sister and me there instead of to TASOK—where we were so happy. Even 50 years later, it felt like I'd dodged a bullet!
Doug:
As I think I have mentioned before, my life was so full of changes that I learned to accept them. I was three when we left Dad's pastorate in Tupelo, Mississippi and went to Hartford, then Montreal, then New York, then our trek to Congo. Three years in Congo with my Mother supervising me under the Calvert system, back to MS for fourth grade, back to Congo for two(?) more years of Calvert, then Belgian school for sixth grade, then to another station upriver to live with a family in which there was a boy my age and a mother who taught us and another family's kids, again with Calvert, then back home for more Calvert, then back to Mississippi for ninth grade, then to Belgium for six weeks in a local school where I was the lone American, then back to Congo and Central School, which boarded missionary kids from fifth grade through high school, then back to college in the US, which actually lasted four years—a first. Whew!
Belgian school was my introduction to French and to Catholicism. No one spoke English, so I had to pick it up—it took several weeks for me to get comfortable with it, but I had the satisfaction of being the best in the class in dictée before the end. The priest who taught us took an interest me and was very helpful. He allowed me to sit through catechism class, which taught me a lot. He was demanding academically but fairly lenient in discipline. The nun who taught my younger sister was the one who whacked kids with a ruler. Â
I made several friends from my class and we got along very well, playing soccer and other games and hanging out.
I don't remember being very homesick when I was sent upriver to live with another family. Again I was learning to accept life as it came. Then again, I wasn't in first grade like you were; I'm sure that made a difference.
Mary:
Clarification please:Â you said you were plunged into Belgian school and it only took you several weeks to "get comfortable" with it. How could you possibly be comfortable without knowing how to speak French? Do you remember responding to gestures at first?
I remember my first experience with French: kids were repeating "Lance la balle… Lance la balle!" (throw the ball) so these were probably my first words. Aside from "au secours!" which our parents taught us to yell if someone was trying to kidnap us. That and "où sont les toilettes ?" if we needed to go to the bathroom.
To expand: for people who haven't experienced it, a "Dictée" is dictation. Out of the blue, the "Maître" or "Maîtresse" (master or mistress) would suddenly announce the piercing word "Dictée" in a way designed to strike terror into your heart. Kids would scramble into position with "plume" in hand, ready to dip into the ink well as needed. Ink blotter in position as well, because ink stains were not tolerated. You never knew when the Dictée was coming. It was a test of your ability to write down correctly what was being said. Aside from a test of writing and grammar skills, it was a test of performance under pressure, knowing every error would be circled in red and that you would be scored—and humiliated in front of the class if you had the lowest score.
So when Doug says he was best in the class at Dictée by the end of the year, that is a real accomplishment.Â
Doug, I'm glad you landed on a compassionate priest. In France, the revolt against an archaic, authoritarian education system started in May 1968, with reforms ensuing. In 2002 a French study concluded that shaming and insults actually hindered academic progress. However in my case FEAR of the aforementioned actually did wonders for my academic progress, and I am very grateful for that.Â
Doug:
Mary, I don't recall being able to study the Dictées ahead of time. I notice the ones in your textbook didn't use the passé composé, so agreements weren't being emphasized. I guess that was difference in grade levels. I do remember that some of them were from the fables, which gave us lots of practice in the passé défini.
I also had Dutch, to honor the Flemish part of the Belgian population.
Mary:
That's pretty funny they had you studying Dutch in the Congo, but I guess it would have been useful to the Belgians returning home.
What was Central School? Were there other missionary kids there? Was it fun? Was it a hostel situation as with TASOK (The American School of Kinshasa)?
Doug:
Central School was on a Presbyterian mission station and had dorms for the boys and girls and a central dining room for the 50 of us missionary kids. Last I heard the building is still there if you ever go to Lubondai. There were five in my graduating class. We were all good friends and have gotten together a number of times over the years, including a 50th reunion in France.
Mary:
You left in 1957 when it was still the Belgian Congo. It's amazing to think you were a teenager in equatorial Africa when kids in the States were watching "Leave It to Beaver" and listening to Elvis Presley. How much of that reached you by the time you were in high school at Central and I assume had electricity?Â
Doug:
The only radios were shortwave and belonged to the teachers, so we heard very little in the way of popular music. The only title that sticks in my head is "Hound Dog." At Lubondai there was electricity from a nearby dam until 11 pm, though our lights-out was 9:30. The generator only produced enough for lights, so the refrigerators worked on kerosene. The laundry was done by hand.
Mary:
We were in the Congo, though granted in Kinshasa, during another cultural revolution—the mid-sixties. When my father was on a work trip back to the States, he went to a record store and asked what the kids were listening to. Then he brought us back the Rolling Stones (Satisfaction), the Royal Guardsmen (Snoopy and the Red Baron) and the Mamas and the Papas (Monday, Monday), plus Edith Piaf (Je ne regrette rien!) for my sister. More to his taste, he also brought back the sound tracks for Don Quixote, the Pink Panther and Born Free.
How did you become involved with Education Congo?
Doug:
I knew Ben Hobgood in Congo and stayed in touch with him after returning to the States. I think it was in 2005 that he approached me about joining Education Congo, and I accepted. He was recruiting me to succeed him as executive director, and I soon began helping him with the bookkeeping. When he died suddenly, I had to learn all that he had not yet taught me, or invent it.
Mary:
How long have you lived in North Carolina?
Doug:
I have lived in Winston-Salem since 1972—the first time I have spent more than four straight years anywhere.
Mary:
How did your past educational experiences shape you as a French professor?
Doug:
In a sense, I learned something from every teacher I had. Since I had several European teachers as well as American, I saw a good variety of techniques and philosophies, and I knew what I did and didn't like. Those examples helped me determine, according to the material, when to lecture (only when necessary), when to ask questions (as much as possible), when to go to the board (only when necessary), when to have the class repeat in unison and when individually. As a child, I used to sit in the back of the class and try to be the last to answer any questions, which taught to watch out for students like me and call on them.
Mary:
But, Doug, now my main question is: How did your family decide to start two named funds, and how often do you contribute to it? I'm asking in case others may want to follow the same strategy.
Doug:
When Ben started soliciting for them, I really liked the idea of commemorating and continuing the work my parents had done, so I asked my siblings to join me in that project. We had many discussions about designations and how best to honor both parents, which we felt necessary because both were full-time missionaries. We decided that the only way to do them both justice was to establish one for each, for students in different fields. We built them up as quickly as we could to the $25,000 minimum and then continue to give every year to make them ever bigger and thus help more students at a time.
Mary:
Thank you Doug. This has been a joy and is a beautiful contribution to the Education Congo website. Also thank you for writing about your parents (Sue Cardwell and Walter Cardwell).
If you would like to support university scholarships for Congolese students, consider donating to one of Doug's family's named funds:
Sue Cardwell Fund—designated for women students from Bolenge Province or Equateur Province who are preparing for careers in teaching.
Walter Cardwell Fund—designated for theology students from Bolenge Province or Equateur Province.
To donate to a named fund, click the donate button above, choose "Named funds" to go to our secure donation site, then scroll to choose your preferred named fund.
To donate by check, write the name of the fund on the memo line of the check and mail to Education Congo, PO Box 29, Lamar, CO 81052 USA.
If you are taking distributions from your IRA, you might consider making a direct donation from your account to Education Congo. The distribution amount that is paid directly to Education Congo would not be taxable to you and could save you some income tax dollars. Please talk to your financial and/or tax advisors on how to best make this kind of donation. (If you go this route, be sure to notify us with details.)