Congo’s children drink spirits, use drugs and have sex. They try to cope with the devastation that surrounds them. Broken aircraft are appropriated for use as homes. They are pillaged of their parts. The aircraft have stalled and have become permanent dwellings; the temporary has become permanent. Built to fly, these aircraft have become trapped in creeping foliage. But play also offers sweet redemption. In the thrill of the moment, hopping, twisting and upside down, these children are undeniably joyful. The happiness is precious. In a vast country dismantled like a toy, there are always unexpected ways to play and to forget, and for a moment to feel that in the belly of a great machine one might be soaring far above this world.