Attack of the Killer Mosquitoes

So ya, the dry season is upon us and it's a lot cooler but there is an alarming number of mosquitoes around. It's gotten to a point where I will shoo them off my door before I walk into my apartment.

Sometimes, I will be talking to someone and absolutely cannot concentrate on what he/she is saying because a mozzie or two are buzzing around them and frolicking in their hair or wig.

The very worst thing about mozzies (after the fact that they carry deadly Malaria) is that they make this annoying buzzing sound. For some reason, at night they are particularly interested in the ear area and will come fly around the ear canal buzzing and struttin'. Taunting you with their buzz buzz sound while you flail your arms spastically trying to shoo them away.

Two nights ago, I had two, TWO mosquitoes in my room. They decided to organize a little dance around my head at 11:00PM. Annoyed, I first went to get my can of RAID. Unfortunately, it was empty. Try as I might, the little fizzle of spray did little to discourage them. Fortunately, I had Off Deep Woods insecticide spray. I ran to the medicine cabinet, reached for the spray, pinched my nose shut, closed my eyes and proceeded to spray my face vigorously.


Source: www.homedepot.com


Then I went back to sleep. In two seconds flat, the f*&ckers were at it again. I proceeded to spray myself three more times (at that point, I was choking on the fumes) but it just seemed to attract them more. What good is an insecticide which, when applied liberally three times in a row, does absolutely nothing?

My next trick was to make myself tremble every minute as so, so that the mosquitoes would fly away. First I'd start with my legs, then my arms, and finally my head. I probably looked like I was having a seizure but it was better than having a malaria-infected proboscis penetrate my skin.

Tired of all the effort, I took my pillow under my arm and went to sleep in the guest room. The next day, a friend bought me the largest can of insecticide he could find: Killit.

Cost: Priceless (actually it was more like $2).


Source: www.miswa.com/homecare.html

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Ekondas (latin name Paedirus) are little red and black striped insects which are found more commonly in Central Africa. This seems to be mating season and they come out of the ground in swarms. When they release their juice, the liquid will burn human flesh like a fire would.


Source: www.koleopterologie.de

I have heard an Ekonda landing on someone's legs two weeks ago and he casually brushed it away toward his...sensitive regions. Last week, he was unable to sit on a chair comfortably and would place one half of his left butt cheek on the chair. Though it made me laugh for a long time, other males winced in compassion.

The best part of Ekondas is that a grown man will shriek like a little girl if they so much as walk in their direction.

EEEEiiiihh!

Everything in life is cyclical

I've been here for a little over a year and my memory is constantly jogged by cyclical events that seemed so strange a year ago but now seem perfectly mundane and sane.

I arrived in mid-March 2005 and, between trying to sort out my living situation in overpriced Kinshasa and settling in at work, the three first months melted together to mid-June 2005--a date when the elections were first set to take place.

At the time, we were listening obsessively to the radio and scoping out rumors and ruminations of troubles that might arise in the country. It created a heavy atmosphere of paranoia and unease... waiting... waiting with anticipation for the date of the 30th of June. The country had never held a proper election since 1960 so the buzz and the energy were palpable.

Kabila had warned the population early: there would be no election this year due to the logisitical challenge of getting the whole country registered in the span of a few months. Instead, the election would take place on the 30th of June 2006.

Today, almost a year later, formidable advances have been made: a large majority of people of voting age now detain a voter's registration card. This has been a particularly amazing feat when you consider that there are no roads in the majority of the country. Both helicopters and computers (with cameras, fingerprint scanners and lamination machines) had to be brought into the numerous large villages (those living in extremely hard-to-reach villages made the 2 or 3 days walk to get registered). And those few literate people were trained in how to use the equipment. A large majority of those villages had not seen helicopters or computers ever. A large majority of that population had never had any contact with the central level government. MONUC and the CEI (Comité Electorale Indépendente) deployed all their efforts to get people registered.

The elections have been pushed back again to July 2006 and, in a climate of distrust of the government and presidents for life, it's no wonder people are anxious to put in their votes.

These are some of my thoughts from last year. Many of them are still relevant today:

Post from June 2005
Posts from July 2005

May 26th 2005-Security Issues
June 8th 2005-Radios
June 8th 2005-The Smell of Money
June 9th 2005-Severe Internet Troubles
June 10th 2005-The Theory of Relativity
June 13th 2005-What's in your Wallet?
June 23rd 2005-Appeasing the Population
June 25th 2005-Odds and Ends
June 27th 2005-Congolese line up for voter registration
June 29th 2005-All's well
June 29th 2005-Girl vs. Generator
July 3rd 2005-Anticlimactic...
July 18th 2005-The Color of Democracy

Let the paranoia begin...again

Now that the elections are nearing, we are all getting a bit testy. The security guy at the office sent me a text message at 6:45 in the morning (sheesh!) about possible marches from the UDPS party around my house.

This morning I have received another email message from him in my outlook and two more from a friend about where the marches would progress. This is exactly like it was last year, at the same time when the elections where supposed to take place.

Also, the weirdest thing happened to me when I was driving to the office. I saw....brace yourselves...4, FOUR! traffic signs at the last round-about: a STOP sign, a MERGE sign, and two others which I was too stunned to really observe.

Poliovirus is back

Congo was about to receive, in 2006, a certificate announcing to complete eradication of the Polio Virus. However, according to a Ministry of Health Report in May 2006, one case of poliovirus, type 1 was isolated in a laboratory in the Boma-Bungu health zone, in the province of Bas-Congo that shares a large border with Angola.

What's frustrating is that it was so close to disappearing: during two years (2003, 2005), the DRC had organized National Vaccination Days with vaccination coverage reaching 105% and 99%* each.

But it's going to be near impossible to make poliovirus disappear in a context where some communities are so isolated that medical staff cannot reach them with cold vaccines, syringes and sensitization.


*This seemingly too high coverage is due to several factors: (1) the number of children existing in the health zone is underestimated, and (2) other children may come to this health zone from neighboring health zones-->thus more children than planned are actually vaccinated

Spring is here! Spring is here!

Just kidding, made you look. There is actually no spring, summer, fall and winter in the Congo. There are only two seasons, the dry season and the rainy season.

We have officially entered the dry season. The dry season has finally descended and the air has cooled down considerably. It feels much like the emerging spring in Washington DC. I am getting this weird mixed feeling of ecstasy--an ingrained feeling in my body is telling me to be happy, happy, happy because it feels like spring and the buds are opening, the birds are chirping and babies bunnies are being born.

What's strange is that the weather's been almost consistently warm and sunny here so I really shouldn't be feeling this way.

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I was talking to a neighbor about our rat situation: we have HUGE rats in our courtyard. They are about as large as her 6-months old cat. The f%$#ing things live in our metal drum that holds about 30 apartments' worth of trash. In the evening when we get home and flash our lights to find a parking spot, a rat or two will scurry back to the open pipes or the drum. Our conversation proceeded as follows:

Me: "We need two or three cats in our back parking to get rid of our rats"
Her: "Hey man, we need a Puma! Those rats are huge!"

That actually seemed like a plausible solution. I've been here too long.

Burn-outs, burn-outs everywhere

It seems like burn-outs are the new black in this week's new Development world!

Poor Sahara has been working hard to open a new office in Lubumbashi. She is *wisely* considering turning to alcohol to solve her stress problems.

Pitiful Beaver has been globe-trotting as an auditor and has no place to call her own. Thankfully, her boss gave her some time off so she can resume posting on her blog.

You givin' me drivin' lessons?!?

This morning, I was quietly driving to work when a truck full of people swerves from the opposite side and starts driving like a wild man on my lane, on my side of the road. In the opposite direction!

Wait, there's more...Then the driver proceeds to flash me THREE times to tell me to get out of the way. I got angry because:

(1) You're in my lane buddy!
(2) You're driving in the wrong direction!
(3) Where the hell do you want me to go?? There is no sidewalk, there is no space!

Now I know my car is crap (it has only 55,000 kilometers or about 34,175 miles), drives like it's about 100 years old, it rattles and shakes, it threatens to disintegrate when rolling over any kind of pothole or slight bump. But yours does not have any headlights, has holes for windows, doors held tight but large rubber bands and sports eight different colors (mud-brown, original white, blood-splatter red, pollution-black etc). So show me some respect!

I decided to play chicken with this bus, waiting to see who would get out of the way first. I am sorry to report that I freaked out first, swerved alarmingly into the dust and let him pass.

This happens about three times a week. But until now, it's never happened this early in the morning. Thank god I drank tea to steady my nerves.

Suzuki Samurai: one of the many sh**ty cars I drive to work every morning. Source: www.definitivecaribbean.com

Un Point. Un Trait-

Un point, un trait.

French idiom.
Literally translated as One period, one dash.
Meaning That's it, period.

Although I believe this is initially a french expression, I have heard it in Congo twice in the last two weeks. It is usually used by people trying to make the point that the decision is undebatable. That's it, period. The last person using it was getting excited, with saliva shooting out of his mouth while gesticulating energetically in the direction of a car. I'm not sure what he was saying but I sure wouldn't like to be the one arguing with him. Un point, un trait.

Sad News

I have decided that it's time for me to leave to Congo for good and return to the United States.

Though there were some pretty pressing reasons to do this, today they seem pretty inconsequential after all. Despite all my bitching, my complaints, my witty sarcasm, and my doubts during this time in the Congo, the thought of leaving fills me with dread. To use a vastly overused and abused cliché: I have a heavy lump in the bottom of my throat.

I try to smile but I know I have that funny crooked smile that looks more like a frown even if the corners of my lips are going up.

I am pretty scared of what's waiting for me there (or rather, what's not waiting for me). Will my friends still be alive? Will I be able to live on a shit wage? Can I find a job in less than two months? Where am I going to stay? How am I going to grease the wheel to get better service? Is anyone going to love me? Is my shipment going to make it back OK?



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Thanks editor10, Your parents, Lyon apartment for Posting on my GuestMap! You guys are AWESOME! Sigh.

1001 uses for mosquito-nets

My friend Kate has written a beautiful post The Art of the Mosquito Net on Mosquito-nets. She is quite the expert on them:

A poorly-hung net is really an embarrassment. Perhaps it is the wrong size. It is an awkward and gawky teenager, not quite grown into elongated limbs, slouching to hide what does not seem to fit. The net is stretched at the corners from which it is hung, one end hangs low and tucks under, with the propriety of a nun’s habit; the opposite end stops abruptly, as promiscuous as a mini-skirt on a streetwalker inviting any visitor of the night.

During an evening of drinks, ciggies and sitting on the porch, we discussed and exchanged the many uses of a mosquito-net was have seen in the field:

1. As prevention against mosquito bites
2. For fishing (drag the net in the water and collect your little Ndakala)
3. To make a beautiful veil to complete a wedding dress
4. Use the conical ones on termite mounds, wait for the termites to leave the nest and trap them
5. As a form of birth control (don't ask me how, the logistics of this are mind-boggling)

And the list goes on!

Popular demand

Due to popular demand, I am reporting today that I do not have that weird worm-like feeling in my throat. Was it the Vermox? Was it the stress? Who knows, but thank god it's disappeared.

I apologize for anyone who may have taken me up on the challenge (I dare you to type the word "ascaris" in the Google Images search engine) although if you haven't done so and you are the type that likes horror movies...be my guest!

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Thanks Elizabeth Now is in Tajikistan (what are you doing there?), Manuel Delgado, and Stephanie (you're coming during the heat of elections-good timing :) for posting on my GuestMap!!

Sauce Martin and Bitter Cucumber

Martin and Steven have been buddies for the better part of 9 years. They love going to Al Dar, a local Lebanese joint in the middle of the city. The food is pretty damn good, and the waiters are jovial. If you order a burger, they bring little jars of mayo, ketchup and pili-pili to the table. If you order a salad, they bring little jars of mayo, ketchup and pili-pili. Hell, even if you are just there to order plain water, they'll bring you little jars of mayo, ketchup and pili-pili.

Over the years of late nights discussing religion, girls and football, Martin has perfected, what he likes to call "Sauce Martin". This consists of taking even-sized wads of mayo, ketchup and pili-pili, mixing them briskly, and scooping up the resulting mixture with pitas. This is a strange, yet fascinating process, yielding a tasty product. The mayo+ketchup deal is a left-over from the Belgian period, the pili-pili is what makes it interesting.

That same night Steven, feeling particularly healthy, was eating a greek salad. The salad tasted a little off and he decided to taste each vegetable in turn to determine which was the offending food. The mear taste of a cucumber was enough evidence to let Steven know the result of that test.

I honestly haven't laughed this hard in 6-7 months.

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Thanks George (formerly Rwanda, now Seattle), Marie (as mom would say I’m hurting you for your own good), and Vernicious Knids (your picture of Willy Wonka and the little munchkin thingies is disconcerting)--let's see, that would be 8 x 3 = 24 hours of happiness.

A Rather Disgusting Feeling

For the past two weeks, I've been feeling like something is stuck in my throat. It causes me to swallow compulsively and drink a lot of water to get rid of the unpleasant sensation.

Then, a colleague mentioned that his neighbor threw up a large worm a few days ago. The worm was carefully placed in a jar--to show the doctor. Needless to say, I drove to the pharmacy very fast to get some worm medicine.

Oddly enough, it's almost one year ago that I first tried Wormox:
Wormox-the Best Medecine in the World


www.cat.cc.md.us/courses/bio141/labmanua/lab22/ascaris.html
(I dare you to type the word "ascaris" in the Google Images search engine)

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By the Way, thanks so much Erick, TeaandZen, and Dallas for posting on my GuestMap! If you would like to make your presence known, thanks for clicking the link to your right. It takes about 5.7 seconds to pin yourself on the map and makes my day for 8 hours.

Are you Burned-out?

What is burnout?
When your body and mind are relentlessly strained, you can develop emotional and physical fatigue. Burnout is a physical, mental, and emotional response to constant levels of high stress. Burnout produces feelings of hopelessness, powerlessness, cynicism, resentment and failure—as well as stagnation and reduced productivity. These stress reactions can result in levels of depression or unhappiness that eventually threaten your job, your relationships and your health.

Burnout is associated with situations in which a person feels:
-overworked
-underappreciated
-confused about expectations and priorities
-concerned about job security
-overcommitted with responsibilities
-resentful about duties that are not commensurate with pay

Burnout can occur when you feel you are unable to meet constant demands, and you become increasingly overwhelmed and depleted of energy. Debilitating sadness, anger or indifference can set in. You begin to lose the interest or motivation that led you to take on a certain role in the first place.

Source: www.helpguide.org

Yep, I'm definitely getting there.

Back to Kinshasa, my beloved

I come back to utter chaos in the airport; trying to elbow un-chivalrous men out of my way so I can pick up my and my suitcases (including my colleagues' Refugee bags full of dripping goat blood attracting flies); helping a traveling mom whose 2-year old daughter’s idea of fun involves cutting the air flow to my nose; navigating through mad traffic; and finally coming home to no electricity in the apartment (the bill was only one week late you fuckers). My perfect evening finished with scooping up a dead roach with my last empty toilet roll and going promptly to bed.

Weighing "Refugee Bags" before putting them in the plane's cargo

Gacaca (pronounced Gachacha)

We meet a Rwandese man who tells us about Gacaca. Almost verbatim, his testimony is the following:

“My impressions are the following. This period now (mid-April) is one of mourning. Each year, we feel the weight of contention. We are in a period of wake. It is now that you feel that the population’s traumas are coming out in the open. This year is worse than 1994. As time goes on, the trauma is being released. We, the NGOs and the government, do not have adequate tools to deal with this.

For twelve years, we have preached the message, « we can live together ». That was the first step. Now we are in a phase of Reconciliation and Justice. Should we forget the past and build a future or punish the culprits? This is a dilemma. We should combine the two. But this has its set of challenges. Classic justice [as we know it in the West] cannot solve these conflicts. We would like to recognize the blame but also reinstate populations. We use Gacaca Justice. It’s a participatory process allowing us to talk. We are amongst ourselves, in the community. This is how we can deal.

It has been a genocide by proxy—the neighbor, the friend, the family, the spectator denounce the other—so the level of participation [in the genocide] was significant. Gacaca is a compromise between forgetting and justice. We were not accustomed to law terms of the formal system of laws: Gacaca is a traditional method. You sit under the tree and deal with your problems. We had to add laws, teach formal procedures to the judges. This has not been easy. Now, we have train the judges. We have 80,000 prisoners of the Genocide. We may have 800,000 to 15 million prisoners [by the end of this process]. This is a large portion of the population.

We have made progress since 1995, 1996, 1997. Now fear/distrust have decreased, even if it still exists. The social climate is good. But with Gacaca, we are going to talk about the dead. There is a “resistance movement” that would like to prevent the Justice process. Since Gacaca is based on informal chats, there will be no definitives. But it seems to be a good system.

The question of the survivors is very delicate : how do we repair, deal with the trauma ? We do not have enough systems for that.

Good governance is a topic that worries us. There would be no genocide without the state’s influence. What type of power do we want to prevent a similar genocide? Post-genocidal society is very fragile. We have put in place basic institutions but citizen participation is low, governing is not very strong.

Poverty is caused by many factors. But the fact remains that the population is poor—there are social differences. For we who work in reconciliation, poverty has never been a cause of the genocide. It was not the poor that were the people undertaking the genocide. We must be clear: poverty was not the cause of the genocide.

The church is very important in Rwandan society. A difficult past since there have been clashes with the government..The Catholic church lost its moral clout and credibility—it is said that the church did not have a good role to play in the genocide. The church is in a phase of recovery. We can see an effort at self-examination—a “Christian Gacaca”. The church talks, insists on basic ecclesiastical communities as a vehicle of reconciliation and listening. The bishops support the state Gacaca. Justice and Peace commissions are closely involved in the Gacaca process. The Catholic church has chosen a more discreet profile, it does not involve itself as much in the government. Personally, I think this separation is important so that the church can reflect. There aren’t even any religious writings about the genocide. Today, the Catholic church has accepted to become a part of the society—before that, it was superior. This is a success.

It is better to talk than to ignore. It is painful, but we must talk”

The view from a hotel in Goma

I'm not sure what this fruit is but they call in a Mountain Potato

Rwanda and Congo are troubled neighbors

I will never fully understand the events that shaped the difficult relationship between Congolese and Rwandese. Some of my Congolese compatriots refuse to go to Rwanda if invited to a conference. Others are really excited to discover this country and are on their best behavior. The relationship between Congo and Rwanda is complicated at best. This stems partly from the mass influx of Rwandese trying to hide from the Genocide, and later, Rwandese getting away from revenge killings and justice proceedings following the genocide.

Another large factor in the mutual mistrust and a certain sense of jealousy. The differences between Rwanda and Congo are striking—Rwanda is easily 50 years ahead of its neighbor in infrastructure, government order, customer services, production etc. But that’s to be expected: Rwanda has been recovering from its war for the last twelve years…in Congo, civil society and inner struggles are still threatening the country today.

Congo is so much bigger than Rwanda that the logistical challenges of development and guarding its borders are enormous. People say that Rwanda steal Congo’s cobalt, Congo’s diamonds. I have even heard people say Rwandans have stolen Congolese Gorillas.

The last issue, not to be overlooked, is the complexity of the many attacks and counter attacks. Did Mobutu have a hand in putting Habyirima in power? Was Kabila the father friendly with the current president Kagame? Who knows rumors are flying and the Congolese are saddened by the 4,000,000 people dead and dying within their borders from the resulting civil wars.

A short history of recent conflicts in Rwanda

(Bear with me, this is a long one...)

We visit the Jenoside Museum (note: this is not a spelling mistake). It is very well designed, though some say that it seems a bit one-sided. I see images and footages of mass graves and gruesome death. I read each and every exhibit and come out confused and perplexed by the complexity of national and foreign involvement.

Later, I put this timeline together (note: this is almost verbatim from Wikipedia and the BBC):

1312—the Kingdom of Rwanda is founded
Hutus are subjugated through an extensive set of patronage relationships with the Tutsis. Over time, being Tutsi begins to equal “power”.

1756-1765—Mwami Rujugira reigns
He sets up Rwanda as a military power. Though there are little class distinctions in the military, Rwandan society is still very divided with the Tutsis in power positions and Hutus in serving positions. At the time, the terms Hutu and Tutsi are not really indicative of ethnic class. Rather, one that does well economically becomes a Tutsi, while one that is subjugated is considered a Hutu.

Germany briefly colonizes Rwanda, reinforcing Tutsi and Hutu class divisions.

1916—Belgian colonists arrive
They favor Tutsis over Hutus. Tutsis consistently get the better jobs and good educations.

European theories of race are propagated in Rwanda.

1959—A series of riots begins
This stems from Hutu resentment of the state of Rwanda’s civil society. Perceptions start the shift and Tutsis are viewed as feudal overlords.

Land is scarce and the country is overpopulated.

A Hutu majority is set up within the government. In the process, 20,000 Tutsis are killed and 200,000 flee to other countries.

1985-Tutsi refugees in Uganda form the Rwanda Patriotic Front (RPF) led by Paul Kagame
Their aims are to overthrow the current president Habyarima (a Hutu) and secure the right to return to their homeland.

January 22nd, 1994-A shipment of arms from France is intercepted in Kigali airport
The French government argues that the shipment is legal.

October 1st, 1990-RPF forces invade Rwanda
Habyarima represses Tutsis and Hutus that support Tutsi-interests. The killing of Tutsis and moderate Hutus begins. Radio stations encourage resentment and participation by diffusing hate messages and propaganda.

Radical groups start to amass weapons. Government leaders meet with secret groups.

June 1993 to mid-July 1994-A UK company supplies arms to the Hutu regime

January 1994-General Dallaire in charge of the UN, aware that something big is going to happen, pleads for more reinforcement
He is denied permission.

April 6th 1994-President Habyarima’s plane is shot down. The president of Burundi also dies in the same plane crash
No one really knows who did it and why (though you can talk to pretty much anyone who knows Rwanda’s history and they each have a different theory)—some blame Kagame (RPF leader), others blame his wife, Prime-Minister Kambanda, family members of Habyarima, and others say the Congolese or other foreign governments were involved etc…

The presidential guards set off a campaign of retribution against Tutsis in the capital, Kigali. Tutsis and moderate Hutu understood at once they would be attacked.

A militia group called Interhamwe (Hutu) is now 30,000 men strong. In their hands, the killing becomes more efficient. Family members, neighbors, children, couples are encouraged to participate in denouncing others, and often forced to undertake killings. The killings quickly spreads to the rest of the country. Close to 1,000,000 Tutsis and moderate Hutus are killed.

Mass exodus of Tutsis into Congo and neighboring countries. RPF troops (Tutsi) wage a civil war against the Hutu government.

The US tries to help by dropping large parcels of food, instead causing hungry mobs to fight. The US refuses to be involved in internal conflicts. UN troops evacuate foreigners and withdraw leaving few troops behind. The international community does little to help.

April 29th, 1994- The UN concedes that “act of genocide may have been committed”

Mass grave at the Jenoside Museum

July 1994-RPF captures Kigali
The government collapses, RPF ceases fire and is victorious. 2 million Hutus flee to neighboring countries, but especially into the DRC.

The large number of refugees into the Congo, destabilizes the country and sets off two civil wars there. Battalions of Interhamwe continue to operate in eastern Congo, causing tensions between Rwanda and the DRC (personal note: this is my Aha moment. I have been here for a year but I’m pretty slow to grasp politics).

UN troops and aid workers now arrive to maintain order and restore basic services.

July 19th 1994-A new multiethnic government is formed
Pasteur Bizimungu (Hutu) is made president while his cabinet is formed from RFP members (Tutsis). The president of Rwanda today is Paul Kagame, the one believed by some to have set off the internal war.

1996-1997-The Gacaca process is now started
A large number of ringleaders of the massacre are still at large.

In the evening, we are invited to a reception where Rwandese dancers shake and hop to the beat of their large drums. While the rhythm is intoxicating and subtly form-shifting, I can’t help shuddering when a male dancer, imitating a laborer plowing his field raised and lowers his hoe fiercely. I think of blood and decapitation. I walk amongst the Rwandese with a heavy heart.

A drive through Rwanda

We quickly drive to the Rwandese border and walk to the other side, where two cars are waiting for us. We immediately start our three-hour drive from the Rwandese border town of Gisenyi to the capital Kigali. It is an incredibly pleasant drive and I already feel my tense back-muscles relax. Though we only drive for three hours, we cover a distance of 250 km, more than half of the country’s width. I chuckle recalling my trips in the DRC where we cover 250km in 8 hours at best (two days during the rainy season). Rwanda has splendid roads that meander and twist around hills.

The country is essentially made of large hills, one rising up after the other. It is called “Le pays des Mille Collines” (“the land of the thousand hills”). Due to overcrowding, almost every square inch of land is cultivated. It resembles Peru or even Madagascar, with its stratified agricultural beds. The richer soils reside in the valley while the nutrient poor ones are on top of the hills. The water often washes crops away and strips the top soil of nutrients essential for growing crops. The poorer families own the lands on top of the hill. In addition to having to hike up the hills everyday to harvest their land, they also have poorer soil to work with.



I see loads of vibrantly orange carrots, neat cabbage mounds and bean sprouts attached to man-made tripods. There are cows in pastures! I feel like Julie Andrews in the Sound of Music, when she rushes up those green hills, twirling and breathing the fresh mountain air. Except in my fantasy, I sing off-key. I spend the first few days asking the hotel staff if this is really Rwandese-made cheddar, goat cheese, milk, strawberry/passion fruit and mango fruit juices and get strange looks from the vendors (side note: I stay in the famous Hotel des Milles Collines, otherwise known as Hotel Rwanda).

They say the Rwandese are cold, but I find them rather reserved and shy. It's pleasant not to have to make conversation for a change.

Early Beginning

I leave for Rwanda quite early in the morning to catch the 8:30am flight. I have never been up at 5:30am on a Sunday morning and notice masses and masses of Congolese joggers having their morning jog (or “footing” as they call it). Some are sparring and boxing with old rags around their hands, others are running in plastic sandals and torn shirts. I almost feel like I’m in a Rocky movie, without the cheesy music. There is surprisingly little traffic and I don’t recall ever driving on such deserted Kinshasa roads.

The airport is its usual mess, but there has been a remarkable improvement in the past year I’ve been here. There is less chaos, though I’m sure a foreigner would still be shocked his/her first time here.

We fly over Mbuji-Mayi, the diamond town, and my Congolese neighbor keeps on repeating that “people are literally walking on diamonds here, yet the city is still like a village, with families living in beaten mud houses”.

As we make our approach into Goma, there is a noticeable drop in cabin temperature. I grab for one of the three sweaters I brought and quietly enjoy the cool feeling while the other passengers shiver, switch their A/C vents off, or mumble and grumble.

The landing strip in Goma is few kilometers from the huge Kivu Lake. I am told that, if you row to the very middle of it, the fog slowly drops around you and the edges are so far that you feel like you are in the ocean. The city is dominated by a still active volcano which glows faintly at night. In 2001, there was a violent eruption that spread to the airport and informal shanty towns surrounding the volcano. Thankfully, the lava was slow flowing and few lives were lost. But it remains an impressive sight to fly into to the airport just over the river. The plane lands and the brakes are activated forcefully: the strip which was initially 3,000m is now reduced to 1,800m as the north end is completely covered with volcanic rock. Upon leaving the plane, the volcano looms ominously at the end of the strip, spewing gray smoke. To the left of the strip is a newly built shanty town with gleaming new corrugated iron roofs. I'm amazed that families would rebuild their houses right on top of their old house buried in lava.

I think of New Orleans where people insist on rebuilding their house right on the spot where mucky water has destroyed their land again and again. A colleague of mine who happens to be from New Orleans, says “it doesn’t matter where it is, it’s your home and you can’t leave it”.

My first impression of Goma is that all the colors are muted. It’s dusty from volcanic ash. Goma is sometimes referred to the Switzerland of Africa, for its cool and misty weather. Who knew it could be so pleasant in Africa?

Muted colors in Goma. This was a previously paved road. The cars are now driving on the leveled lava