DRC...

Been back in the US just over a week now and my body, mind and spirit are slowly coming back into some sort of alignment after the blitz and buzz of warp speed travel. But that is the way of it. Now it is time to slow to a stop and regain a sense of self in one place for a time. Take some deep breaths and long walks and pour back through the many miles and moments of the past 11 weeks... People have asked me what I learned in my travels. And while I am keenly aware that I have come away with a bundle of stunning gems, I am not sure yet how to answer that... with a sweeping, gushing generalization of a glorious adventure? Nonchalantly toss them one or two of the bright shiny stones... "Eh, you know... it was great."

As I look down at my hands full of color and sparkle- I am a bit stuck for words. I don't yet know what the sum total means, or even what each individual piece means. I feel the need- over an extended period of time- to pick up each one of these gems, these experiences, conversations, sunsets and bus-rides, examine it closely, turn it over in my hands, hold it up to the sunlight... and absorb its color and intensity into my being. And at the end of that... I don't know if I will be any closer to grand discovery. But this blogging process, goofy as it may be, seems in a small way a part of this- both for myself, and for you, dear and loving friend. So let me see... ah yes, this small intensely deep emeraldgreen oval one... Congo... Let me tell you a bit about my travels into Congo.

From Lake Bunyonyi Kara, Sarah and I took a boat-taxi-bus-matatu-taxi to Kagando Hospital very close to the Uganda/Congo boarder where Sarah is doing her internship. Kara stayed on with Sarah several days visiting and 'advising' her, while I connected up with a vanful of UCBC folk heading to Beni the following day.

Sarah and I doing mandalas at the Kagando guest house.

Kagando is at the Uganda-side foothills of the Rwenzori mountains:
Crossing into Congo at the boarder: (Our van was loaded down to be sure... but this poor truck, one of many... was REEEEEEEALY loaded down...) Beni is only 80 kilometers from the boarder, but it took us a good 3 hours to get there. Once in Congo... the tarmac ceases and the graded roads are, well... not so great.

Driving into Beni:
Both of my parents were born and grew up in different parts of northeastern Congo... and my sister, brother and I grew up visiting my grandma where she lived and worked in Adi, and my grandma and grandpa at their home in Itendey. I had never been to Beni- though it is not much farther south.

Congo is an immense and immensely complicated county; one of the richest places on this earth in terms of mineral resources, and yet it is that mineral wealth and the exploitation of that mineral wealth by the rest of the world that has kept the country in a constant state of conflict and civil war for the last 15 years. Beni has been/is a fairly stable place; many have fled conflict in other regions to be there. For a little more info on Congo here is one link, and another.

I/we went to Congo, and to Beni specifically to visit UCBC- the Christian Bilingual University of Congo, a university that is just in its third year of running as part of The Congo Initiative (or CI). My parents have been involved with CI since its very small beginnings- it is what has grown out of the dreams and visions of family friends, the Kasalis, a Congolese couple who want to see their country and its people liberated and transformed through the education and opportunity. The university, UCBC, is the first 'piece' of that initiative. In its third year running, and only a fraction of what it will someday be... but there are some 300 students currently enrolled, and it is a glittering pool of hope and optimism and hard work, amongst what are for most students, extremely hard circumstances.

Eventually there will be an Arts center and a Pubic Health center/clinic... so much of our (Kara and my) reason for going was to see, to feel, experience and imagine what could be.

The main building at UCBC: Unfinished, but complete enough to hold all classes.
Looking down towards the community center that is being built at UCBC, which will eventually house the art program:
The grammar II class I taught for a few brief days(yes I did say grammar II, you can chuckle if you must...). And yes, most of the students know more english grammar than I do. Hmmm, I wonder how many grammatical errors are in this post?? I like to call them liberties, bytheyway.... An intentional breaking of the rules, AKA artistic license... :)

Driving to Oicha, a town about an hour away where my mom was born.
The beautiful Rwenzori Mountains coming through the clouds:
Dinner with Aline and Justan: We knew Aline from growing up, she is the daughter of Mandro- a dentist who apprenticed with my grandpa at Itendey. Justan and Aline are both doctors working at the hospital in Beni, and were recently married. Dinner with them was not only DELICIOUS (see all the fried bananas, boiled bananas, chicken, fish, avocados and pineapple?? Oh, what a generous feast...!) but one of those beautiful moments of connection and belonging with good people.

The big skies of Congo:

After ten days, we bumped and bounced our way back to the boarder in a speed-demon taxi car, where we got on one of the local buses bound for Kampala. We left Beni at 8 in morning, and arrived in Kampala around 11 that evening. The roads in Uganda are pretty good, but it is far and the bus stops what seems like every ten minutes to pick up and drop off fellow travelers. We spent a day recuperating at friends' in Kampala before the next 12 hour bus ride from Kampala- Nairobi.

The Akamba bus to Nairobi was maybe the best bus ride yet on this trip of never ending and endless bus rides... We had the equivalent of bulkhead seats- RIGHT behind the driver, so lots of leg room and a panoramic view of the road ahead *which, was lovely except that Akamba busses have a bit of a reputation- a most accurate reputation (we had front row seats to the show!) for being road hogs/bullies... barreling along at break-necking speeds on 2-lane highways where there is no shoulder, passing other cars and busses with impossible margins... ah but we lived to tell the tale... another day another bus ride. And actually, this first of our two drivers was incredibly sweet... he reminded both of us of our friend Greg and the prayer he prayed (every bus we rode in east africa took a moment for a prayer before departing)- was one of the very sweetest prayers...! I was instilled with great confidence, and despite all craziness rather enjoyed the ride.
Driving through Kericho (see all that glorious Kenya tea??) and a drenching rainy season rainstorm:
Passing Lake Elementeita around sunset... not much of a lake there at the moment sadly, but hopefully the rains will change that:
And... ahhhh, the comforting familiar outline of Longonot coming into view. It was the delicious feeling of coming home after a long long journey.

Lake Bunyonyi, Uganda...

In the corner of southwestern Uganda, right on the border with Rwanda, is a big freshwater lake (the second deepest in Africa- though the actual depth is apparently unknown) called Lake Bunyonyi. Our destination after a few days in Kampala: Kara visiting her advisee, and me enjoying some peaceful down time at Bensons while also getting a bit more acquainted with Kampala while trying to obtain Congo visas for Kara and me. A day long venture of walking to the embassy, finding the embassy, filling out the forms but being told I must go to a bank downtown to to pay for the visas, ok now to another bank (that accepts my atm card) to get extra cash out to pay the exorbitant cost of the visas because they were more than I was told initially... but ok, so then back to the first bank again to pay, and then to find an internet cafe--oh not that one-- another one where I can actually log onto mac.com to then print out our letters of invitation, and THEN back to the congo embassy to be told that our visas will be ready in 24 hours... unless we want to pay double! Um, no thanks. All this while riding boadas (zippy little motorcycle taxis) on the ONE day the police decided to crack down on helmet wearing. So yes, we got whistled over by a police man, but rather than get arrested for not wearing a helmet, my boda driver STEPPED on it, swerved, ducked out of reach-- while I'm on the back hanging on dearly and ever so slightly concerned for my life-- rammed into the back of a car and had to make aNOTHER speedy, zippy getaway... but, phew we made it and I did not end up splattered all over the road or someone elses windshield...)

So we opted to wait the extra day- which was a bit of a welcome thing for both of us, before we got on the Post Bus for a lovely 8, 10, 12 hour (?) ride down to lake Bunyonyi. And ok, bus rides are busrides, but it was absolutely brilliant countryside we were treated to along the way! And a numb bum is a small price to pay for such visual delight to be sure!

We met up with the three students for a few days of R&R at a little island camp place. It was a few days of early morning sunrises and gentle sunsets, and walks and lots of sitting and talking and reading and drinking tea and watching the rain and eating delicious food and using composting toilets all in view of the ever-so lovely lake bunyonyi. And in the good company of the many many spiders that also reside on that peaceful little island.

The three students: Sarah, Megan, Bree and Kara and I before heading back...

We boarded another bus then a matatu then a taxi up to Kagando Hospital, further north in Uganda and very near the Congo boarder. I was there one night before heading in to Congo, while Kara stayed on with Sarah for her intern visit.

West Pokot, Nakwjit

West Pokot is a stunningly beautiful place- the sort of landscape I would be happy to find myself lost in entirely I think. Kara and I went with Than to see another one of the projects he is working on. Africa Exchange (The small non-profit Than is a part of) works with communities developing ICDCs, or Integrated Child Development Centers, that prepare young children for primary school. Africa Exchange is developing/ supporting a number of these centers around Kenya, enabling them to become completely self-supporting. One way they are able to support themselves is through relatively low-impact, environmentally sound, income-generating projects. In West Pokot honey has been harvested traditionally, and could be a great source of income for the ICDC at Nakwjit.

Africa Exchange is in partnership with African Beekeepers- an organization that spreads bee-love around the country with new and improved bee-friendly honey harvesting technology. The beehives they produce and promote- do right by the bees... Honey is only harvest from the hives' excess- never taken from the stores that sustain the hive. And the queen and her babies are never bothered. It's a beautiful win win win sort of situation- the technology and equipment provided by African Beekeepers in partnership with Africa Exchange, enables the community to harvest top quality honey, with very little impact on the bees, sell it for the highest market prices, and ultimately support their ICDC and their children's education! Fantastic!

So hives were set up at Nakwjit some months ago, and we were on a mission to see how they were doing and harvest any honey that was ready to be harvested. Ken, a lovely, earnest beekeeper, came with Than to walk and talk folks through harvesting process with their new fandangled hives and equipment. Kara and I were simply along for the ride. Adventure really.

... Which began with having to traverse a fairly shallow but wide river on foot to get to the ICDC on the other side...

Like I said, BE-U-TI-FUL!

Below, Ken discusses how bees are very particular little critters and will only colonize nice, clean, orderly spaces. If a hive is infested with any other sort of dudu before the bees arrive- they won't enter and colonize it. Several hives had been thus invaded, and were in need of a thorough cleaning out of all cobwebs, bugs and whatever else was hindering bee settlement....
A late afternoon rainy season down-pour rolled in just as the fellows were bee-suiting-up and ready to go... So we waited it out at the center.
Earlier in the clear, sunny afternoon this riverbed was dry...
After the rains, we caught the headwaters of the 'flood' coming down while the fellows were harvesting honey... It was pretty trippy to look over and see the riverbed start to fill up and flow. Although, really this wasn't a terribly big river, or a substantial 'flood' we discovered later.

The harvesting took place a little later than was ideal because of the rains, which meant finishing up in the dark.

The goods! Brought to Kara and I still warm and buzzing from the hive... absolutely DELICIOUS!

Once a comb has been filled up with honey, the bees seal it with wax, that turns whitish once it has cured. The sealed combs are then easily carried up to the center where the 'cap' is scraped off with a metal-toothed deal... the comb is then put in a centrifuge where the honey is spun out and collected. And essentially good to go at this point. So cool!

But the excitement of the evening was really only just beginning at that point... It was good and dark by the time they were finishing up the honey harvesting with was no electricity, and just a few torches. We had planned to camp at the center for the night and hike back out in the morning, so as they finished up, Kara and I set about putting up the tents. Word from the mountains (upstream) (and thanks to cell phone communication) was that more rain, potentially a LOT more rain, was on its way. If the river we crossed earlier that day rose in the night we would be be stuck, possibly for a couple of days... So no sooner had we gotten the tents up, than we were told to take them down. Quickly. We needed to get back across the river that night- which after seeing the 'flood' earlier that afternoon, seemed like no joke. So we set about taking DOWN the tents, in the mud... and OWWW!!! Something stung me! AGAIN! As I stomped around, out from my pant leg fell a nice, big, inch-and-a-half-long, shiny, black scorpion! The very sight of the thing sent adrenalin pumping into my veins... Than came over to inspect, confirmed that it was in fact a nice, big, inch-and-a-half-long, shiny, black scorpion, and proceeded to stomp it out of existence. The stings hurt to be sure, but I wasn't exactly writhing in excruciating pain (although I worried I might at any minute begin convulsing and who knows what else...) There was nothing really to do except roll my baggy pant legs UP out of the reach of all creeping, crawling, stinging critters. And continue packing up.

In short order we were all ready: two women carying a freshly chinga-ed, half-plucked chicken for dinner in a sufuria, men carrying the freshly harvested honey, three or four school boys helping with the equiment and the three of us carrying the rest of our what-not. We set off in the dark. No moon, just the little patches of headlamp-lit ground in front of us. My foot still burning.

We reached the edge of the river, stopped and stood perfectly still for a few minutes. Listening. For the roar of flood waters in the distance?! This is MADNESS I think! We're all going to die, surely! We're going to be swept away in the middle of the river. They'll find our bodies washed up way down stream in the morning... But no one hears anything, so we strike out... the water is not much deeper than our knees, but it is moving, and the bottom is uneven... and like I said, it was DARK. and when you're trying to walk through moving water with uneven footing- and NOT panic, and all you see is a patch of swift moving water in front of you... it, well its not so easy, I'll just tell you. But we made it. I'm not sure we were in any serious danger really... but I was mighty glad to reach the other side. Foot still burning.

We got back to the car and the little 'village' on the other side. 9pm. The women who had killed the chicken, set about building a fire in one of their houses nearby to prepare it for our dinner. Which we ate two hours later. After sitting and waiting in the tiny little room attached to the kitchen. My foot still burning, but not any worse. And that chicken must have had a rough go of it too... TOUGH AS NAILS, I tell you! But we were ever-so-grateful for all the time and work put into our being fed at that late hour. Extremely humbling.

It was decided that we should sleep on the floor of a class room at the secondary school just up the road. No sooner do we get there, then the heavens declared the rainy season come. And oh but it RAINED. I was glad the river was behind us.

The next morning we were headed out by 6am; Kara and I had a bus to catch in Eldoret at 1.00pm. My stings ceased burning, but the top of my foot was asleep/tingly numb for the next few days. Interesting stuff, scorpion stings.

At 1, we boareded the Kampala Coach- a great big bus that took us on the first of our many butt-numbing busrides over the next few weeks, We arrived in Kampala at 9pm that night. Kara was whisked off by her her advisee for the next few days, and I enjoyed the lovely, peaceful home of dear family friends, while sorting out our Congo visas and riding Kampala bodas (motorcycle taxis) here and there and back again... In retrospect, I think maybe it was the bodas that were more concern-worthy than that silly river or a few scorpion stings! Ha.

Next stop, Lake Bunyonyi.

warthog weekend interlude...

*While I promised most exciting tales of our West Pokot trip for my next post (which I will make good on soon to be sure), I must just interject a brief post from this past weekend.*

So Than and I decided to get out of town this weekend and go camping at Lake Nivashsa... Fishermans camp- that great big beautiful place with the huge yellow acacia fever trees where we so often went growing up- has been divided in half and is now two campsites. We stayed at the "Carnellies" side, which seems a little nicer and quieter- Fishermans still gets the big overlanders (aka: scuzzbucket safaris ala my dad) and school groups. Carnellies is very nice, complete with a little bar/ restaurant (great for when you decide to go camping at the last minute and don't have much in the way of gear or food and the firewood you just bought is too wet to even entertain the notion of lighting). The site was empty being that the rains are here now and the days are soggy-- not real ideal for camping, but we went anyway. And it really was oh-so very nice!

So yesterday afternoon, we were sitting up at the restaurant, which has lovely big cushioned sitting spaces- looking out at the rain... I had brought a couple of books along- One Life at a Time, Please by Edward Abby and Wild Ducks Flying Backward by Tom Robbins- who can be kind of... obnoxious, (... well, not for the easily offended to be sure) but really actually quite a good read and rather a good laugh (most of the time)... (These are two of Thans favorite books, oh-by-the-way, so I'm giving them a shot) So while we sat there, sipping our tea, I decide I'll read one of the short stories out-loud. I pick "The Day the Earth Spit Warthogs" from the Tom Robbins book. WHICH I highly recommend by the way- I think you might get a royal hoot out of it. So I'm reading reading reading... And just as I get to the part where the earth actually does spit warthogs, Than says, 'Oh, look Rach, there he is!' And there he was- in all his wiry, steel-wool glory, clomp clomp clomping towards us at a nice tail-in-the-air trot. A warthog. And I think to myself how funny! Assuming, of course, he'll stop once he sees us. But... he doesn't stop... which I realize in time to jump up and out of the way as he hops delicately with his pointed little ballerina hooves- onto the cushioned bench. And keeps on coming... He B-lines for my bag, starts rooting through it, pulls out the bottle of lavender-scented hand sanitizer-- a mighty tasty morsel I guess-- and crunches away! I had my camera in my pocket (always do you know, for such times as these) and snapped a few shots before I realized he was in fact doing my belongings some damage! OY!

So, turns out he is actually a 'pet' of sorts (and the cleanest 8-month old warthog you'll ever see to be sure), that they've had at camp for a while and are getting ready to take to Daphne Sheldricks (where orphaned baby elephants and rhinos are rehabilitated just outside of Nairobi) next week. He joined us for dinner too... and the most hysterical part- other than him loving up Than (go figure) were the teeny-tiny little squeaks he made. Like he really was just a big baby... TOO FUNNY! Sounds outlandish, I know, so here are a few photos-- proof that this all did actually happen just as I am telling you... (and PS- the photo above was taken in the two minutes of sunshine between rain showers, looking out from our cozy cushioned spot. It really did rain just about the whole time we were there.)

Rooting for goodies....

Getting some lovings from Than after his good deeds....
Our dinner guest, back for more love....