Queen's Day

In Africa they have a saying that when someone offers you something to eat, you better take it cause you don’t know what will happen the next moment. Well, I guess that’s what happened to me yesterday.

I set off first thing in the morning to see an HIV/AIDS project run by a local NGO here in Beni. I came away very impressed and then joined 9 Congolese to attend the handing over of a new school building to the community of Lume. It was a beautiful drive (52 kms - 1.5 hours) that took us right through Virunga National Parc to the foot of the Rwenzori, one of Africa’s highest mountains, on the border with Uganda.

When we arrived hundreds of children were waiting for us, with parents and care takers and local officials among them. In the excitement of the moment the organization mistook me for being the Regional Director of World Vision for Eastern Africa and soon enough I was walking in front of a procession with a bunch of flowers in my hand, greeting the crowd and shaking hands of local officials: the Chief, the school’s head master, the district administrator, pastors and the head of the army and of the police...

A difficult moment came when the MC of the event expected the Regional Director to also address those gathered. Fortunately "the Director" had had some time to think of what to do when that problem would arise and prepare herself. Her short-but-to-the-point speech :-) was followed by World Vision’s Child Protection Assistent Manager’s prepared talk including the usual‘Vive la Republique de Congo’, and everyone seemed to be happy. The only thing they might have wondered about is why the Director for their region doesn’t speak a word of French, or Swahili, or Lingala for that matter...

After she handed over the keys of the new school building to the Chief, the procession went to inspect the new class rooms and latrines, followed by a ceremony of giving gifts: pour la visiteur! Well, la visiteur will leave the gifts with the World Vision team who really deserve them, and the absent Regional Director. After the first anxiety I had a few hours of fun. It reminded me of what we call ‘Queens Day’ in the Netherlands, where the Dutch queen visits local communities in the country. Here I was: for a few hours I happened to be the queen! :-)
But I am glad that from today I am a spectator again, watching things unfold from a relative distance.

(Photo: Listening to the national anthem of the DRC played by Lume's local group of musicians)

Ambulance

After the celebrations we still had some time to visit a few people in the community who are benefiting from a Dutch funded project for vulnerable and abandoned children and people affected by HIV/AIDS and other chronic diseases. By the time we left Lume and went back to Beni it was early in the evening.

Halfway we couldn’t drive any further cause of an accident that happened a little earlier. One motorist had died on the scene, two others were critically injured. When we could transport them with our car to the nearest hospital, their lives might be saved. So while our car was being used as an ambulance, we waited there for its return. In the mean time the crowd of people mourning and grieving at the scene of the accident grew. They came from the village nearby where the boys were from.
By then it was pitch dark and when police arrived with guns, it was time for us to move. We got a lift with a pick up truck and were dropped at the ‘Bureau du Chef’, the office of the Chief of the area: a small building on a small area cleared in the bush near the road. There we waited for our driver to come and pick us up.

Next thing, a man came out of the dark night, threw himself on the floor next to us while crying and shrieking. He appeared to be the distressed father of one of the hospitalized boys. “I lost one boy in the war and will I loose another now?” After some time a woman came, also out of nowhere, and calmly led him away.
While sitting there under the tall trees with no other lights then the starry sky, the Congolese around me chatted away. The darkness around us was almost tangible. The only movement came from small groups of people – adults and children - hurrying passed us; shadows quickly and quietly moving through the thick night towards the village of their brothers and sisters who were struck by a disaster a few hours ago.

Finally our driver arrived and we could return to Beni. It was indeed one of those days that you are glad that you ate when someone offered you something to eat.

(Photo: Three ladies in Lume who all live with HIV and are benefitting from the Hope project)

When will the road get better? (1)

“This road used to be good. When we see it’s getting worse, why don’t we do anything about it?” It’s a rethorical question and coming from Christian. Christian is from the DRC and working for World Vision in his own country. We’ve hardly met and already are trying to tackle the major questions. Issues that are not just theoretical but are affecting him and his people in very deep and real ways.

While our car is almost flying over the road, with or without potholes depending on whether the Chinese have been there or not, Christian searches for answers. He goes back in history to Mobutu Seko Seko’s dictatorship and money disappearing to foreign bank accounts and in the pockets of officials instead of being invested in infrastructure. After that, war followed war and it quenched the last bit of hope from people’s souls. If you know that what you build today is very likely to be destroyed tomorrow, why bother building at all?

As we are passing through a furtile land, fields and hills, rain forest and small villages with lots of people, I wonder again why it is that this nation that is so rich in all imaginable ways, can’t pull itself together. For with its resources and minerals it could be one of the wealthiest countries in the world.

In the mean time we are passing churches – churches everywhere. While schools are thinly spread, almost every village seems to have a church. Mostly catholic. In this nation the message is in my face: Or the gospel is not true and is not good news at all. Or we as a church have done something very terribly wrong. And to be honest, I think it’s the latter.

When will the road get better? (2)

My train of thoughts is suddenly interrupted when the driver stops the car. We’re in Komanda, a village between Bunia and Beni. Christian wants to get out to check on some news he heard yesterday. It appears that recent violence has forced a new group of refugees to camp in the yard of the local catholic church.

It’s not hard to find them. Around what looks like a church building is a crowd of approximately 500 people, mostly just standing or sitting while children either sit or play in the middle. A little boy is sitting on a huge stone, keeping a stained Unicef bag close to him. The UN's children's organisation has been handing out thousands of them in schools, and this boy obviously still has it including the pen and the note book it contained. Did he take it with him when his family had to leave everything behind? Just next to him a woman has started to gather fire wood in small piles next to the road, ready to sell.

In the meantime Christian has started talking with the chief and and the elders, while curious people soon become a crowd surrounding them. The chief tells that they are from the Lesse tribe. They have been here since Monday, after a rebel group attacked them and burned their houses. They had to run for their lives. And had nowhere else to go then back to this place that they left in April last year, when it seemed to be safe to go home again. The chief doesn’t know who the rebels were, but is desperate to find out. It’s not hard to guess why, says Christian when we are back on the road. The chief will want revenge.

It’s very hard to leave these people behind. No one seems to be looking after them and many of them haven’t had food since they arrived. They are just surviving. Hoping that someone will come and help them. Hoping that there will come a time that the roads will be good again.

Good bye - next stop

Tomorrow morning early I'll be leaving Bunia for a two hour trip to Beni. The journey used to take about eight hours but thanks to the Chinese (!) who build a new road, it's now a short drive. I'll be joining World Vision for about a week to visit some of their projects in and around Beni and (from Wednesday) in Goma. And hopefully do a few other things too.

It seems new violence has broken out around Gety, fights between the government's army and rebels, and also north of Bunia. Despite the fact that things here are definitely getting better, it shows that the situation is still quite explosive.

Thanks to Medair's wireless internet I was able to write regular updates, but don't expect this will continue. So for the next two weeks or so, please be patient. :-)

Dag Bunia

Ik ben begonnen aan mijn laatste dag in Bunia. Morgenvroeg hoop ik met een medewerker van World Vision naar Beni te rijden, een rit van ongeveer 2 - 3 uur is me verteld. Tot voor kort deed je daar zeker acht uur over, maar dankzij de Chinezen (!) die een behoorlijke weg hebben aangelegd, is het nu dus een kort ritje.

Ik heb de afgelopen dagen veel tijd doorgebracht in het Monuc-huis, zoals ze dat hier noemen. Het 'huis' bestaat uit een loods als restaurant ingericht met blauwgeruite tafelkleedjes. Aan de bar staan vaak de Griek die de tent leidt met een aantal Congolezen. Buiten schuilen een paar plastic tuintafels en stoelen onder rieten Hawai-parasolletjes, met daarachter een soort paviljoen: open met een groot rieten dak waar vlaggen van allerlei landen met punaises tegenaan geprikt zijn. Tegen de achterwand de grote UN-vlag met krabbels in de trant van 'I was here'. Je kunt er terecht voor een maaltijd, koffie, een biertje. Bovendien wordt er regelmatig een film gedraaid en vrijdagavond is er 'happy hour'.

Hoewel het Monuc-huis in eerste instantie is bedoeld voor de medewerkers van de gelijknamige VN-vredesmissie, heeft het vooral ook de functie van centrale ontmoetingsplek voor de buitenlanders ('expats') die in Bunia werken. Bij de poort moet je je identificeren en het blijkt dat mijn Postbank-kaart de deuren hier wagenwijd opengooit. :-) Of is het Riët? We hebben er deze week in ieder geval aardig wat tijd doorgebracht.

Maar ik heb er ook een paar keer gezeten met mensen die hier werken zoals Valerie, een Congolese die zich het lot heeft aangetrokken van vrouwen en kinderen in deze omgeving. En een verschil probeert te maken door hen te helpen met het verdienen van een inkomen en te informeren over seksuele overdraagbare ziektes. Of met iemand als Bryan die werkt aan het opruimen van mijnen en iedere keer weer geniet van het geluid van het opblazen van ammunitie en wapens. Wetend dat niemand die ooit meer kan gebruiken.

Er is ook een loods waar een aantal fitnessapparaten staan opgesteld en daar kun je de 'expats' regelmatig vinden aan het einde van een werkdag. Om het af te wisselen rijdt Riët een paar keer per week naar het vliegveld waar je rondjes kunt rennen over het zandpad om de landingsbaan. Gisteravond meegeweest. Al lopend genoten van rust (geen stof, en geen vliegtuigen...), schitterend uitzicht en een ondergaande zon. Maar goed, beetje bizar is het wel. Stel je voor dat je op Schiphol rondjes kon gaan rennen om de landingsbaan....

Zoals gezegd, morgenvroeg op weg naar Beni. Dankzij Medair’s draadloze internetverbinding was ik hier in staat iedere dag te schrijven. Dat zal de komende twee weken anders zijn. Je zult dus waarschijnlijk even moeten wachten op de volgende blog.

Demining

You can have a nation where there is peace and that has been rebuild. But what if the citizens of that nation have not found peace within themselves? War and natural disasters leave their marks in lives of human beings all around the world. And although we are quick in responding with food, medication and rebuilding houses, it doesn’t deal with what is going on inside, in the hearts of the people involved. That’s why MedAir in Bunia is running a psycho-social project for people living in the war-torn Ituri-district.

The people of Congo have had, and some still have, more then their share of war. And the main aim of MedAir’s psycho-social project is to help them understand that it’s normal if they and/or those around them struggle with symptoms of stress such as aggression, night mares, alcohol abuse. When you tell people this, it's a huge relief to them cause they now understand, Riët tells me. She’s been the project manager running the project since 2006 and she works with two very qualified Congolese people.

She continues explaining: “When we do our training we explain to people what the symptoms of traumatic stress are and give them some simple tools that they can use in dealing with the issues. Besides trying to continue normal life as much as possible, talking and listening are extremely important tools. People need to have a place where they can talk about their experiences and where there is someone who is listening.”
To do this doesn’t require a psychiatrist, she says. It could start in the IDP-camps where people can help and support one another just by listening. “Talking about experiences helps to destress and the sooner you can do this, the more it can prevent bigger problems at a later stage”.

In training key people in communities, health structures and in schools, MedAir wants to enable them so that they can help and support those around them. So far the results of this training have been encouraging and the plan is to end the project in July this year.

Crops
“I really feel we’re making a difference”, Bryan says. He is working with a South African demining company in the Ituri area. “When we blow up the ammunition and weapons, when you hear the loud ‘bang’.... that’s a great feeling. Cause you know that no-one ever can use these things anymore. And it's wonderful to see when people start growing their crops again on the field that you have just cleared.”

He tells me how before they got to clear a piece of road, a pregnant woman was hit by a mine and lost her baby and both her legs. When they got in, they didn’t just clear the mine but also helped her to find medical attention and to get prosthetic legs. These days she is involved in bringing awareness to her fellow country men and women about the risk of mines and what to do when they detect one.

It strikes me that ‘demining’ seems to be a key to find a long lasting solution for Congo’s deep ingrained problems. Not just clearing the land but also people’s minds – bringing inner healing so that they can really move forward into another future.