I need a haircut

6/27/13

Bad Day. I’m a little frustrated with people but I’m mainly frustrated with myself. When timelines aren’t kept and work starts falling through the cracks it’s easy to pass the blame but it’s really my responsibility. My expectations and objectives have not been clear enough and I have failed to delegate properly. Work and learning French is going well but it could be going better. I expect a lot from myself because I don’t have much time, I want to take full advantage of the time I have.

To blow off some steam and to exercise I go behind the convent to the mill and chop wood for about an hour each day. At 4:30 all the carpenters leave for the day so I’m often alone. Occasionally a priest or a security guard will stop by and give me some pointers.  It’s really difficult work. I’m splitting logs into quarters lengthwise. This requires you to first read the log- you're looking to exploit naturally occurring cracks. Then with a dull axe, you chop away. When you get the axe deep into the log you leave the axe and use a second to try to lengthen the cut. I watched a carpenter quarter a log in about 8 minutes. It takes me about 15. Each of the carpenter’s blows was true. I hit my mark on about every 5^th strike. At first onlookers thought I had no idea what I was doing. Now people realize I’m just really new to this. I might have to take a break tomorrow because of my blisters.  I told a security guard I had soft hands like a girl. He disagreed- I have hands like a baby. haha

“…Little by little the work will be finished…you should not rush…”

Petit à petit on arrive à bout de l’œuvre; donc il ne faut jamais se précipiter.

En chaque œuvre la patience et la persévérance sont nécessaires.         African Proverb

Today one of the security guards asked me to look for a job for him. He told me the nights are cold, lonely and long.  But what he said next made me reevaluate my security. He said “when” bandits come he would be the first person to be killed. I immediately responded, “Yeah, and me second! I’m who they’d be coming for!” We both laughed in agreement.

I fell into a trap today. A Congolese man asked me how much it would cost them to go to America. Normally I don’t talk about money but I thought this was innocent enough. I said it would be at least $2,000 for the roundtrip plane ticket and probably a large amount for a visitor’s visa that would be difficult to obtain.  To avoid sounding pretentious I pointed out that it was difficult for me to obtain a visa for the DRC. But it was too late- “So can you give me a dollar? I’m really poor and you’re rich”.  I tried to explain that I didn't pay that expense but I wasn't convincing anyone, not even myself (to be fair, I only give money to charities I think are doing good work). Later on that day I tried to calculate how many days it would take a person earning minimum wage in the US to earn as much as a Congolese makes in a year.  I came to a number that was about 36. The number 36 just made my heart drop because I know I have been in the DRC for more than 36 days. But I felt sick to my stomach when I realized I miscalculated. It wasn't 36 days; it’s only 36 hours of work.  The average income here is around 250 – 300 dollars a year and I assumed minimum wage is $7 in the US.

I need a haircut. Today I noticed one of the priests was having his haircut so I walked over. But the strange looking spot on the barber's head reminded me of the same spots I see on some of the kids at school. The barber uses a pair of shears that work without electricity. They kinda look like scissors. Well I think it’s safe to assume the shears are not swabbed with alcohol like they would be in a United States barber shop. I have a feeling I might start developing spots too if I get my haircut here. I have three options: 1) just let my hair grow wild 2) allow someone to just hack at my hair with a pair of scissors and hope for the best, or 3) allow a barber to use sheers on my head and bring back my Jamaican nickname white chocolate.  Hahaha Whatever I choose I’m going to frighten myself when I look into a mirror.

Smothering Curiosity

6/22/13 

Typically I write these blog entries offline, since internet is a luxury here in DRC, so even if I wanted to- I can’t verify this- 

I don’t know which was most recent...my last shower or my last blog?

I’m taking a shower tonight, even though I’m not looking forward to the ice cold dribble of water. I know I shouldn't be complaining. Thinking back to when I was in Peace Corps, I would have loved to give up my cold "bucket bath" for a cold shower.

The great progress I have been making with the evaluations here in Butembo is starting to slow. I am being pulled in too many directions. Yesterday, since I was going outside the city, I needed to take an off-road vehicle.  My driver unexpectedly brought me to a local hospital and a doctor gave me a tour of the facility. At the end of the tour he bluntly asked, “So what can you do for us?” My heart dropped and I honestly told him I doubted I could provide any assistance.  I will however look into Texas A&M College of Rural Health, to see if something can be done.  If anyone wants to donate money I’ll happily put you in contact with the hospital.  But, I’d recommend the clinics for sexual assault survivors over the hospital.

That’s heavy.  Also, kinda sad.  Atrocities beyond words…

Today I decided that I will not be taking the short route through the school for at least a day. We all know that children learn through their senses and experiences.  Well, the children in the square excitedly run over to me each day, with their "smothering curiosity".  Using their hands, their noses, their eyes – they touch and feel and yell,  “MAZUNGU!” “the white guy”. 

This afternoon, (Saturday is “fun day” at school), the kids didn't just periodically try to touch my arms but they grabbed onto me and didn't want to let go.  One kid even pinched me. It’s a 300m walk through the school courtyard (3/4 of a lap around a track), that’s a long walk and I have not learned how to say “don’t touch me,I'm King of the Playground!” in French. It will be the first thing I ask my coworkers on Monday. I might even have one of them walk with me so they can say something to the kids….

When I was in the Peace Corps, I was threatened a few times by 20-something year old guys while walking to my house in my community,  yet I never sought anyone’s support.   I can’t believe that I have to tell a coworker to help me out with a group of 9 year olds.   

It’s crazy lol.

I’m still enjoying myself and learning a lot here. I even think I might be putting back on some of the weight I dropped. Eh, maybe not... just had to tighten my belt a notch. But the food is good, people are nice, weather is great, no mosquitoes (knock on wood, I stopped taking my malaria medication), and French is coming along. 

King of the Playground

6/11

Pack of Kids and Heart of Darkness

Finally I have internet!!!! But, it doesn't really work. It takes me 30 minutes to connect and about 5 minutes to load a Wikipedia page.  At least I can check my email and google news once a day. 

Now I’m in the daily motion of wake-up, eat, work, read, write, eat, read, sleep. Not too exciting. French is coming along slowly but surely. 

Everyone seems to be very concerned for my safety, even me sometimes! But the greatest threat to my safety I knowingly encountered so far is walking across the school grounds to work (not exactly Iraq). When I walk back to the convent for lunch, there have to be 400 6 – 11 year old kids out of class just playing around. I’m embarrassed to admit that walking through this mass of children is a little nerve racking. It starts off with one child saying “good morning”, then a crowd of children starts growing around me just to stare- no words, just blank looks. Then another child says "good morning", then another, then the kids start yelling it, and another child yells “MAZUNGU!” –white person! Then a child touches my arm and the entire group yells in excitement, then another kid touches me, then the crowd of children surge forward all wanting to touch my white skin. I push forward through the crowd trying not to think of the children turning into little piranhas and telling myself “display courage and control”!!!..   I wasn't actually afraid, (I’m going to do the same walk tomorrow without hesitation) but I was probably embarrassed because teachers and parents just watched.  I really wish I could get a video of this. I should probably walk through the kids with a priest tomorrow so he can tell the kids to behave, as I don’t want to encourage the mass excitement. Who am I kidding, what I really want to do is stand still with 100+ kids around me and yell “I’m king of the playground!!!!”

I did finish reading Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad. I have a little respect for the book because it’s based on Conrad’s personal experience in the DR Congo and could provoke a very interesting discussion.  But other than that, I think this “literary masterpiece” is overrated. It explores the darkness of the human soul without acknowledging the darkness of dehumanizing a group of people.  Instead of the Congo River taking the main character into the darkness, the river was taking him out the darkness of slavery and into a place where people cared about one another and even would die for one another. At times the book drove me crazy. I even think Conrad missed the point of his adventure.  He missed the point of the adventure I’m having- emotions of love, hate, and longing are universal. You don’t find the darkness in the Congo; the Congo just makes you aware that it’s inside you with the rest of your soul.  Feel free to disagree.

6/13

Work is going well

6/8 - 6/9/2013

6/8 

Work is going incredibly well- The university UGC has been very respective to the idea of collaborating on research with A&M, I’m making incredible contacts with influential people and the city of Butembo continues to surpass my expectations- Great university, location and functioning local government.

I originally wanted to checkout Butembo because I heard it had a high elevation ideal for coffee production. I just found out that Butembo is the largest city in the entire province (approximately 1 million people). Unlike some of the smaller cities, Butembo lacks UN flights, a single store that sells internet modems and a single paved road- this led me to believe it was a small city.

  

Today I had a drink with the priest that overseas development in the area. While sitting on a balcony overlooking the city we discussed my work over the next 10 weeks and he provided some valuable insight.

While looking out over the city I said, “Change is coming to Butembo, mark my words, within five years paved roads and electricity. I just hope the change is a positive change.”

He replied, “Maybe the rest of the country can learn a lesson from Butembo. Development is good, but people don’t come here from the bush because we have electricity but because we have peace.”

  

 6/9

Everyone Loves Soccer

I slept for 10 hours last night! I was mentally exhausted, tired from adapting to the culture, studying, reading, not sleeping well- it was all pilling up.  This morning I decided to breakout of this cycle and have some well deserved fun.

Luckily I deleted all my movies and TV shows off my computer so I was forced to leave my room. I took my soccer ball and my smart phone with all my American music on it and I headed to the Seminary’s large rocky parking lot.  I turned on Rihanna’s new cd (everyone knows Rihanna) and started juggling the soccer ball. Only took 10 minutes before the kids in the neighborhood started whistling at me.   Five kids from the neighborhood joined me in a circle to juggle the soccer ball. After 5 minutes a priest approached and I could only make out that he didn't want us playing in the parking lot. I was really disappointed because I figured that meant I was going to have to go back to the solitude of my room. But instead of telling me to stop, he lead me across the street and showed me a large enclosed piece of land that had once been used to store construction material- a perfect soccer field. For the next hour and a half I played soccer with about 15 kids in the community. People stopped in utter surprise to see a white man playing soccer with large group of kids. Some parents probably tried to ask me what I was doing there but all I could say was “Hi, my name is Patrick! English! No French!” I had a terrific time. I’m looking forward to practicing French with them.

Using the soccer ball to meet my community is something I learned during Peace Corps thanks to the very generous donation Kurt’s dad Dan made to me. With the money he sent me I bought three soccer balls.  I’d play almost every afternoon with my community.

6/4

Back to Goma...

I made it to Goma, but now I’m stuck at the Planet Hotel in Goma until I can work out my travel arrangements to Butembo. I’m using this time to organize my expenses and read Heart of Darkness. Nothing much to say about this.

6/5 

Father Patrick

Finally made it to Butembo, and have settled in to my new home for the next 10 weeks.

When I arrived I was taken to the Caritas building to meet all the local staff. My guide brought me from office to office introducing me as “Patrick”. I decided after a few failed attempts at helping the staff pronounce Gavin that I should just go by my middle name Patrick. I was also introduced as single! Turns out, most of the staff are single young local women.  The only reason I point this out is because it sets up what happens later…

Next we went to the convent and house where the priests live. I was given a tour and introduced to all the priests. Everyone was shocked I didn't know any French but everyone was very warm and welcoming. Then I was shown a few of the rooms.  I stepped into a small room and my bag was sitting on the bed waiting for me! This is my new home.

I’m going to live with 10 priests with a shared bathroom, 4 hours of electricity per day, no English speakers, my own bed, desk and sink. On the sink a bottle of liquor was waiting for me. An hour later I sniffed the bottle; it was filled with water...  

I don’t think I could have asked for a better living situation. Of course I’m not thrilled about the lack of hot water (it’s cold in the mountains) and no internet,  but the priests should be great guides to many communities, great French teachers and provide a safe home for the next 10 weeks.

Now I’m going to jump into a frigid shower.

5/30 - 6/2/13

“The King of Africa”

This is the email I sent to my mom tonight using my phone-

“Mikeno Lodge in Rumangabo  at the Virunga National Park is breathtaking.  It’s only $80 a night because tourists can no longer come due to the ongoing violence between the rebel group M23 and the Congolese forces. Besides a big donor to the park, I'm the only guest.  Both the government and M23 rebels like the place so they leave it alone. Before I made it to the park I happened to run into the political leader of the rebels! I was afraid they would wrongfully assume I was a spy or something because why on earth a white guy would be hanging out in the national park. I guess they didn't seem to mind.

I'll be here for three nights.  I only have internet in the lobby.  Monkeys move through the towering trees all day, and they have orphaned gorillas here.  When the Park is open, people pay thousands of dollars to see this!  I really would like to travel with you and Cullen.

Love you, 

Gavin.

PS  don't worry.  I feel safe."

Virunga National Park - Breathtaking

http://www.visitvirunga.org/about-virunga/

I feel like a king here. My bungalow comes with complimentary laundry service and great food. It overlooks a breathtaking valley.  I have a dedicated staff that waits on me hand and foot. The hotel is 5 stars all the way! I even have rangers patrolling to make sure I’m safe at all times (this might not be because it’s 5 star but because rebels control the area and tourists are not allowed in this area). The only drawback (I’m being sarcastic)- I have to occasionally dodge fruit falling from the monkeys high atop the trees. It’s breath taking. Tomorrow I’m visiting the gorillas. Seriously, how is this my life??

But I’m not the King of Africa (I’m looking forward to my rustic living in the bush).  Instead, I’m the Great Gatsby of Africa. Doesn't matter how much you have, if you have no one to share it with. I’m lucky I have an adventure but it’s almost a waste on me. I’d be happy just eating an ice cream cone with good friends.

A little while later… I need a take back. I forgot I live in a dangerous place. It’s late at night and I’m in a lodge separated from the rest of the camp.  It sounded like someone just tried to push open my window! Going to say a prayer and sleep with pepper spray in my hand tonight.  Living the dream?!...

….and a little while later. I might be crazy but I get over fear very quickly. I even tried to walk outside into the black forest to pick up the internet connection on my computer. I basically walked into the forest full of exotic animals and bugs with a flashlight and my computer, aka a signal for everything to come and check me out. I sat down and I was overwhelmed with animal and bug noises. I immediately stood up said “WTF!” and walked quickly back inside.  Inside my room there was a wasp with huge mandibles that was 3x normal American size. It might have well been a flying shark! Over all I would DEFINITELY recommend this place. I think as it is now $600 is reasonable.

In case you don’t know how this international traveling bug bit me- When I was graduating from undergrad I was encouraged to apply to Peace Corps. During the interview I asked two questions-

“I heard a rumor that Peace Corps volunteers spend two years in their host country. That’s not true right?”

The interviewer responded, “haha, you’re kidding right? It’s 27 months!”

“I thought so.” I replied. “I meant it was more than two years.” (I really thought it was 6 months). I continued. “I have a second question. I also heard Peace Corps Volunteers live alone. THIS can’t be true, right?!”

The Peace Corps interviewer didn't laugh this time. She cocked her head and said, “Did you not read anything before you came into this interview?!”

Luckily, I recovered. I didn't know any of this because I didn't really think I was going to join AND if I did join an international organization I thought it would be the Jesuit Volunteers (six months to a year living with other volunteers). Luckily I missed that Jesuit application by a single day and I was accepted into Peace Corps. I had the time of my life!

5/31

Visiting the Gorillas

Woke up to a slight earthquake today. I went back to bed for a few minutes and I was awakened again but this time it was monkeys hanging out on the roof of my lodge.

I spent the day typing my notes from interviews and sending emails.

I did make time to go on a hike through the forest, conduct an interview, and visit the orphaned mountain gorillas that are housed here.  War and poverty have inflicted collateral damage on the Mountain Gorilla population.  In the heart of the park, they have built Senkwekwe Centre, where they care for the orphans. 

 http://www.visitvirunga.org/gorillas/

6/2

On the Road Again

I loved my time here at Mikeno Lodge, but I really want to get to my site to start working.  So, tomorrow I'm leaving for Goma.  I don't have a hotel reservation, a flight to Beni, nothing.  Best case scenario, I secure a flight for Beni tomorrow.  Worst case scenario, i wait in a hotel in Goma for a few days while I try to hammer out the details.