I didn't actually see the clowns...

Hat tip to Texasinafrica again for pointing out this BBC article. Now, that's an interesting idea...the whole issue of how to actually help people rebuild their lives is a complicated one. Does throwing (oh sorry, I meant to refer to budgetary support...) money really work? building houses? distributing food? or medicines? or tools? ...or sending clowns around to the IDP camps (they're not refugees outside of their own country) surrounding Goma?

I honestly don't know what does work, especially in the incredibly complicated and many-layered, conflict-driven humanitarian crisis situation which is Eastern Congo. Maybe that makes it sound worse than it is...or maybe it really is that bad.

We drove past those 7 IDP camps on our way to Minova this afternoon, just about 60km south west of Goma, where many people have fled over the past few years to escape the fighting and looting of various militias and militaries. This area is one of the most militarized around, and the presence of various uniformed and armed men testifies to this fact. Just outside our residence compound a group of FARDC soldiers and their families are camped out (apparently waiting for deployment orders); on the 60km route from Goma to Minova (a much better drive than the Bukavu-Kavumu route, even if Kavumu airport is only 35km from Bukavu!) we pass Mai Mai soldiers, FARDC, and if you continue to where we are reahabilitating a mountain road, FDLR and even more militias are visible. It's not so interesting to drive up to a Mai mai blockade, slowing down so the strangely dressed (they are a bit crazy I think) soldiers can see who is in the vehicle. I was happy to be with our Infrastructure coordinator who always knows someone important enough to get him out of almost any situation!

People have fled to Minova from the surrounding hills of Masisi territory from the FDLR (Rwandan militia) who continue to terrorize villagers and their crops and livestock. FH and other NGOs have been working to intervene and bring much needed assistance to the displaced as well as the communities who have welcomed them. The IDP camps that pop up on the side of the hills bring vulnerable people together without clean water sources, latrines, sources of food or economic exchange, forcing them to depend on the various humanitarian actors. It's certainly not an easy or enviable life, but one that many are surviving (and hopefully a bit better as a result of the clowns' entertainment...) through sheer will and definitely God's grace.

Tomorrow my colleagues and I will participate in a ceremony to handover to the local authorities the road we built so they can hand it back to the local maintenance committees which will keep it from going to pot too quickly (torrential rains and landslides as well as tons (literally 1000s of lbs) of cows wandering up and down through the hills makes for a quickly deteriorating road!). More on the potential success of the ceremony later! (and pictures!)

It's the little things

You know, it's really the little things that end up making life life and making it worthwhile. Sure we get excited for big events in our lives -- weddings, births, graduations, vacations, but it's the in-between that makes up the actual life we live. The things I've been excited about lately are the beautiful sunshine that comes through my office window in the morning, the way the thunderstorms roll in almost every afternoon, my great little speaker system (which normally provides music in Renee's shop) that is right now in my living room and making Battlestar Galactica episodes and any music more enjoyable , long lunch conversations with dear friends (especially the mutually edifying kind), the way God's joy fills my heart despite the suffering that surrounds and the stress that threatens...these are all small things. Or maybe they're not.

I was thinking about David's Psalm 23 and the way the Good Shepherd guides us. If we are sheep like Jesus always says, then our lives are meant to be like the lives of sheep: following the One who leads us through green pastures, beside quiet waters, our souls being restored. It's not "everyday" that a sheep might get lost, almost fall off of a cliff, get eaten by wolves. Not to say that it doesn't happen, but a sheep's everyday life is meant to be peaceful and spent with the Shepherd that loves him. Despite the chaos that surrounds, the destruction and turbulence that the Prince of this earth loves, Jesus leads us in peace, and we don't need to worry.

That's not to say that there won't be trouble in our lives, and Jesus assured us that in following Him, the world would set itself against us. But--and it's a big but--Jesus gives us His Spirit to make up for our weakness and the craziness of this world. So the everyday things -- eating, drinking (and especially spiritually), working, talking...and following the Shepherd, doing these in the name of Jesus is what the Christian life is about. For who can be trusted with big thing who cannot be trusted with small ones? So let's be the sheep we are called to be and do justly, love mercy, and walk humbly with our God. All the little things will add up to make a life worth living for the One who created us.

Today is International Women's day!

Yes, that's right, you may not be aware, but 8 March is the day women are celebrated all over the world. Here in Bukavu, we celebrated women yesterday, and just about all the women in town turned out for a parade down the main street down to where the governor sat watching everyone. The normal practice is for each organization or company or group of women to buy the same fabric and get an outfit made. So, of course we at FHI did just that, and it was really a big hit! Kristee, Renee, and I had nicely tailored, somewhat fancy outfits, so of course all the Congolese loved it. We essentially marched twice since we walked in the parade and then back through pretty much the whole town back to the shop. I think we got back to the shop (Renee's Rendez-vous Coffee Shop) after 1pm to eat lunch, and since we got outside to the parade just after 9am, it made for a long day out in the sun! All three of us FHI wazungu got pretty bad sunburns! (more coming, but after I sleep a bit :) )

You'll want to look at this

I found this collection of portraits from NE Congo on one of the blogs I follow (hat tip to Texas in Africa for the link). The thing that amazes me is the differences between the way the people in the pictures are just barely holding onto their lives, being chased from their homes by armed groups and general insecurity, and the way many Congolese and expats live here in Bukavu. There has been hardly any change in security here in Bukavu (though we never could walk around at night or anything like that). The poverty too, while quite evident, is less acute and less obvious in some ways. We don't live up in the hills in the slums with the majority of the population, so sometimes it's hard to remember all that people go through just to make it through a day.
Just some initial thoughts...comments and questions welcome.

Update: yesterday was apparently the National Day of Humiliation, Fasting and Prayer in 1863...wonder what it would be like if such a thing could still be valid in the US and other countries.

And then there were two...

We used to have three kittens. Black, grey, and blond. All boys, all feisty, and all nursed from the close-to-death state we found them in to health by Kristee. A few weeks ago, Kristee had to go down to Kalemie to help work out some finance issues with our projects in N Katanga. Joel and I were happy to take care of the babies (as we call them) while she was gone. It ended up being a catastrophe. Not the fact that Joel and I were caring for the cats, but the bad luck we had was sadly fatal. About half way through Kristee’s time down south, her favorite kitten, the grey one called Quinton, jumped out of Joel’s arms from about four feet up. He struggled, wobbling into the box where they sleep, not putting any weight on his back left leg. Joel and I weren’t sure how we would tell Kristee the news about her favorite kitty…but it got worse. The next morning, the landcruiser wouldn’t start, so we had to push it back and forth to try and jump it. We were still taking the cats back and forth to the office everyday to make sure they got enough food, so we had them in closed up in their box while we worked on the car with the guards. After finally giving up on Mobile 3 (“mobile trois”), we went inside for a few minutes to wait for another car. We also have two guard dogs at the house, one of which is really pretty wild. Though we had closed up the cats well in the box, the mean dog, Buddy, came and knocked it over. The one cat that still had all four good legs, Simba (aka Blondie or Muzungu) ended up outside the box and at the mercy of the crazy dog. Now we really didn’t know what to tell Kristee about her precious babies—ahem, I mean, kittens. Joel buried Simba outside the compound with a moment of silence—and the disturbing sinking feeling of imagining how we’d break the news to Kristee who still had a week left in Kalemie. She ended up taking the news ok, though the tears were many. Though I know cats are not people, and people die all the time, I found myself quite saddened by the fate of little Simba, or Blondie, as I liked to call him. In a very minute way, it brings into perspective the realities of life and death. It’s easy to get attached to things—people and animals especially. And sometimes it’s only after they’re gone that we realize the strength of the attachment. As I am typing this post, the remaining two are asleep lounging in the crook of my left arm, content with their full bellies.

The way the rain comes

Standing out on our balcony this morning, I got to watch a rain storm arrive. Literally, it came from Rwanda, a massive wave of water rushing across the lake. I was inside making some Amazon purchases when I noticed that the sunny morning had suddenly become dark. With a glance outside, I grabbed my camera and ran out to the balcony. The sky had turned grey and dark blue clouds were approaching from the NE (i.e. Rwanda). At first the islands across the water were visible against the horizon, but after a few minutes of gathering winds and choppy waves, the wave of water had obscured their green outline.

Pretty soon rain was cascading diagonally to water the earth. Sometimes almost hurricane force winds blow huge walls of water sideways through the town. The streets empty and cars pull off the road as everyone waits out the storm. Those kind of rains don’t usually last very long, and are often accompanied with huge claps of thunder and lightning, taking out internet and tv satellite capacities with them.

It’s amazing to see the forces of nature in action, and especially with such quick and forceful change. I’m almost positive that it will be sunny and warm in a few hours, even though it seems like it could stay drizzly all afternoon.

People don’t really like to go anywhere when it’s raining or has rained, because for the most part, they walk to their destination. Degenerated dirt roads make it hard to stay clean until your destination after rain water has turned them into mud! Being clean and well dressed, and especially having clean shoes, is something very important to people in Bukavu, and Congo in general. Appearances are what count at first glance, and muzungus get funny looks at the dirty used tennis shoes and dilapidated flip-flops they wear outside the house. It’s pretty funny, really. Michael was talking one time about how he had to make sure and keep his running shoes away so that they wouldn’t get washed with soap and water every day!