A quick look at Musanze: our house and garden in the morning.
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
Sunday, June 20, 2010
My New Hometown
I finally had time this weekend to check out my new "hometown", Musanze. It recently changed its name from Ruhengeri, and it is famous as the base-camp for tourists who want to venture out and see the Mountain Gorillas. Several expensive hotels line up along the main street (which is paved, but still very dusty and noisy), and then a grid system spans out into the residential areas.
I live and work on Avenue de Cooperation, which has nice villas on both sides, gated and guarded, and circled by wonderful gardens each. Our residence, pretty like most other houses here, is built just on the ground floor, with two main aisles divided into several rooms, plus a huge kitchen and a lovely dining room. As far as I can tell, we are four people living there 'full time' (an American, Joel, and two Rwandan girls, Bernadette and Mireille). Then there's also Sandy, from Britain, who splits her time between Musanze and Congo. Our staff is made up of one (or two?) guards and a maid/cook, Fais, who is spoiling us with delicacies every day (among the dishes we had this week: French potatoes in the oven, several kinds of veggie pies, fish and chicken, rice, salads, pound cake, pizza, pasta with tuna sauce, fruit salads). Needless to say, I gulp down every day as if there's no tomorrow (ironically enough, I will probably end up putting on weight in Africa, after staying slim all those years in the US...) The only thing I miss at our place is beer (I pretty much shocked Fais when I asked how I could have a beer case delivered at home. She came up with an aid, Baptiste, who will take care of this tomorrow). In turn, I was quite shocked the other night when I found out that we also have a shed in the garden, which is full of... gorilla skeletons (we have some American researchers who just showed up in order to study the bones throughout the summer). So yes, pretty serious stuff going around!
Back to food, though: service is slooooow everywhere (I hang out quite a bit in hotel lobbies and at the Volcana Lounge to see football games). Any dish takes way over an hour to be prepared and delivered (the ultimate frustrating experience was in Butembo, Congo, where we had to wait for almost 80 minutes to get our coffee, and about two hours for our omelets and Croque Madame)... Oh well, the idea is to never go to a restaurant when you're really hungry, but to time it well in advance.
I also visited the market (Joel, who has been here some seven months, could only remember where the clothes market was, so I still have to find the veggie one this week). I wanted to buy a bed-side lamp (in my room, the switch for the main lamp is next to the door, which is at the very opposite side of my bed - it gets all the more complicated when you have to come back to bed in the dark, and find your way in through the mosquito net). Anyhow, they had these battery-powered lamps, and some other type which you would have to plug directly (not through an extension cord?!), so I gave up. Half-of-the-market was filled with itinerant tailors, who set up their sewing machines quite randomly, all over the place.
After half-an-hour on the main street (again, I need to stress that it IS paved, unlike all dirt streets I saw in Congo), I almost couldn't breathe anymore from so much dust everywhere. There is this constant flux of people (Rwanda is one of the most densely-populated countries in the world, with 380 people/sq km), and they all seem to drag and push and carry stuff back-and-forth at all times. Of course I am followed everywhere by a cortege of kids, who can only say "Good morning" in English, regardless of the time of the day. There is a new state policy here, though, that is looking to replace French with English as the main non-native language in the country. At the same time, I am trying to start learning some Swahili (not very popular here, but probably the best language to know in Africa overall. And quite simple, according to all accounts...)
As for my job - I am putting together a plan these days, on what stories, pictures and videos I will start producing, once my work and park permits are issued (in order to be able to go up into the Volcanoes National Park.) So yes, I am really settling in here (no problems whatsoever so far).
The only big change: I don't like the Italians anymore (they really have a pathetic squad this year...) So let's keep going beautiful Messi and Argentina! :-)
I live and work on Avenue de Cooperation, which has nice villas on both sides, gated and guarded, and circled by wonderful gardens each. Our residence, pretty like most other houses here, is built just on the ground floor, with two main aisles divided into several rooms, plus a huge kitchen and a lovely dining room. As far as I can tell, we are four people living there 'full time' (an American, Joel, and two Rwandan girls, Bernadette and Mireille). Then there's also Sandy, from Britain, who splits her time between Musanze and Congo. Our staff is made up of one (or two?) guards and a maid/cook, Fais, who is spoiling us with delicacies every day (among the dishes we had this week: French potatoes in the oven, several kinds of veggie pies, fish and chicken, rice, salads, pound cake, pizza, pasta with tuna sauce, fruit salads). Needless to say, I gulp down every day as if there's no tomorrow (ironically enough, I will probably end up putting on weight in Africa, after staying slim all those years in the US...) The only thing I miss at our place is beer (I pretty much shocked Fais when I asked how I could have a beer case delivered at home. She came up with an aid, Baptiste, who will take care of this tomorrow). In turn, I was quite shocked the other night when I found out that we also have a shed in the garden, which is full of... gorilla skeletons (we have some American researchers who just showed up in order to study the bones throughout the summer). So yes, pretty serious stuff going around!
Back to food, though: service is slooooow everywhere (I hang out quite a bit in hotel lobbies and at the Volcana Lounge to see football games). Any dish takes way over an hour to be prepared and delivered (the ultimate frustrating experience was in Butembo, Congo, where we had to wait for almost 80 minutes to get our coffee, and about two hours for our omelets and Croque Madame)... Oh well, the idea is to never go to a restaurant when you're really hungry, but to time it well in advance.
I also visited the market (Joel, who has been here some seven months, could only remember where the clothes market was, so I still have to find the veggie one this week). I wanted to buy a bed-side lamp (in my room, the switch for the main lamp is next to the door, which is at the very opposite side of my bed - it gets all the more complicated when you have to come back to bed in the dark, and find your way in through the mosquito net). Anyhow, they had these battery-powered lamps, and some other type which you would have to plug directly (not through an extension cord?!), so I gave up. Half-of-the-market was filled with itinerant tailors, who set up their sewing machines quite randomly, all over the place.
After half-an-hour on the main street (again, I need to stress that it IS paved, unlike all dirt streets I saw in Congo), I almost couldn't breathe anymore from so much dust everywhere. There is this constant flux of people (Rwanda is one of the most densely-populated countries in the world, with 380 people/sq km), and they all seem to drag and push and carry stuff back-and-forth at all times. Of course I am followed everywhere by a cortege of kids, who can only say "Good morning" in English, regardless of the time of the day. There is a new state policy here, though, that is looking to replace French with English as the main non-native language in the country. At the same time, I am trying to start learning some Swahili (not very popular here, but probably the best language to know in Africa overall. And quite simple, according to all accounts...)
As for my job - I am putting together a plan these days, on what stories, pictures and videos I will start producing, once my work and park permits are issued (in order to be able to go up into the Volcanoes National Park.) So yes, I am really settling in here (no problems whatsoever so far).
The only big change: I don't like the Italians anymore (they really have a pathetic squad this year...) So let's keep going beautiful Messi and Argentina! :-)
Thursday, June 17, 2010
Logistics
I do come from a country where we looove stamps and signatures in order to make anything look official, but the DRC is certainly many steps ahead of us. My two-way plane ticket Goma-Butembo-Goma (made out to MR. Sinziana Demian) has four receipts attached to it ($10 go-passes and some redevances) and seven stamps and signatures - for each, of course, I had to go to a different office and stand in another line. Add to that six more stamps on the accompanying Ordre de Mission A4 paper (you cannot travel anywhere without such a document), and I do feel incredibly important (or, alternatively, very suspicious and closely scrutinized) - considering, of course, that these were 'just' 45-minute internal flights.
Landing at Goma was very testing also for a different reason: the moment we set foot on the airstrip, we were literally attacked by some 15 guys, who work for the "Association des Bagagistes". They all wanted to be our porters, although our luggage would be officially taken to the baggage claim area by some other guys. It was quite a challenge to walk up those 20-30 meters to the airport building, since they were quite like vultures fighting over their pray. I did lose my temper a bit (I admit, they were quite scary), and I shouted from the top of my lungs in French, which took them somehow by surprise, especially as they wanted to snatch our tickets and compare the bag tag numbers against the pile of luggage. Luckily our guy from the Goma office, Jackson, came to our rescue, but he did have to dish some $10 for them to share (even if they hadn't really done anything more than fight amongst themselves). Money had to change many hands until some other guy was finally convinced to lift the barrier and let us go.
Trouble would not end there, though: I was, for the first time in my life, denied a border crossing. There was some misunderstanding with my papers between the central immigration office in Kigali and the border point "La Corniche", so after lots of discussions with different officials (I didn't try bribing), I decided I would wait another day in Congo. Goma is right at the border, and DFGFI actually has this amazing house at the lake, so I took it easy and spent a relaxing night there. My papers were cleared first thing the next morning, so I could cross into Rwanda again (after having to fill in a new pile of documents). My new single-entry visa was another $60 (the second time in two weeks we had to pay that amount). Add to that $500 for the Congolese entry visa and work permit, plus a few more hundreds $$$ coming up for a similar Rwandan permit, and the bureaucracy is anything but cheap here.
Landing at Goma was very testing also for a different reason: the moment we set foot on the airstrip, we were literally attacked by some 15 guys, who work for the "Association des Bagagistes". They all wanted to be our porters, although our luggage would be officially taken to the baggage claim area by some other guys. It was quite a challenge to walk up those 20-30 meters to the airport building, since they were quite like vultures fighting over their pray. I did lose my temper a bit (I admit, they were quite scary), and I shouted from the top of my lungs in French, which took them somehow by surprise, especially as they wanted to snatch our tickets and compare the bag tag numbers against the pile of luggage. Luckily our guy from the Goma office, Jackson, came to our rescue, but he did have to dish some $10 for them to share (even if they hadn't really done anything more than fight amongst themselves). Money had to change many hands until some other guy was finally convinced to lift the barrier and let us go.
Trouble would not end there, though: I was, for the first time in my life, denied a border crossing. There was some misunderstanding with my papers between the central immigration office in Kigali and the border point "La Corniche", so after lots of discussions with different officials (I didn't try bribing), I decided I would wait another day in Congo. Goma is right at the border, and DFGFI actually has this amazing house at the lake, so I took it easy and spent a relaxing night there. My papers were cleared first thing the next morning, so I could cross into Rwanda again (after having to fill in a new pile of documents). My new single-entry visa was another $60 (the second time in two weeks we had to pay that amount). Add to that $500 for the Congolese entry visa and work permit, plus a few more hundreds $$$ coming up for a similar Rwandan permit, and the bureaucracy is anything but cheap here.
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
Heart of Darkness
We have been stationed in Kasugho (or rather Katoyu – a village next to Kasugho) for the past five days, covering what’s going on at GRACE rehabilitation center: they have here confiscated baby gorillas, whom they are hoping they will some day release back into the wild, as a group. At the beginning we were allowed only one hour a day in the forest, together with the caregivers – who act exactly like mother gorillas for the vulnerable infants – and we had to keep a 7-meter distance, in order not to get them to used to humans (so that in the future they would not just walk up to poachers…) After a couple of days though they got used to us quite a lot, and the male of the group – Kyoma , the future silverback – would come to us and check us out very closely, so then we would get much more time around them.
The forest is AMAZING. I cannot believe my daily routine now consists of walks up there – so green, so lush, so vibrant. It rains quite a bit every afternoon, so the roads get all washed down, and walking is quite difficult, but it is all the more fulfilling when you’ve finally reached your destination. Otherwise, the schedule is quite basic: waking up at 5 or 6 a.m. cram in as much as possible until lunchtime, sit tight for the rain, do some more stuff until 5.30ish, have an early dinner as it’s getting dark around 6.15, go to bed soon after 8. Food here is mostly potatoes, rice and some meat (very chewy, I gave up on it), and the avocado/guacamole bonus, as we have a huge avocado tree in the back yard.
The film crew have behaved quite well – it’s just that they are SOOO loud and annoying at times. Granted, so is the Australian woman who is in charge of this place for another week, and the American wife of the director. When you would just want to take it easy and enjoy the view and the quiet, they just keep on babbling, LOUDLY, so I took off quite a few times to just get some time on my own and enjoy this thoroughly.
The African World Cup also started a couple of days ago. We knew that right away, when we were up in the forest and heard this loud roar – South Africa had scored :-) I watched my first game the following day (Argentina-Nigeria) in the auditorium at the university (there are students from all over Congo, who have come to study conservation here). Needless to say everyone was rooting for the black team, calling me “mzungu” (“the white”) in the process. Of course I would get all excited about Messi’s amazing play and passes, and they would all shush me angrily – but friendly. They took most issue with Maradona – the moment he was on TV, they would all make faces and laugh at him. Luckily Argentina won. Africa would get its first victory the day after, when Ghana scored a late penalty against Serbia. I was not in the TV room at the time, but I knew exactly what was happening, by the loud cheers next door.
We have also visited the local school - Muysa – and saw the children scribble in the dirt outside (notebooks are a very rare commodity here). They blew me off when they sang the gorilla song, with so much energy and dedication. Otherwise, locals are just excited that they get a mzungu who speaks French with them – so I have been asked several times to move here and teach them English, through French. Maybe my next job?!
I am now writing from Butembo, from a fancy hotel with a beautiful courtyard (they are charging me $5 for using the internet half-an-hour)then traveling back to Rwanda (if I can get in - as of now, I don't have a new single-entry visa, so I might have to be in Goma for a while)...
The forest is AMAZING. I cannot believe my daily routine now consists of walks up there – so green, so lush, so vibrant. It rains quite a bit every afternoon, so the roads get all washed down, and walking is quite difficult, but it is all the more fulfilling when you’ve finally reached your destination. Otherwise, the schedule is quite basic: waking up at 5 or 6 a.m. cram in as much as possible until lunchtime, sit tight for the rain, do some more stuff until 5.30ish, have an early dinner as it’s getting dark around 6.15, go to bed soon after 8. Food here is mostly potatoes, rice and some meat (very chewy, I gave up on it), and the avocado/guacamole bonus, as we have a huge avocado tree in the back yard.
The film crew have behaved quite well – it’s just that they are SOOO loud and annoying at times. Granted, so is the Australian woman who is in charge of this place for another week, and the American wife of the director. When you would just want to take it easy and enjoy the view and the quiet, they just keep on babbling, LOUDLY, so I took off quite a few times to just get some time on my own and enjoy this thoroughly.
The African World Cup also started a couple of days ago. We knew that right away, when we were up in the forest and heard this loud roar – South Africa had scored :-) I watched my first game the following day (Argentina-Nigeria) in the auditorium at the university (there are students from all over Congo, who have come to study conservation here). Needless to say everyone was rooting for the black team, calling me “mzungu” (“the white”) in the process. Of course I would get all excited about Messi’s amazing play and passes, and they would all shush me angrily – but friendly. They took most issue with Maradona – the moment he was on TV, they would all make faces and laugh at him. Luckily Argentina won. Africa would get its first victory the day after, when Ghana scored a late penalty against Serbia. I was not in the TV room at the time, but I knew exactly what was happening, by the loud cheers next door.
We have also visited the local school - Muysa – and saw the children scribble in the dirt outside (notebooks are a very rare commodity here). They blew me off when they sang the gorilla song, with so much energy and dedication. Otherwise, locals are just excited that they get a mzungu who speaks French with them – so I have been asked several times to move here and teach them English, through French. Maybe my next job?!
I am now writing from Butembo, from a fancy hotel with a beautiful courtyard (they are charging me $5 for using the internet half-an-hour)then traveling back to Rwanda (if I can get in - as of now, I don't have a new single-entry visa, so I might have to be in Goma for a while)...
Friday, June 11, 2010
Congo
As if I didn’t have enough excitement during the first week in Africa, here was Congo on the schedule. We started driving to Goma around 9 a.m., with two vehicles and some 10 people. After passing through beautiful tea plantations, we finally spotted Lake Kivu, on the Rwandan side. The border crossing was something out of a movie – apparently President Kabila was visiting around, so there were guys armed-to-the-teeth roaming everywhere. They also took their time to stamp our passports – I got a seven-day-visa at the La Corniche (wondering how many other Romanians had traveled through that border check-point?!) The way it works is that you pick up only your hand-luggage and cross on foot, while cars take another “lane” and wait you on the other side.
First glimpses of Goma were true to all the stories I had heard of this place: MAD!!! Dirt, bumpy roads, chaotic traffic, would-be-construction everywhere, where the lava river destroyed the city some five years ago. Rhett, Greg and I absolutely wanted to change some $$ into Congolese Francs – apparently we were the only suckers to do so. We went to a bank, but they wouldn’t take the brand new bills (I actually had some Euros, which they wouldn’t accept out-of-principle). Of course some guy showed up out-of-nowhere with stashes of 500-Franc bills, which we thought would last quite long. Wrong again. The first supermarket we entered was quit THE surprise: all prices were listed in FF, which I thought was the local currency, only to find out at the cashier’s desk that they were actually meant in $$. We ended up spending some $85 on some pasta supplies, some crackers, cheese and a bottle of olive oil… (in the next store I refrained from buying tampons at $13 a pack….) Needless to say that everyone was downright paying with American bills (and receiving change the same way), so my nice stash of Congolese Francs disappeared even before I had a chance to take a proper look at the bills…Just in the store area I also had the misfortune of first-in-my-life seeing a person with her nose cut off… I had heard these stories over-and-over again, but I had never quite pictured it: a huge, deep hole in the head, almost inviting to look up into the person’s brains… AWFUL!!!
Luckily DFGFI has this amazing property – “The Lake House” as it is know by, with a wonderful garden down to the water. We spent a few hours there, until Juan Carlos (my boss) arrived from Kigali. We had a couple of interviews scheduled and then went off to dinner downtown – Chez Doga (I think?!), where we had to wait for almost two hours to get some pizzas and some crepes (dishes on the menu were about $15 a piece). As it is getting pitch dark by 6.15, dinner at 8 felt like dinner past midnight.
The next morning we would wake up at 5, in order to catch an 8-o’clock flight to Butembo on the TMK airline. We were five in total (including Frans from Holland), so we spread the luggage weight evenly and only had to pay some $120 extra weight (the camera crew tok that, as they had massive equipment with them). Our tickets an passports and Ordre de Mission had to be carefully examined and stamped by several people (some were very excited to see a Romanian passport and mentioned Ceausescu – I was thinking how it must have been back in the day, with his friendship with Mobuto…) In the middle of the waiting room there was a strip which they were actually digging up with shovels (as if they were going to plant something!), but I refrained from taking pictures, as those armed Congolese everywhere looked anything but friendly.
We boarded this Tupolev plane (the smallest I had ever been in) and off we went, over spewing volcano and jungle land. Quite AMAZING to think that I w actually flying over Congo (!) like that. An hour later we had arrived in Butembo, where two safari cars were waiting for us. Boarding and leaving took forever (with the same line “just five more minutes”), as they were trying to fill them to capacity for the long, expensive journey we would have ahead: anywhere between 4-6 hours through the forest, up to Kasugho. We finally left around noon, and then jumped around in those seats the whole afternoon. The views were fantastic though, so I just sat there, speechless, taking it all in (alongside all the dust). We made it up after 4, to the beautiful GRACE center (which is managed by DFGFI, on extensive lands donated by Congolese mwamis – tribal leaders). It is all meant to accommodate confiscated gorillas for the next God-knows-how-many-years, until they can be released into the wild again. We quickly visited the construction site (which is currently led by two Australians and two New Yorkers) and then sat stunned by the incredible sunset. Food came along (very nice fries, veggies, pineapple empanadas, and some hard-and-impossible-to-cut meat). I was rooming with Sandy, so after some quick showers (hot water is delivered in buckets at the door), I took to the mission to prepare the mosquito nets (making holes in the cardboard ceilings, etc.) We collapsed at 9 p.m., after a LOOONG, but again amazing day.
First glimpses of Goma were true to all the stories I had heard of this place: MAD!!! Dirt, bumpy roads, chaotic traffic, would-be-construction everywhere, where the lava river destroyed the city some five years ago. Rhett, Greg and I absolutely wanted to change some $$ into Congolese Francs – apparently we were the only suckers to do so. We went to a bank, but they wouldn’t take the brand new bills (I actually had some Euros, which they wouldn’t accept out-of-principle). Of course some guy showed up out-of-nowhere with stashes of 500-Franc bills, which we thought would last quite long. Wrong again. The first supermarket we entered was quit THE surprise: all prices were listed in FF, which I thought was the local currency, only to find out at the cashier’s desk that they were actually meant in $$. We ended up spending some $85 on some pasta supplies, some crackers, cheese and a bottle of olive oil… (in the next store I refrained from buying tampons at $13 a pack….) Needless to say that everyone was downright paying with American bills (and receiving change the same way), so my nice stash of Congolese Francs disappeared even before I had a chance to take a proper look at the bills…Just in the store area I also had the misfortune of first-in-my-life seeing a person with her nose cut off… I had heard these stories over-and-over again, but I had never quite pictured it: a huge, deep hole in the head, almost inviting to look up into the person’s brains… AWFUL!!!
Luckily DFGFI has this amazing property – “The Lake House” as it is know by, with a wonderful garden down to the water. We spent a few hours there, until Juan Carlos (my boss) arrived from Kigali. We had a couple of interviews scheduled and then went off to dinner downtown – Chez Doga (I think?!), where we had to wait for almost two hours to get some pizzas and some crepes (dishes on the menu were about $15 a piece). As it is getting pitch dark by 6.15, dinner at 8 felt like dinner past midnight.
The next morning we would wake up at 5, in order to catch an 8-o’clock flight to Butembo on the TMK airline. We were five in total (including Frans from Holland), so we spread the luggage weight evenly and only had to pay some $120 extra weight (the camera crew tok that, as they had massive equipment with them). Our tickets an passports and Ordre de Mission had to be carefully examined and stamped by several people (some were very excited to see a Romanian passport and mentioned Ceausescu – I was thinking how it must have been back in the day, with his friendship with Mobuto…) In the middle of the waiting room there was a strip which they were actually digging up with shovels (as if they were going to plant something!), but I refrained from taking pictures, as those armed Congolese everywhere looked anything but friendly.
We boarded this Tupolev plane (the smallest I had ever been in) and off we went, over spewing volcano and jungle land. Quite AMAZING to think that I w actually flying over Congo (!) like that. An hour later we had arrived in Butembo, where two safari cars were waiting for us. Boarding and leaving took forever (with the same line “just five more minutes”), as they were trying to fill them to capacity for the long, expensive journey we would have ahead: anywhere between 4-6 hours through the forest, up to Kasugho. We finally left around noon, and then jumped around in those seats the whole afternoon. The views were fantastic though, so I just sat there, speechless, taking it all in (alongside all the dust). We made it up after 4, to the beautiful GRACE center (which is managed by DFGFI, on extensive lands donated by Congolese mwamis – tribal leaders). It is all meant to accommodate confiscated gorillas for the next God-knows-how-many-years, until they can be released into the wild again. We quickly visited the construction site (which is currently led by two Australians and two New Yorkers) and then sat stunned by the incredible sunset. Food came along (very nice fries, veggies, pineapple empanadas, and some hard-and-impossible-to-cut meat). I was rooming with Sandy, so after some quick showers (hot water is delivered in buckets at the door), I took to the mission to prepare the mosquito nets (making holes in the cardboard ceilings, etc.) We collapsed at 9 p.m., after a LOOONG, but again amazing day.
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
Out in the Field
After my one-day rest, the real work-week began: I would spend it out in the field with a film crew, who came here to shoot a documentary about the mountain gorillas. I should mention that the cameraman is Ted Turner’s son (yes, THE Ted Turner), so the expectations were quite high all-around. Here I was, brand new to this organization, all of a sudden “in charge” of these people – who, in all honesty, didn’t really know what they were doing-doing either (i.e. not sure exactly what to focus on).
So here we were, Monday morning in Kinigi, the facility for the captive mountain and Grauer’s gorillas. They are held behind a big fence, and we were not allowed in as we had not yet cleared the quarantine period. So we would go atop on of those big safari vehicles and shoot from there. My mind was constantly running between the journalist in me (I would have loved to conduct some interviews and get some footage with that EXTREMELY expensive and fancy equipment) and the PR-ish person in me (who was actually supposed to coordinate everything from the other side – logos, pertinent interviews, etc.)
We spent most of our Monday and Tuesday morning there, and gradually I and they also caught onto the job better. We interviewed people at the Mountain Gorilla Veterinary Project as well (they arebased in Musanze, just down the street from us), and then went up to the Bisate clinic (which serves 32 villages and some 20,000 people) to see how they deal with controlling diseases going between humans and wild animals.
There has been excitement all around, of course. On our first day, following a CRAZY storm, a flood of water was gushing down from the mountain, basically ruining a good part of this brand new road. We also happened a few minutes after a horrible accident, where a Burundi car had slammed into a house, destroying half of it in the blow. A day later our driver killed a baby goat. I decided I would never leave the office anymore. The streets are just TOO dangerous, and FULL of thousands of people just running around at l times.
We also had a different kind of experience: the driver took us to a “nice” lunch place – one of those super fancy lodges, where millionaires come and stay before trekking gorillas (if I didn’t mention it already, a tourist permit for a day is $500…) Lunch was indeed a very good buffet (I chose tons of avocado dishes and spinach), but the bill came to almost $100 for three people (we were there maybe for half-an-hour). Of course Rhett Turner paid, but it did indeed feel as almost a shameful waste, thinking of where we were and that we had just killed a family’s goat on the road…
So here we were, Monday morning in Kinigi, the facility for the captive mountain and Grauer’s gorillas. They are held behind a big fence, and we were not allowed in as we had not yet cleared the quarantine period. So we would go atop on of those big safari vehicles and shoot from there. My mind was constantly running between the journalist in me (I would have loved to conduct some interviews and get some footage with that EXTREMELY expensive and fancy equipment) and the PR-ish person in me (who was actually supposed to coordinate everything from the other side – logos, pertinent interviews, etc.)
We spent most of our Monday and Tuesday morning there, and gradually I and they also caught onto the job better. We interviewed people at the Mountain Gorilla Veterinary Project as well (they arebased in Musanze, just down the street from us), and then went up to the Bisate clinic (which serves 32 villages and some 20,000 people) to see how they deal with controlling diseases going between humans and wild animals.
There has been excitement all around, of course. On our first day, following a CRAZY storm, a flood of water was gushing down from the mountain, basically ruining a good part of this brand new road. We also happened a few minutes after a horrible accident, where a Burundi car had slammed into a house, destroying half of it in the blow. A day later our driver killed a baby goat. I decided I would never leave the office anymore. The streets are just TOO dangerous, and FULL of thousands of people just running around at l times.
We also had a different kind of experience: the driver took us to a “nice” lunch place – one of those super fancy lodges, where millionaires come and stay before trekking gorillas (if I didn’t mention it already, a tourist permit for a day is $500…) Lunch was indeed a very good buffet (I chose tons of avocado dishes and spinach), but the bill came to almost $100 for three people (we were there maybe for half-an-hour). Of course Rhett Turner paid, but it did indeed feel as almost a shameful waste, thinking of where we were and that we had just killed a family’s goat on the road…
Sunday, June 6, 2010
Sunday in the Office
I finally had a looong 12-hour sleep, precipitated by a mighty tropical rain outside. Quite romantic, actually. It also made me decide against going to the newest local bar (Volcanica) to meet up with friends and colleagues.
Although it was a weekend, I would use every minute of it to familiarize myself with the house and the research center (which is just across the street and has a great wireless connection). So, after unpacking, I did what I haven't done probably ever: go to the office on a Sunday! Quite nice actually... I am sitting in the lounge at the entrance, surrounded by gorilla photos (I already have a hard time learning people's names, I think it will be quite a challenge to learn to differentiate the animals). So far I have only met the two dogs and one cat at the house (I remember only her name - Goma)...
Alright... As disconnected as this feels, I have to write up a TIFF story for Bucharest, so here's how my Sunday night will go by.
Although it was a weekend, I would use every minute of it to familiarize myself with the house and the research center (which is just across the street and has a great wireless connection). So, after unpacking, I did what I haven't done probably ever: go to the office on a Sunday! Quite nice actually... I am sitting in the lounge at the entrance, surrounded by gorilla photos (I already have a hard time learning people's names, I think it will be quite a challenge to learn to differentiate the animals). So far I have only met the two dogs and one cat at the house (I remember only her name - Goma)...
Alright... As disconnected as this feels, I have to write up a TIFF story for Bucharest, so here's how my Sunday night will go by.
Saturday, June 5, 2010
Kwita Izina
Alright, off to Ruhengeri (Musanze, by its new name). We made it out here on the 4th in the evening, ready to plunge into this other new massive event the following morning: Kwita Izina - the naming of the baby gorillas.
In the evening I finally got to my new house - just across the street from the Karisoke Research Center. Dinner was awaiting - apparently we have this fantastic lady looking after the house and cooking French dishes pretty much every day :-) I also met some of my house mates. And then collapsed...
Fast-forward to 6.45 a.m. Saturday morning. I did get my first wake-up call in Africa (of course I did, the man in charge was American :-)...) At 7 I saw my new office for the first time and met a few dozen people who work for Karisoke (needless to say, I couldn't remember many of the names...) Some 15 of us took off to Kingi (some half-an-hour-drive up to the Mountain Volcano Region) in a pick-up truck to attend to big ceremony.
Again, I was designated to be the photographer of the day - so there I was, running around for the next 8 hours... Pictures of the president, of Don Cheadle, of Achim Steiner, etc, etc... plus tons of pictures of many incredibly beautiful people. A great lunch under a huge tent as well. And then some pictures of actual gorillas :-)
I will post some pictures soon. But now I need my nap, before going to this new place (Volcanica) for drinks tonight. I am still not sure how doxy goes with beer, but I cannot really worry about THAT too as well...
In the evening I finally got to my new house - just across the street from the Karisoke Research Center. Dinner was awaiting - apparently we have this fantastic lady looking after the house and cooking French dishes pretty much every day :-) I also met some of my house mates. And then collapsed...
Fast-forward to 6.45 a.m. Saturday morning. I did get my first wake-up call in Africa (of course I did, the man in charge was American :-)...) At 7 I saw my new office for the first time and met a few dozen people who work for Karisoke (needless to say, I couldn't remember many of the names...) Some 15 of us took off to Kingi (some half-an-hour-drive up to the Mountain Volcano Region) in a pick-up truck to attend to big ceremony.
Again, I was designated to be the photographer of the day - so there I was, running around for the next 8 hours... Pictures of the president, of Don Cheadle, of Achim Steiner, etc, etc... plus tons of pictures of many incredibly beautiful people. A great lunch under a huge tent as well. And then some pictures of actual gorillas :-)
I will post some pictures soon. But now I need my nap, before going to this new place (Volcanica) for drinks tonight. I am still not sure how doxy goes with beer, but I cannot really worry about THAT too as well...
Friday, June 4, 2010
Baptism of Fire
My first full day in Rwanda happened to coincide with the massive World Environment Day conference. At the airport, the midnight before, I found out I had to take photos all throughout the day, starting at 8.30 a.m. I asked the receptionists at the Beau Sejour Auberge where I was staying to give me a wake-up call at 6.45 a.m. They promised they would, but... well, they didn't. So here I was, waking up in the morning, with some ten minutes only to get ready. Luckily the guy who was supposed to pick me up was about an hour late, which gave me a bit of time to look around in the beautiful gardens and have a tea with a gorilla on it :-)
The conference was incredibly interesting, and I somehow lasted though the entire day without collapsing. I actually also went to the gala dinner in the evening, which the president was also supposed to attend. In the end there were "only" ministers present, and some very inspirational people, who have done some amazing things in their countries, in terms of conservation and sustainability.
I finally made it to the hotel right before midnight. I asked for a new wake-up call for the following morning, when I was supposed to attend a breakfast meeting at the DFGFI residence. The receptionist put that down duly, but, of course, they forgot to wake me up. Again. But I already seem to have gotten the hang of it: people are incredibly nice, although slow and late at all times. I guess this is Africa lesson #1. Don't sweat it!!!
The conference was incredibly interesting, and I somehow lasted though the entire day without collapsing. I actually also went to the gala dinner in the evening, which the president was also supposed to attend. In the end there were "only" ministers present, and some very inspirational people, who have done some amazing things in their countries, in terms of conservation and sustainability.
I finally made it to the hotel right before midnight. I asked for a new wake-up call for the following morning, when I was supposed to attend a breakfast meeting at the DFGFI residence. The receptionist put that down duly, but, of course, they forgot to wake me up. Again. But I already seem to have gotten the hang of it: people are incredibly nice, although slow and late at all times. I guess this is Africa lesson #1. Don't sweat it!!!
Thursday, June 3, 2010
Stuck in a country I wasn't even supposed to get to...
I finally made it on the 10.50 a.m. flight out of Nairobi. We were going to have a short layover in Burundi (Bujumbura) and then, 25 minutes later, arrive in Kigali. Only that… Kenya Airlines (remember, “The Pride of Africa”) thought otherwise. Once we landed in Burundi we were informed that there’s a glitch with the paperwork – that they were supposed to have a technician onboard to sign some release papers, and they didn’t have that person there (!) – which meant we couldn’t clear the Burundi airspace. So, after they force-fed us some courtesy peanuts, they asked us to step down from the plane. We had been grounded. Literally.
We ended up spending the next … 10 hours in this tiny airport, receiving “updates” from this diligent official every half an hour or so. He kept telling us that they are on the phone with Nairobi. Some five hours later it had become clear that the reason was a bit different: apparently Kenya Airline personnel had not been paid on-time, so they decided to go on an impromptu strike, in another country…
OK, so there we were, a few dozen people from two planes (some of us were Kigali-bound, some Nairobi-bound). Of course soon we were just bound to each other. Tired, jet-lagged, hungry (they would give us something to eat only some eight hours later…). We were told we might have to go by bus to Rwanda, but then this option was also scrapped.
LATE at night they came up with a brilliant solution: we would all board the next plane to Kigali, that was supposed to arrive from Nairobi… So we flew out after 10 p.m. and finally landed in Rwanda shortly before midnight. I had, at that point, traveled for about 60 hours… The planned overlapping with Julie, the girl I was going to replace at Dian Fossey Fund, had failed miserably. She was due to fly back to the U.S. early the following morning…
To add to the excitement, I was informed upon arrival that the next day I would have to help cover a huge international event, starting at 8 a.m. in the fancy Serena Hotel. I pretty much collapsed under the mosquito net soon after midnight, in the city of les milles collines…
We ended up spending the next … 10 hours in this tiny airport, receiving “updates” from this diligent official every half an hour or so. He kept telling us that they are on the phone with Nairobi. Some five hours later it had become clear that the reason was a bit different: apparently Kenya Airline personnel had not been paid on-time, so they decided to go on an impromptu strike, in another country…
OK, so there we were, a few dozen people from two planes (some of us were Kigali-bound, some Nairobi-bound). Of course soon we were just bound to each other. Tired, jet-lagged, hungry (they would give us something to eat only some eight hours later…). We were told we might have to go by bus to Rwanda, but then this option was also scrapped.
LATE at night they came up with a brilliant solution: we would all board the next plane to Kigali, that was supposed to arrive from Nairobi… So we flew out after 10 p.m. and finally landed in Rwanda shortly before midnight. I had, at that point, traveled for about 60 hours… The planned overlapping with Julie, the girl I was going to replace at Dian Fossey Fund, had failed miserably. She was due to fly back to the U.S. early the following morning…
To add to the excitement, I was informed upon arrival that the next day I would have to help cover a huge international event, starting at 8 a.m. in the fancy Serena Hotel. I pretty much collapsed under the mosquito net soon after midnight, in the city of les milles collines…
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
Below the Equator
We crossed the Equator this morning at 5.08 a.m., on a Kenya Airways ("Pride of Africa") flight. If I didn't quite believe I was embarking on this journey, it all became clear when the TV screens onboard showed the distance and time remaining to ... 'safari' (i.e. 'destination' in Swahili). I also received sugar, salt and pepper containers with elephants and giraffes on, so there was no doubt anymore. I was in Africa alright!
I am now alternating blogging and dozing off in a smelly transit lounge in Nairobi. I will be here for a few more hours, before flying first to Burundi and then to Rwanda. Let the adventure begin!
I am now alternating blogging and dozing off in a smelly transit lounge in Nairobi. I will be here for a few more hours, before flying first to Burundi and then to Rwanda. Let the adventure begin!
En Route to Africa
I left Cluj on May 31, hoping I would catch all my four flights and get to Rwanda the morning after. As luck has it, a major storm in Bucharest kept us on the ground long enough so that I would miss my connecting flight from Amsterdam to Nairobi. I have been re-booked for tonight, and I will most likely have an extra flight to get onto - Nairobi-Bujumbura - and then arrive to Kigali tomorrow early afternoon. It seems like I will have to hit the ground running, as there are a ton of big operations taking place both in Rwanda and Congo in the very near future. I am also trying to get used to taking antibiotics daily, as after a Lariam pill last week I decided that the face tingling was too upsetting, so I switched to doxycycline.
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