Film Crews

I'm in the process of guiding the third film crew in five months, shooting documentaries on the mountain gorillas. This one is Travelscope, and it will air on PBS sometime next fall. It all sounds great and glamorous - but, actually, these people, just like the previous CNN-related people, HAVE NO CLUE!!! I would be ashamed to go in the field, half way across the world, not knowing the first thing about my subject. REALLY!

OK, maybe I am a bit over-demanding now - considering that I have grown so accustomed to my job lately, and that I finally feel I am on top of things (after months of figuring it out, especially the chaotic Congo-part). This morning, when I picked these people up, I was so confident and natural in saying "Welcome to Rwanda!". Just afterward I thought it might have seemed bizarre - especially as they were not expecting a white woman to greet them. HA!

Anyhow, it brings back the eternal dilemma: run around the globe, covering amazing stories for grand audiences (and being scolded like this in some random country, that you have no clue what the hell you talk about), or actually staying on this side of things: where you eventually become an expert (without formally being one), but your world will get so limited and self-centered (just like I wrote on FB lately, half of my daily conversations now revolve around the quality of gorilla fecal samples, that's how much I know about these guys already!) HA again!

Congo Mozaique

I am resurfacing to the blog after a week in the Congolese middle-of-nowhere, with almost no internet access, a pretty bad food poisoning episode, and a plane to Goma canceled yesterday because of the fog.

Traveling between Butembo and Kasugho (or rather Katoyu, the small village where we care for the four orphaned gorillas) is always an adventure. Both ways, our mighty jeep narrowly and very luckily managed to by-pass a ton of trucks completely stuck (it’s been raining pretty badly) and also make its way through deep mud-ditches, ponds and rivers that appeared from nowhere. Quite impressive George, our driver, actually! After this trip, I do not want to hear any more discussions and complaints about bad roads in Europe or elsewhere outside Africa!

While in Katoyu, and before the food poisoning accident, I decided to spend a night out (we usually just cram into the kitchen and then retreat to our small, damp quarters and watch DVDs). Luckily we have a new vet now, Cyprian, from Kenya, who is very quiet during the day but who likes his upbeat evenings, so we left the house and traveled through the village to the pub. Now, Romanians, please imagine this: a mud-hut called Trianon (!), advertised by a poster of a gorilla wearing sun-glasses, where you meet a history teacher who would just not shut up about Mobutu and Ceausescu, and where your Ugandan beer companions are former Rwandan rebels-now-turned Congolese soldiers, who carry around rockets and rocket launchers. Deep breath, indeed! The whole thing really beat any possible surreal scenario!!! All the more so, considering that during the day I had interviewed tons of women who had given me their horrific stories about rape by rebels and soldiers. Enough crammed in a day to give you nightmares for a lifetime. Unfortunately, this is how Congo works: everything is RAW, and no-one has any time to over-analyze anything, because tomorrow you just have to find a way and move on with the roughest of the rough life imaginable, grind some manioc flour for your daily cassava bread, and just pray no flood or rebels or disease befall you. Again and again and again...

On the bright side: this week I saw for the first time how pineapple grows (and no, it’s not in a tree…) and I also for the first time used the machete in the field to cut myself some sugar cane – which, btw, has a SPLENDID, refreshing taste! I also took a field course in botany – so I now can identify most of the plants that grow around (including the kenkina (OK, have no idea how to spell that), from which they make the quinine to treat malaria (good to know there is a large stock of this plant in Congo).

Since I walked up and down the hills between villages until my knees were at break-point, I also managed to draw hordes of kids around. Well, most of them just come up and scream ‘mzungu’ from the top of their lungs, and when you turn to them they just burst into tears and start running away. Now I also know why: apparently, since the Belgian colonial times, parents would scare their children by telling them “if you are not nice the mzungu will come and take you away!” (Cum era bancul ala cu ‘ceasul 9 a sosit, omul negru a venit?’) Here I am, the ‘omul negru’ in Africa!!! Luckily there’s always “Carlos” – our 2-year-old-neighbor, who just drops everything when he sees us coming over and grabs our hand and just does not let go. He is beyond cute, and I would adopt him today! I am almost ashamed that I have such sturdy boots and he is bare-footed, and his little tiny feet are feeling all those rough stones, and yet he is running at my speed and smiling the whole time!!!

So yes, I am, at this point, beyond exhausted, and I feel like I could sleep for a week. Then again, when every single day is a God-given opportunity to get to know this fascinating country, who has any time to sleep?!?!

Business a la congolaise

I may have spoken too soon when I declared on my FB page that I know I've lived in Africa long enough since the weird Rwanda-DRC border crossing starts seeming casual. Well, in a way I was right: I now fill out those forms rather carelessly and do not startle anymore when I see the frontier guys armed to their teeth. Also, I have become quite used to the notion that on the DRC side of things you just have to bribe - for whatever reason. I've stayed clear of trouble myself so far, but every time someone in my entourage had to produce $$$: may it be for the lack of the yellow fever certificate (which they ask for randomly as it is), some stamp that is missing, or trying to get out of having your bags opened and examined.

This morning, however, I had another funny experience I wasn't quite prepared for. Sandy and I were going to board a plane at 8 a.m., so our Goma logistics guy, Jackson, showed up at our residence to give us a lift quite early. Of course we got stuck in some mad traffic jam, but he insisted we would catch the flight - because they would simply wait for us if we're late. Quite reassured (!) we made it to the crazy airport, had our bags weighed, and then realized we are also charged for two extra bags - which were not there when we left the house. Jackson then explained that we are supposed to carry some "special mushrooms" and give the packs to someone who is going to wait for us when we land. Honestly, I didn't quite dare take the conversation any further and decided I would just play dumb and carry whatever weird plants/substances deep into Congo and see what happens. Luckily nothing bad happened - other than several officials on both sides feeling the fluffy packs and letting us get through. When we arrived in Butembo, some guy showed up to give us a lift.


He claimed he didn't know anything about us bringing "special mushrooms" packed in Champions League plastic bags, but that he knew the guy whose name was scribbled there, so we just dropped them bags in his car and moved on.


We are now waiting to be served dinner (we ordered at 4 to make sure we are getting it ready by 7) and then off we go tomorrow deep into the forest. More bribes to pay along the way - especially at the PEAGE check points. d="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5527560369701325506" />

Congolese Reverie

I cannot give too many details on my flash visit to Goma this weekend, because I am still trying to process what happened to me there. But I can say that I finally discovered the Congolese rumba (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Soukous) and that I AM IN LOVE! Dancing to those sensual beats, in the middle of a deserted, apocalyptic Goma-by-night, was really quite out of this world. At times, it felt like I was floating in some crater on the moon - this is how the city unveiled itself to me once the bustle of the working day was over. Everything pitch dark, ruins everywhere, black lava stones and gravel covering all 'roads' (Goma was destroyed in 2002 by the eruption of the neighboring Nyiragongo Volcano - which, incidentally, I intend to climb before leaving Africa, rebel-activity and lava-activity permitting.)

At times, lightnings would flash through and the roars of Kivu Lake would break the deadly, menacing silence. UN vehicles and prostitutes were the only other moving phantoms after midnight. It was the first time, actually, when I really stepped out of the car in that mad city, to walk a bit around. Bizarre and spectacular and dangerous and calm and definitely surreal - all at the same time. Movie stuff apparitions as I have never felt or experienced before anywhere else. All accompanying the douce lingala language of the wonderful rumba tunes, that I don't think I will ever release from my heart and mind.

My Utmost Rwanda Victory

Today I performed a sheer act of courage in the forest: I finally dared go see Pablo's group!

Why has this been such an incredible moment? Well, for one, Pablo's is the largest mountain gorilla group anywhere in the world, with 45 individuals. A LOOOOOT! (By comparison, so far the largest group I had been in had below 15 individuals). The other thing that had kept me away all this time - well, they range pretty much at the very top of the mountain, so all I had heard were stories of struggle and pain on the part of everyone who has even gone to see them.

Considering that the rainy season is upon us and the forest will soon turn into this mud-pot, I decided it would be now or never, so that I could still catch the paths in a decent shape. So now it was, two days after I had been feverish (therefore no strength and serious breathing problems). Then again, when has anything been "as it should be" in my life?!

Luckily, as the bamboo shoot season is also near, and all the 9 gorilla groups we monitor are coming down to feed there, Pablo's was also on the descent. OK, so I cheated a little by not going all the way to the top. But OMG, was the hike CRAZY in any event!!!

My colleague Veronica was there to commiserate, and between IPod music and conversations in Italian we finally reached the group, after almost 3 hours of up-and-down through giant lobelias and thick nettles. Yes, painful at times, for sure, but all SO worth it.

Being surrounded by that many animals is indeed mind-blowing. Wherever you turn, a gorilla will be right there, watching you, brushing by you. Wherever you want to go, another one will either lead or follow you. Veronica, the gorilla expert, would ID them immediately after the nose print and give me the heads-up: this one is gentle, the other one may charge, etc, etc. You certainly don't want to mess with these HUGE creatures (a silverback in his all might would weigh up to 250 kilograms and have the power of 7 grown men)...

Luckily, apart from an interaction between the dominant silverback Cantsbee and a lost baby buffalo, everything turned out to be completely peaceful. The only damage - my knees, which are about to explode from the steep, rushed descent we had to make, in order to avoid the mother of all storms approaching fast. Quite an INCREDIBLE adventure, for sure, and one that opened my appetite for Pablo visits on a regular basis from now on!!!

Bed Time

I’ve been sick for a few days – yes, CURENT exists also in Africa, especially when you travel on local buses in 35+ degree heat. It got to me right after returning from my trip to Uganda – but now, being Africa-savvy, I didn’t mistake the first cold symptoms for malaria anymore. Funnily, though, people here are urging me to go see a doctor – “after all, it could be malaria”. Little do they know about my CURENT-related ailments, which so far have not failed to strike on all three continents I have lived on (still, by FAR, I prefer the old-fashion CURENT over the terrible A/C!).

Treating my sore throat by gargling with salt did miracles this time as well
(for those of you who didn’t see my FB status update a few days ago, here – OMG, the modern medicine performed this 'revolutionary' study!!!!
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/09/28/health/28real.html?src=me&ref=general). So I was on my way to recovery, when I was tempted by my colleague Veronica to a glamorous Sunday in Gysenyi, at the beach of the famed Serena hotel. Knowing I’d get worse, but not being able to resist it, I went and played pretty on the shores of Kivu Lake, to the delight of some 50 Indian business men gathered around for a conference (I know, my luck!). At least I somehow evened the tan on my arms, after the terrible, careless burns I had gotten a couple of weeks beforehand.

In the evening, of course, I got worse, and now, 36 hours later, I am blogging at 5 a.m., completely feverish (I broke all records here, waking up even before the LOUD birds started doing their morning rounds).

So yes, forget going to see gorillas today (I was on the schedule that is being drafted every Friday for the following week and implemented VERY strictly). Hopefully I’ll get better by Thursday (hmmm, doubtful), in order to join Veronica to Kuryama’s group (my favorite so far, with three amazing silverbacks and scores of infants and juveniles, playing around for hours, absolutely delightfully).

Until then, though – bedtime, with movies! I have NEVER watched so many random DVDs, one after the other, after the other. It’s actually kind of cool (I wonder how people did field work in remote sites beforehand?!) Breakfast will be pancakes (Fais is spoiling me) and chamomile tea, so it’s really not all that bad in bed...