The Detouring Doctor

Two nights ago I was in a tent pitched on a South Sudanese encampment in cow dung. Now I am chowing down in a first class lounge on foie gras, Wagyu beef and Bordeaux wine. The massive incongruity is most certainly not lost on me and on reflection encapsulates all of what is wrong with this planet.

I love Africa. It is raw, basic and an adventure. The people are warm and fascinating. So too with the wildlife. My first adventure here was in 1986 with a 2 month back pack in East Africa. Sadly this place doesn’t change, at least not for the better. In fact more and more armed conflict seems to define this content. Ranging from Islamic extremists in Saharan Africa to tribal conflicts in places such as South Sudan and, more poignantly the Hutu – Tutsi conflict which continues across at least 4 countries in central Africa.

The West’s response is insipid. An armada of white 4 WD bearing the UN badge criss cross this continent. You see them everywhere! Toothless tigers accomplishing nothing. In some of the better destinations a glorified junket for so called peacekeepers. If the UN/west really wanted to make a difference here how about getting back to basics? Perhaps a 5 year program to supply clean reliable reticulated water to everyone on  the continent. Perhaps another plan for waste/ sewage management. Not as sexy as being a Mickey mouse “peacekeeper” but a whole lot more impactful.

In the meanwhile I look to achieving my goal of visiting and providing a photo record of this diverse continent.

A long time ago I saw a documentary about Leni Riefenstahl. In the 1930s she was a prominent cinematographer with potentially a glittering career ahead of her. WW2 erupted and Hitler coopted her to be his cinematographer and she made a number of propaganda films for him. Viewing them now in grainy black and white one can ee she is a master of her craft. Post WW2 she maintained that she was forced into making these films but her career as a movie maker was over. In her sixties she flew over and lived with the Nuba in South Sudan. Her eponymous book published in 1972 I have at home and is a remarkable photo essay of these proud, statuesque noble people. It is a glimpse of this that I am here to see. Interestingly this amazing woman took up SCUBA diving when she was 90 years of age and lived to the age of 101 as a vigorous active amazing lady.

The Mundari are a seminomadic pastoralist tribe. The actual drive to them only takes 40 minutes from Juba which is visible on the horizon from their camp. These people have a rich culture based upon their cattle herds. They take the animals out to graze during the day returning at night to tie them up securely to pegs laid out on ground. The setting sun provides the backdrop for the securing of hundreds of lowing cattle each of them tenderly managed including a dusting of ash to ward off insects. There is an intimacy, almost mysticism about being here to watch this.

We camp overnight with the Mundari. The morning is a flurry of activity. Obviously they milk the cows but That’s not all. They do not kill the cows at all so don’t use milk and hides unless they die of natural causes. They do, though, use the dung drying and burning that for ash to decorate themselves and also repel insects. They also use their urine in the morning supposedly as antiseptic and to moisturise skin but the end result is literally a “golden shower”. It does not stop there if a crow’s milk is declining they employ a technique of blowing into the vagina of the cow which apparently stimulates milk production.

South Sudan shares the dual “honour” of being the youngest nation in the world established in 2011 and also the poorest country in the world. As an aside on this trip I have visited the 3 poorest contries on the planet in order South Sudan, Burundi and CAR. This is a large country hived off from Sudan to the north, Sudan being Muslim and South Sudan being Christian/tribal religions. South Sudan is a country rich with oil resources but these are useless when the pipeline to export this runs through Sudan and has been sabotaged in Sudan who refuses to repair it.

It is a country that was born in the crucible of war with Sudan and all of its short history has been wracked with war, ongoing with Sudan and civil war from within with dissenting tribes. There are 64 ethnic groups in South Sudan. I tried to research the ongoing conflicts here and went cross eyed reading about and understanding the various groupings in this crazy mixed up nation.

Once again the capitol, Juba is underwhelming. Unlike Europe one doesn’t visit Africa for the sights of the big cities. Nonetheless it does have the white Nile flowing through it before it becomes th massive swamp known as the Sud. Eventually it merges with the blue Nile in far off Khartoum before becoming the main artery of Egyptian existence thence flowing into the Mediterranean sea.

The capitol of CAR, Bangui sits in the southwestern corner of this large country. The sluggish slate grey Ubangi River separates it from neighbouring DRC. Traditional dug out canoes ply the river and they are particularly busy ferrying passengers early morning and late afternoon. Most of the town is ramshackle but there is a small section around parliament, government offices and the embassies that is a bit less scruffy. Our city tour took us around these venues for a couple of hours and that completes CAR for me.

Our visit to a pygmy settlement in Rwanda was, as I mentioned before, light on with pygmies. Two hours rough drive out of town I am taken to a real pygmy village. At least none of them were anywhere near as tall as I am. The countryside is lush and green with native forest. Market towns are everywhere and the locals seem to be enjoying their labor’s. My guide tells me that food out here is cheaper than in the capitol and I am happy to have him stop and buy things it leads to photo opportunities for me but I am a bit grossed out by his initial purchase of a massive dead rat! Perhaps ratatouille is on the menu tonight!

The dance begins

The journey back

A wall of heat greets me as I deplane in the capitol, Bangui. As we taxied in there is not a single other passenger aircraft here. There are, though, 2 rows of UN branded aircraft something I have never seen before. The airport terminal is pure 1950s era with big fans whirring in the small cramped immigration area. Entry is not visa on arrival and I only have a cover note from my tour operator not a visa. An anxious 40 minute wait ensues before the corpulent African official with the booming voice exclaims “Mr Peter” and hands me my stamped passport.

This is Africa in the raw, no tourists minimal infrastructure. Driving in the streets are crowded with pedestrians, few vehicles and lined with ramshackle structures selling what goods they can obtain. I had low expectations before coming here and they have not been exceeded. My rundown hotel still sports a Sofitel name plate dating back to 1965. I am sure it has long ceased to be part of the Sofitel stable.

I have only had a couple of hours broken sleep due to the flight schedule but when my guide suggests we see the Boali Waterfalls this afternoon, I am instantly reenergised. Leaving town it is a 2 hour road pockmarked with potholes some of which could swallow a small car. The waterfalls are the main geographical tourist attraction here and they do not disappoint.

During the Belgian occupation the Belgians divided this population basically on their wealth. If one owned 10 or more cos you were deemed as Tutsi, supposedly smarter and superior. The rest of the population, sizeable 84% were named Hutus and deemed to be less intelligent and less successful. The Belgians installed the minority Tutsis as the ruling class and this kept the majority Hutus downtrodden.

After independence Hutus ruled Rwanda excluding all Tutsis from any position of power or influence. Open conflict ensued frequently but in the lead up to 1994 the Hutu backed army and militias planned a sophiscated operation to exterminate Tutsis drawing up a well researched hit list of victims. At that stage there was a peace plan drawn up by Hutu president Habyarimana to reintegrate the Tutsi minority into one state, one peoples.. On 6 April 1994, he and the president of Bujumbura were shot down in a plane flying back from a signing ceremony in Dar es Salaam. Bizarrely the aircraft crashed into the palace grounds killing all. Even more bizarrely the missile was shot from the Hutu army barracks clearly from his own side but unhappy at the prospect of reconciliation with the Tutsis.

Overnight a bloodthirsty, murderous Hutu force was unleashed. The Rwandan media repeatedly urged listeners to “kill the cockroaches (Tutsis)” One million were killed in 3 months until the Tutsis RPF forces could enter the country and establish order and and end to the bloodshed. It is not only the sheer scale of death but the obscene sick and violent modes of killings that is so disturbing. Also worth mentioning shame on the UN for withdrawing its peacekeeping force at the start of the genocide. Similarly the duplicitous French armed the Hutus and as the tide turned used their troops to ensure the safe passage of the inhuman Hutu murderers.

The Rwandan capitol of Kigali is all about the genocide monuments ranging from the museum to the Hotel Mille Collines featured as the Hotel Rwanda in the eponymous movie to the nearby genocide sites both churches that used to be safe havens for all inside it and now turned into killing fields in the most barbarous manner by the Hutus. Once again visiting these sites of barbarity reduces me to tears.

We are sitting enjoying a drink at the bar of the “Hotel Rwanda”. I have long wondered how this country can have victims and perpetrators of the genocide coexist. Anyone over the age of 35 must have some memory of the violence and bloodshed. How does one live with that? Maybe the answer to my question has emerged from the mouth of our drinks waiter who the group engages to talk about his hotel’s humanitarian achievement in 1994. When asked directly his response was “We are not allowed to talk about the genocide”. So suppression is the answer for these peoples. I hope it works for them.

For those of us not going on the gorilla trek the itinerary seemed a lot like “sloppy seconds”, a visit to the twin lakes in the morning and a pygmy village in the afternoon. I was wrong and the morning in particular, far exceeded expectations. Lake Ruhondo is a submerged volcanic crater. The waters are still and mirror reflective which made for magnificent pictures of the islands and the surrounding shoreline which featured the silhouettes of 8 different volcanoes.

We visited an island in the middle where the locals from the only village there turned out to provide a song and dance greeting.

Lake Burera at the top of the hill is a hydroelectric dam dating back to the era of Belgian colonisation in the 1950s.

The afternoon provided interesting insight into local village life but was a bit light on with actual pygmys.

It is 7pm and the rain is bucketing down. Not a good taste of what we are embarking on at 4 am the next morning, a walk inside the jungle to see chimpanzees in the wild. I awake predawn, the rain has stopped and it is surprisingly mild. It is with much anticipation that I pack and board our bus for the 1 hour bumpy ride to the trail head where our trackers are tracking the chimps.

A one hour steep climb along a rough track takes us to the patch of virgin jungle with the chimpanzees. I tread carefully through the thick undergrowth, there is no semblance of a track here. High up in the forest canopy I spot my first chimp. Then, as my eyes adjust I see another and then a mother with baby climbing on the branches and eating leaves. They are distant sightings and photography is useless but I here in the wild with them and that of itself is special. Then, in the blink of an eye, our luck changes. 

A large grey chimp decides to hang off a branch before shimmying down the tree. Soon others follow and suddenly they are at ground level. One large male sets himself on the ground chomping away at the leaves. Cautiously I approach easing my way ever closer until I am almost just 1 metre away from him. While these animals are wild they are habituated to humans and he doesn’t show any signs of anxiety or move. He is too busy eating. It seemed forever that I stood watching moved and mesmerised by the experience. I put my camera down and just take in the special wildlife encounter that I am privileged to be part of.

One of my group reminds me to take some video footage, not just stills. I realised that I have neglected to do this and switch it on. Serendipity intervenes for after 30 seconds of filming his eating he erupts into whooping noises and leaps up. Fearing retaliation I turn and retreat but he merely jumps away and summons the other chimps to follow.

Our small group takes leave and emerges from the jungle elated at being part of this very special experience.

Our last day following the Lake Kivu shoreline takes us to Rubavu. This is where the border with the much blighted Goma is and in essence it is one big city cut in two with the international border the eastern side is Rubavu and the west is Goma in the DRC.

Along the way we stop at hot springs bubbling out of the ground a byproduct of an active volcano n the DRC side. The water bubbling out of the ground is 75C and they have constructed a very basic shallow pond to sit in. Unfortunately it has not occurred to them to let some of the lake water to enter the pond and lower the temperature. At first I only dunk my feet in.I am persuaded to have a massage and mud treatment of my legs which evolved into upper body and shoulders and eventually gingerly immersing myself up to neck deep in the 40C water.

Lunch is on the “beach” at Rubavu before we head inland to Musanze. Musanze was known as Ruhengeri when I was here in 2009. A year later as part of the process of trying to heal the wounds of 1994 genocide all of the major towns and provinces were renamed as if to reinforce the break from the brutal past. In 2009 Anthony and I were here to see gorillas as this is probably the best organised place to experience this. We had a amazing experience and lots of great photos so I eschew the offer to go again (at the eye watering price of $1100 US).