Thursday, August 9, 2012

Last Chance for Live Crocodiles

Matt signed a short term contract to do some consulting with an organization looking to build 20 or so schools out near Lac Mai Ndombe (Black Water Lake). This is his story.

They (who shall remain nameless for the sake of confidentiality) said they were nearly finished building two schools and wanted someone to survey the plans, budgets, sites, management, and construction to find ways to improve their processes. The plan to build 20 schools over the next 5 years. Ambitious. So they booked me a flight to Inongo on Kin Avia (local airline) and told me someone would meet me at the airport when I arrived. When I arrived in Inongo (landing on a dirt runway like you see in the movies) I met with the project manager who, the night before, told me that she would be leaving on the flight I would be arriving on to return to Canada due to a death in the family. Death never comes at a good time.

We talked a bit and sorted out the new plan then loaded up the truck and headed to the house (an old concrete house with no running water (all bathing and flushing done with buckets) and power for only 3 or 4 hours after sundown via generator). I dropped my bags and jumped on the back of a dirt bike (motorcycle) to head to the company headquarters to catch a boat to the first village. All the travel between the 5 villages was done by boat.
This is our boat. Complete with plastic lawn chairs.
Its pretty much a boating and fishing community around the lake. This is a fishing boat under construction. They build 'em big on the largest lake in the DRC. They also catch a lot of fish. At one point on the way between two villages, we ran into the middle of a net that was well over a kilometer long. We could not see the end in either direction. So we just guessed left and had to go around it. The communities operates on the "You break it, you bought it" philosophy and nets are expensive. Apparently they are also very bad for the fish populations.
Later that evening at camp we had fish of course.
basecamp

I asked the cook if the fish was a whale. She didn't laugh. Maybe my french is that bad. Maybe she doesn't know what a whale is. I thought it was funny. Either way, its a big fish.
The next 2 nights we had goat. Its surprisingly good.
And yes, that is a Tony Gonzalez, Kansas City Chiefs jersey.
On the way to a village a couple of days later, we stopped at a rest stop. Hilariously, everyone checked their phones for cell service. We had been on the boat for 3 hours at this point and still weren't there yet. Its hard to get much more remote than this.
Anyone got a signal?

Finally we spotted our final destination. The village of Lobeke (Lowbeky).
Turns out they have a palm-oil factory here. Yes, that is a man-made hill composed of spent palm nuts.  Its a booming industry.

Just dip your old water bottle in and pay the price . . .
After an impromptu village meeting where we became the center of attention of about 200+ villagers wondering when "We" are going to follow through on our promises, promises, promises, then being asked to give them a truck and some motorcycles cause the work they agreed to do is too hard (B.S.), and then one of my guides (one of the managers of the company I'm with) handing money to the chief (an old guy with a giant swollen infected foot who refuses to get treatment) while a kid is screaming in the background 30 yards away because someone is setting his broken arm, and then on the way out of town the same manager I'm with throwing money to people from our departing boat (which fell into the water and people were scooping up), we sat down on the boat for a wild Avacodo and roasted peanut sandwich (freaking delicious). This story kind of sums up the more technical aspects my survey also. My report was 28 pages long (lots of pictures).
Then more yachting around with the wind in my hair and sun on the face on the way home.
That night I asked when I would be picked up for my flight the following morning. From three different people I received answers of 8:00, 9:00, and 9:30AM. Just in case, I was ready at 7:30 AM. 2 hours later, two motorcycles showed up at the house and said we had to hurry because the plane was at the airport and was getting ready to leave. Of course it is. I gave my pack to one guy and jumped on the back of the other dirt bike and we flew to the airport. It was like something out of an Indiana Jones movie. Kind of fun in a scary way.

When we got to the airport I was handed my ticket and given two very heavy packages to take back to Kinshasa by the guys on the dirt bikes (free postage). Then a guy walked up to me and asked if I wanted to buy a live crocodile before I left. What? Yes. Wait. No. Definitely No. This guy was walking around with two live 4 foot long crocodiles with a piece of twine around their mouths and their arms tied behind their backs. I later found out that on a flight last November, someone bought a crocodile and boarded the plane with it. It got loose, everyone on the plane freaked out, the pilot couldn't control the plane with all the shifting weight and the plane crashed and killed everyone on board. Its hard to believe, but that's the story floating around.

Last Chance for Crocodiles!
 As I approach the plane, I see the pilot throwing luggage off the plane saying "no more" and several people throwing luggage on the plane as he is throwing it off. The Russian pilot who was calling everyone "Amigo" told me I couldn't get on the plane with my 14 kilogram pack. I had to ditch 10 kilograms or be left behind. WTF. I grabbed my cameras, notes, meds, phone, and water bottle and gave the rest to one of the motorcycle guys. Then jumped on the plane as the pilot kicked people back so he could close the door.
 
 Looking out the window past the disappointed people and the luggage that didn't make the plane, I noticed something unusual . . . Do you see it?
That's a live goose wrapped in plastic and taped from the base of its neck to its tail feathers waiting to be shipped to Kinshasa. Poor guy. Its really hot out there.

Anyway, I made it back after mowing the lawn with the plane half the way home (nothing like a close up, high speed view of the upper canopy of a rain forest). The flight attendant sat on the floor. Kids sat in their parents laps. There are 18 seats on the plane. There were more than 18 passengers. A week later my bag showed up at our apartment unannounced. All in all, not a bad trip. I hope I get to go back.

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