Walked on after breakfast, the beautiful valley views now strung with power lines. Back aboard Stanely, we drove into avocado country where we traded empty bottles for huge ripe avocadoes and bananas. Continued through valleys of reds, browns and multiple shades of green.
Lunched at a gorilla sanctuary where we pigged out on avocados. Linda was the only person to eat more than my 2.5 fruit! (I am not sure if it is the same sanctuary, but the community-based Grace - Gorilla Rehabilitation and Conservation Education Center - in this part of the Democratic Republic of Congo has been so named since 2003 and continues to work towards saving the critically endangered eastern lowland/Grauer's gorillas.)
A long windy drive, with sides down just in time for a heavy storm, took us into the town of Bukavu, where we stopped to check visa prices and other information with Encounter Overland, who had camped lakeside. We then continued into town, where we spent two hours in a lovely bar restaurant, its walls hung with assorted African masks with exaggerated facial features. The dining room tables were set with crystal and the toilets - flushing! - had loo paper and hand towels!
The drive back out of town seemed much longer than driving in. We stopped again to chat to EO before tolling uphill to a grassy hollow with trees, free-ranging goats, an over-grown steam roller, huge gumtrees, and a menagerie of children and peanut sellers.
A small crowd of children quickly multiplied into a wide-eyed throng that split into small groups interested in different aspects of our camp. Several went under the truck, where Ben was wielding a grease gun; another group helped us pitch tents; but most crowded around the cooking and fire activities. As night set in they moved closer to the coals and ended up squatting in a tight semicircle, one gorgeous lad taking over Bob’s job as fire wallah, shifting the hot coals with his bare hands and fanning and blowing the wood into a blaze. Many of the children toasted corn cobs on our grill and threw the empty cobs into the coals. To prepare dinner, Adri had to dodge in and out of the double layer of black bodies occupying the seats closest to the fire. Jim was hardly visible among a sea of enthralled faces following his torch beam as he read from a book of Swedish Facts; Markus chatted with three youngsters, their elbows on chairs, eyes and smiles wide and flashing; then led them in a chanting chorus, conducting them like a maestro.
Our fire-fanner starting to beat a rhythm on a saucepan lid, so we handed out curry, milk and other food tins - fortunately we had tapped the lids on firmly, because they insisted on playing them upside down! - to the drummers who collected their friends together and with our permission moved away from the fire. Jim, Vicki, Kel, Nicki, Ann, Gary, Adri, Albert, and I became part of a crescendo of pounding rhythms, undulating bodies and powerful voices raised in answer to a leading call. This was a completely spontaneous performance which the children loved as much as we did; several beat drums, a couple led the singing with strong voices, others danced, swaying and thrusting with deep concentration and emotion. Our exuberant clapping at the end of the songs promoted an encore.
This spontaneous concert was so joyous I was dumfounded and frustrated by several of our group complaining from the back of the truck about the noise and wishing they had earplugs. I wondered what they wanted from this trip if it wasn't experiences like this. This was one of the most enjoyable evenings of the trip so far (and would remain up there when we were done) and much of the scenery could disappear and I would still feel that I'd experienced the essential best of this continent. Much of Africa is very different from Asia, lacking in the famous cities and buildings left over from rich and colourful pasts. It is easy to SEE Asia and watch the people as if viewing a play or, worse, visiting a zoo. Africa is totally different; there are very few physical remains of anything except past European domination. Africa IS people. How can we not be drawn to their dance, music, chatter, naivete; how can we complain that the locals gather in hoards around our camps to watch/meet us given that this whole trip is about us watching/meeting them. Africa has sung, danced, warred, mourned, celebrated, initiated, feared, for thousands of years. We are seeing the final glimpses of an era that ended with the arrival of Europeans and I feel privileged to witness the surviving traditions and just to be with the people whose continent we are exploring.
Early on in the night little groups of girls started singing Frere Jacque and Alouette and we tried to get a round going but they stopped when we started, unsure of what to do. Kel retrieved his skull mask and quietly put it on beside the fire and we watched the children's faces change from scared, to fascinated, to delighted. And when Kel imitated an ape, they yelled ”Gorilla!” and rushed him. There followed a crazy half hour of Kel launching growling mock attacks on a lad who growled back and grappled with him. The children passed the mask around and laughed when we squealed with fright, our fire-fanner doing a perfect imitation of a gorilla. Another lad walked on his hands across the grass. The youngsters nearly rioted when Nikki handed out tinsel, and it took a while for calm to be restored and the music to start again.
The party came to an abrupt stop when a village elder bellowed at the children, perhaps thinking they were annoying us. They handed back the various musical instruments with polite "Mercis" before scampering away, flattening Nikki and Kel's tent in their rush to escape trouble.
Unbeknownst to the old fella, four boys hid themselves under Stanley like stowaways rather than flee, and we enjoyed being part of their conspiracy. We fed them our leftover spaghetti under the truck, and they rejoined us at the fire when the coast was clear. They shared our popcorn and hot chocolate, passing the bowl from hand to hand, and introducing ourselves as the fire died.
Caption: Breakfast photo L to Right, Bakamora (great gorilla imitator,) Jervais (fire wallah) Mamba, Jean Marie.
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