Tuesday, June 28, 2011

Looking Into the Eyes of a Boy Soilder

I love personal stories. I think my favorite part of meeting new people is knowing where they have come from, their journey, and then being a part of that as long as circumstances allow. There is so much we can learn merely by listening to one another.

A few years ago I was devouring memoirs written by Africans usually about some significant, traumatic experience in their life: boy soldiers; lost boys from South Sudan; a young girl forced into slavery in North Sudan, then Europe and finally freed; and genocide survivors. Reading those books in the comfort of my safe world, completely removed from the context of the written pages, my imagination could only create a few details and the rest remained incomplete, void. In my opinion, I feel as though the western world romanticizes such experiences because we don't quite know how to react any other way. Yes, it is horrific but because it isn't a part of our intimate known world, we cannot fully relate. In an effort to not down-play such a real life horror story, it is then deemed as something heroic, but it also much more than that! Majority of the time the closest the western world gets to such atrocities is 10 feet between their chair and the nightly news and even then there is an option to merely turn the channel and pretend such things don't happen. I am guilty!

There were many times when reading those books that I cried, felt sick, and even wanted to stop altogether because it made me uncomfortable. But then I realized, the least I can do is give the author the voice they so freely deserve and share in their journey, even if it is only for 300 pages. As incomplete as my perspective was, I think reading these books have prepared me for the present. I never imagined that I would meet victims of rape, boy soldiers, or refugees outside of a paperback.

During my graduate program, I did an extensive research paper on rape as a weapon of war. I found that even though such a practice has been taking place since biblical times, there is very little recognition of the topic or research done. For a 30 page paper, I exacerbated the few resources I could find. DR Congo is claimed to be the present-day rape capital of the world. I guess you could say that I have stopped watching the news and am now living in it. I am in no way living or working on the front lines, but now the majority of the people I come in contact with have a story including many of the things I have only read about.

During my town orientation, I was told that the majority of local enforcement officials are ex-militia or ex-boy soldiers. It is actually quite obvious - a hardened expression can only mask the face of an adolescent so much. On the outskirts of town, internally displaced people still live in camps. Medair runs programs specifically targeting sexual and gender based violence victims and issues. It is very different experiencing this with your own eyes instead of an author's description. As a result, you are assured while looking into the eyes of solider, a woman, a child, a camp resident that each individual is not a statistic or a number but they are flesh and blood real along with a story, a name, and a life that deserves so much more than their past has given them.

Thursday, June 23, 2011

Hope for Congo



Tuesday I had the opportunity to visit some of Medair's projects in the field. It was my first excursion outside of Bunia so it was a welcomed change of scenery and it is always nice to get a visual of what exactly I am supporting. We traveled about 100km south to some health clinics. That was the designated mission mostly due to the rehabilitation adviser from HQ visiting the country and wanting to check out the physical structures Medair has helped build or rehabilitate. They are your typical bush clinics providing basic services. In addition to the structural rehabilitation, Medair financially subsidizes health care for IDP's (internally displaced people) and returnees.

Traveling along DRC's bumpy roads was beautiful! This region of Congo is quite green and mountainous creating quite a picturesque backdrop to war-struck, impoverished country. I have been watching documentaries on the history of DRC and it is horrifying. Democratic Republic of Congo is the 2nd poorest country in the world; however, it should be the richest country in Africa. There is a plethora of natural resources: gold, diamonds, copper, oil, and led all of which being fought over by national and international forces leaving the majority of the population in utter destitution.

While visiting one of the final health clinics along our journey on Tuesday, I came across this curious little girl. She had a very sweet demeanor and innocently peered in the window sill watching us. This child has probably seen more hardship in her young age than I have but despite it all her eyes carry a sense of hope. And I pray her hope is enough to ignite the coming generations to carry DRC on the path of its potential.

Tuesday, June 14, 2011

DR C0NG0: No expectations. No first impressions

Ever since the very beginning of this new adventure, I decided I was intentionally not going to have any expectations or first impressions. I have learned from past experience that both of these can create un-do stress, misconceptions, and false filters with which I perceive life around me all requiring significant time and energy to get back on the right path. So far this new mindset is working well.

This past week I was at Medair’s HQ office outside of Geneva, Switzerland. One of the perks in working for a non-US based organization is that I get to travel to new places. My time at HQ was exactly what I needed to be mentally ready for the months ahead. In addition, I saw friends that I met while in Switzerland in March which made this recent visit that much more memorable.

Sunday night I arrived in Uganda and spent the night just to return back to the airport the following day in order to catch a flight to Bunia, DRC. While in Entebbe (Uganda) airport, I realized I am in a different sort of Africa than I have been before. I guess you could say that I am in the stereotypical Africa, if there even is one, portrayed by the media to the western world: hot all the time, high traffic of the United Nations (UN) military forces, big, dangerous snakes (which I haven’t seen yet and hope to keep that way), and most importantly beautiful people.

On Monday I took a flight from Uganda to Bunia. The only people who fly to Bunia are the UN, ECHO (European project funders), black listed airlines, and MAF (Mission Aviation Fellowship). I took a 10 seater MAF flight all the while trying to disengage my imagination and not think of what could happen. Regardless it was a beautiful journey across Uganda, Lake Albert, and the far east mountains and jungle of Congo.

Void of expectations and first impressions, God has filled me with overwhelming peace. Upon arrival in Africa and a place I have never been before, I had this feeling of familiarity, right-ness, and a sense of home. Sometimes this is hard for me to accept that I consider a place so far away from those I love to be home and right, but I cannot deny it is anything less.

Waking up to my first morning in this new country, I prayed that God would lead me to read something he wanted me to hear in the Bible. Way out of left field I got the impression to read Exodus 4. I am usually a New Testament kind of person so I almost dismissed the impression but remembering my petition I turned to find the passage about God telling Moses to return to Egypt and speak to the people. Moses expressed trepidation in his abilities, especially his language ones. As this afternoon is my first French lesson, I can relate. However, this ancient story gave me hope that I too might be successful in my speaking endeavors.

So cheers to a new adventure, a new language, and new people. No expectations. No first impressions.