Part 2 - Meeting Big Tree and De Rock

Day Three

My tent beside the hut at the back of my hosts parcel

I woke after a wonderfully deep sleep and enjoyed the luxury of brushing my hair in privacy without and audience because I had hidden my tent at the back of my host’s parcel away from all the others for that very reason. Today I needed to wash my clothes and we had a meeting with the Local Development Committee at 2pm. Big List!

I had a breakfast of oranges (I prefer to call them greens), bananas, coconut, dough balls (called banyans) and a granola bar that had come all the way with me from Austria. Then I returned to my tent and spied a tiny 2cm long worm type larvae. I threw it out of the tent. Upon further inspection worms were found under every stationary object in the tent. At least 100 were exiled but I still wasn’t sure of their source. I soon pinned it down to the only thing possible though, the four dried fish that Tristan had so kindly bought for me at the market in Inongo before I left (and upon spying them my gardener commented ‘you guys eat those?’). The fish were also unceremoniously evacuated.

Mambo, with the remains of the Tondolo at her feet

I washed my clothes without event at the house where the animateurs had camped previously as it was beside a well, thus easier to collect water. The locals were shocked that the white person/chief was able to wash her own clothes, evidently they had only met the type of whites that prove themselves to be completely useless in all practical areas. When I returned to the pyote  (palm-frond open-air shade) after hanging my clothes where Anne (the mama of the house) and the rest of the family were I discovered we had a new member of our group, Da Rock, a baby Red-tailed monkey. I picked Da Rock up and began petting him and he collapsed with squeaks of ecstasy into my chest. I am in love. We spent a blissful few hours there chatting, playing with De Rock and eating tondlo, a wonderfully sour fruit that grows naturally in the forest. I enjoyed sharing ‘sour’ faces with their youngest girl Mambo. Sometimes language isn’t necessary. 

 

My next task was to get drinking water from the spring (source in French). The village of 2,000 has one beautiful source for all its drinking water. I asked the middle daughter, Noella, to come with me so I could stock up my canteen. The sourse is beautifully clear and there are strict rules in the village for not using it for any other reason. However, it is generally children who collect water for their families and if their hands or canteens are contaminated it can put the entire village at risk of sickness. This happens in many villages in our project area every year, especially  during times in the rainy season when water from all areas mixes and run over. In fact that very evening the Capita (mayor) of the village was walking around the village and announcing the news. One of the items was that people were washing dishes in the source and that this was not allowed.  I haven’t been able to be very prudent with my consumption of food and water on this trip. No boiling, no washing my own pots. But, so far so good, luckily I have been here for 2 years and my stomach was pretty tough to start with anyway. 

At the spring with some ladies also collecting water

We spent the rest of the afternoon with the local development committee teaching them about climate change, the project and how they can begin to steward development in their own village. There were many many questions which is my favorite part. I always take care to have the questions translated from Lingala to French if I don’t understand because what the locals want to know is so important to me.

 After a lovely meal of boiled snake fish and kwanga I fell asleep in my tent content with the sounds of real African drums this time.

Day Four

Posing with my corbiel beside Mama Anne

I woke up with a start this morning because I remembered I had a date at 7am with Mama Anne to go to her field with her. When I arrived at her house she had a nice small basket for me to wear and a hoe for me to help her with. I donned the corbeil (basket) much to the amusement of her, my team, the neighbors and pretty much any one else around. We walked to her field with an entourage of women and thankfully it wasn’t much further than the edge of the village because the corbeil was cutting in to my shoulders already even though it only contained a hoe and my water. Every house-hold we passed said ‘the mundele is going to work in the field?’ they were shocked and amused. When we arrived in the field all of the women set to work to show me how to plant cassava. Its pretty basic, you simply hoe a mound and ram a piece of the old cassava stalk in to it. Easiest thing I’ve ever planted. Then you wait a year and you have a cassava tuber. I can see why it is their staple. In all their exuberance to show me how to do it we were clearing and planting fast. I asked Mama Anne if it was always like this: one day they go to one field and all help out and the next day they go to another’s? She said no, they are all here because of you. So then I laughed and said, well you are getting quite a lot of work done here then aren’t you? And she said yes, I really am.

The women all eager to demonstrate and be on film. If you look closely you can see the cassava stalks that have been planted in each mound

The women sang and hoe’d and we generally had a great time. Especially once I brought out my camera and started filming them. Everyone wanted to be on camera. A new rule was made that you could only be on camera if you were working. There was soon a shortage of tools.

On the way back she asked if I wanted to carry wood and I said yes of course. So I put my corbeil on and they loaded me up. It was about ¼ the load I see women carrying but it was super heavy and the straps were cutting in to my arms something fierce. I wonder what kind of toll that does to their bodies over the years. You would never see a man carrying a corbeil. That is woman’s work.

So we walked back in to town and the woman were singing and clapping their hands around me so we made quite the scene. When we finally arrived at the house we had a little dance party and then that was that. I have been having people come up to me now for the last 36 hours since and say “I heard you went to the fields”? and when I say yes they burst out in a big smile. *At the end of the week when I rode back through the villages I found that the news of me going to the field had reached as far as the lake 60km away that very same day.

We got word that the chief had come back from a trip he had left on because he had heard we were in his village. I was formally introduced and we had Lesolo, I also learned that his name meant Tall Tree, which his clan was particularly proud of as he owns one of the largest and sacred forests in the region. We have not had the easiest history working with the village and in fact two of our foresters were chased out of the village with guns two years ago, so it was an important meeting. The dude was so cool. His outfit was made out of the traditional material chiefs outfits are made of (red acrylic blankets with anything from Mickey Mouse to Summer flowers) but this time it was different, the shirt was cut in to a proper collar with a zipper and a big picket. But the best part was that he was wearing a cowboy hat exactly like the one I used to have. We had a great chat and he turned out to be just as wonderful as his hat.

Chief Tall Tree of Ilee

I took this the next day when it wasn't thundering and showering out

That night I had to wash my hair so I asked Mama Anne if she could boil water for me. I showered as the sun set and a thunder and lightening storm rolled in. The shower stalls are never completely private and usually have holes and/or you can see over the top. This one had both so the neighbor ladies got a lovely view of me lathering my hair. So worth it even with an audience and in the rain.