Drama, drama, drama

The Congo must be the most dramatic place on earth. I've described a bit of the human drama already -- the violence, the power struggles and the crushing poverty. Then there's the disease, of which Congo has many of the nastiest known to man. There's the run of the mill stuff -- cholera, malaria, typhoid, polio, etc. There's the exotic stuff like Ebola virus, a hemorrhagic fever that involves bleeding to death through every orifice. The Congo still has the bubonic plague, if you can imagine.

Aside from all this, the natural environment is incredibly dramatic. I've already described the beauty of the landscape around Goma, which is dominated by the hazy cone of the Nyiragongo volcano. I've seen plenty of active volcanoes before, but never one that actually emits glowing red smoke. Eastern DRC is nestled in the Great Rift, so aside from volcanoes you also have earthquakes, like the one that rattled nearby Bukavu today. (I was actually in Bukavu just last Friday...) Lake Kivu, that peaceful expanse of molten silver, conceals a deadly layer of methane gas that could escape at just about any time, asphyxiating everything in the area. And then there are the storms. A few nights ago, I experienced the most violent thunderstorm I've ever seen. There was so much lightening that my hotel room flickered as though lit by a strobe light -- a few seconds between each flash, no more. The rain came down in a torrent, and the lake was so whipped up by the wind that it lashed against my balcony. And for the first time since probably the age of four, I was a little afraid.

I'm sure that seems ridiculous, but let me try to explain. Living in the Western world, you are cushioned by a profound underlying sense that everything will be all right. Nature isn't out to kill you by fabulously exotic means. And besides, there's a buffer between you and disasters of most kind. Buildings are constructed to code. Commercial airlines respect a certain minimum standard of safety. That low, rumbling noise is probably just a passing truck. In the Congo, you are stripped of this sense of security. Everything is potentially dangerous. That low, rumbling noise could be the volcano erupting, or an earthquake, or heavy military vehicles (or, theoretically, all three at the same time.) The aviation industry here is notorious for regular, spectacular plane crashes. And the building you're sleeping in certainly doesn't have a lightening rod.

For all those people who regularly bitch and whine about The Government -- how pushy, how nannying, how interfering -- all I can say is, thank your lucky stars. That peaceful sleep you enjoy at night? It's called good governance. And it's priceless.