Bukavu blues

It's been a frustrating few days, but filled with interesting experiences as always. The past two days were spent in Bukavu, visiting schools that had been reduced to rubble by the earthquake in February. Our interventions there struck me as inadequate, even a bit shabby: rough timber cobbled into a frame and covered with tarpaulin. These "emergency schools" were never meant to replace the originals -- that will have to be done by someone else, as it's not in our mandate. But we used the same model we use for displaced persons, and that just doesn't make sense to me. The logic behind a flimsy school in a displacement area is simple: people won't be staying there long. To use the same model in a village where the kids aren't going anywhere just doesn't make sense. On top of that, some of the schools had no supplies, no latrines, no potable water. This is the kind of thing we're supposed to fix. But because these problems didn't relate directly to the earthquake, we left things as we found them.

That wasn't the first time I'd seen something I wasn't impressed with, but it was the first time I felt like I had a right to say so. I've been part of the team for long enough now to start voicing my opinions, however tentatively. I said that I didn't find it efficient or logical to intervene in an emergency in such a way. Not only were we not "building back better", turning tragedy into opportunity by making a healthier school site for kids, we were actually building back worse. That's not our policy, it's not our mandate -- and I said so. Don't worry, though -- I didn't just bitch and find fault. I made concrete proposals, and I'm happy to say I think they'll be taken on board. Actually the team was great about it, telling me that the whole purpose of field visits was to learn lessons like these, and that they appreciated an outside view.

The travel to and from the sites was interesting too, as it always is. South Kivu province looks different than its northern cousin, but it's breathtaking too. It reminds me a little of Maui in appearance, volcanic hills draped with a quilt of Mars-red soil, cane fields and banana trees. The rivers and streams were full of people panning for gold, which looks like back-breaking work. Still, those folks have it better than the ones who seek their fortunes in the abandoned mine shafts in the hillsides. Those guys don't have much of a life-expectancy.

Speaking of life-expectancy, let me tell you about the boat ride home. Our admin assistant failed to book our return tickets, so we were obliged to take a different ferry. About halfway through the journey, we pulled up alongside an identical ferry that had broken down in the middle of Lake Kivu. It was belching black smoke and looking like it hadn't been repaired in... well, ever. So the geniuses of the boat company decide to load all the passengers from the crippled ferry on to ours.

Ever wonder why ferries in developing countries are constantly sinking? Yeah, well this is why.

I picked up my laptop and headed above decks, where I could swim if necessary.

When we got back to Goma, I made a comment to my colleague that if the incident was reported to security, the company would be black-listed. He replied jovially that it already was. I can tell you, I was NOT amused. Putting my life in danger -- not to mention voiding my insurance -- is not somebody else's decision to make. I gave him an earful, but it didn't make me feel better. I'm still steamed about it.

OK, I've now officially slacked off enough. Back to work.