The Africa Posts
We returned to the van and drove on the central road to park by a large potato field on a hill. Near the van, more land was being tilled by some older boys of the refugee camp. It was clearly very hard going.
This camp had been in existance at least long enough to grow a crop of potatoes. Bienve had told us that an area of potato plants (out of sight, over the hill) had been dug up and taken recently. He said he did not blame the perpetrators; he knew that hunger drove them. However, it was a loss for the community.
The caring presence of Bienve can be seen here, in a video of displaced persons from one of the camps in Goma, working in the potato fields, creating agribusiness.
Beinve and my son walked up the hill to see the gardens beyond, and I stood by the working boys. The photographer who had been traveling with us leaned on the van, along with 2 men who had been child soldiers (1 was the driver). There was a steady trickle of children walking along the road and I wondered where they were going to and from. I smiled and said “bonjour,” and I soon had another group surrounding me. I felt a little closed in, and this group felt different than the walking group from earlier. I think it was my difference, my skin color, that attracted them for the most part. I heard the word Mzungu (meaning white person) a few times. There were no very young children, and it seemed like an elementary school crowd. I wonder now, whether there was some sort of informal schooling set up as well as the one we visited this morning. These children had no uniform, but I sensed they had purpose. Several said “money,” which I ignored, as I had been advised.
I reached out in my mind for some French words that I could say and after some faltering attempts I arrived at the phrase “Tout les enfants sont bon,” which means “All children are good.” The children agreed with n heads nodding. There was warmth and smiles. It may have been that I was a bit tired or depleted; it may have been that these children had less need. I learned that the level of need is much greater if one is a very recent refugee.
After maybe 10 minutes, a man came along to shoo away the children. I thought it was the photographer; he had a similar build. I didn’t like the fact that he sent them off unceremoniously, but I was in a mode of acceptance about choices made around me while I was in another culture in another part of the world.
I stepped to the other side of the road to talk with the man, who seemed to have something to say. There was some back and forth in English and French and after a few minutes he started asking me for money. I said no; I said I don’t have any, but why would he believe that? (My son was handling funds; the exchange rates were a bit confusing for me.) He persisted, and I glanced over to the van where my 3 friends were still leaning. I realized this wasn’t the photographer I was talking to. I left him and walked over to join them, leaning on the van until our next move.
I felt very comfortable with these men from Remember Youth for Change. https://www.facebook.com/rememberyouthforchange
The photographer was clearly a fan of mine. I had noticed him photographing me at various times. I had taken to smiling and pointing to my son as the main event – which he definitely was. I felt he (the photographer) was a person who saw value in my warmth, which I tend to offer easily. My son is the one, however, who cares enough to create change and to make sure the corporate funds he controls are used well – and expends a great deal of energy understanding what is needed in various parts of the world.
The 2 men who had experienced being child soldiers also have my heart, especially the one who was the driver. I will return to him another time.
At one point during this visit I heard thunder. I believe it was when we were standing by the potato field. I did not find out more until we returned to the US; at the time, it was kept from me that this sound was actually artillery fire. I never felt unsafe when I was in Goma or the surrounding area, but later it was explained to me that all was not as I experienced. I know no more about this and it is not my area of interest. Except that the occupants of the refugee camp have had to contend with this instability along with all of their loss.
Would you like to know more about Goma’s nonprofit Remember Youth for Change? https://www.facebook.com/rememberyouthforchange
8 hummingbird way 