Blog Post:  Posted January 16, 2009, 8:12 am by Roger Burks

Returning to Africa

Country: DR Congo

Topics: Emergencies, Displacement, Conflict & War

Africa has been one of my great loves since I first traveled there 14 years ago. I've been captivated since the first time I set foot on its red soil for Peace Corps. I met my wife there. And I truly believe that there's no place on earth that tests the will, breaks the body and yet exalts the spirit like Africa.

But the tiny country where I lived, Togo, is almost idyllic when compared to the place I'm traveling this weekend: the war-torn eastern reaches of the Democratic Republic of Congo. It is home to one of the world's most horrific ongoing tragedies. It is where Mercy Corps is carrying out some of its most lifesaving work, providing water and other critical assistance to more than 100,000 war-displaced people every day.

There are few places that capture the imagination like Congo — its very name implies unexplored mysteries. But there's very little mystery in what's happened to the place — and especially its people — over the last decade. The facts speak for themselves:

• Since 1998, at least 5.4 million people have perished because of the conflict. That's the most war deaths since World War II, and nearly seven times more fatalities than the Rwandan Genocide.
• In Congo, about 1,200 people die each day, mostly from conflict-related disease and hunger. That adds up to at least 36,000 people every month.
• Cholera, an often-fatal disease caused by poor sanitation and contaminated water, is spreading through displacement camps at an alarming rate. Almost 1,000 new cases were reported in a single province last November.
• There are more than one million displaced people in eastern Congo, including 250,000 forced from their homes over the last four months.

Once I hit the ground, my daily itinerary will depend on what's going on: whether there's combat between rebel factions, which roads are safe to travel and where the displaced populations are headed. I will mostly be traveling to the sprawling displacement camps where Mercy Corps works. I will bring you the stories of the people I meet — and do my best to convey their voices, their challenges and their spirit.

That spirit is one of the reasons I fell in love with Africa. Because no matter the depths of poverty or desperation of daily life, there is kindness there. There is generosity. There are smiles, in spite of everything.

And that's what I know I'll find on eastern Congo's rocky ground.

Posted November 12, 2008

Thousands Besieged in Eastern Congo

Country: DR Congo

Topics: Emergencies

Amid the uncertainties of peace negotiations on the heels of ferocious fighting in eastern Congo, Mercy Corps is supplying more than 100,000 displaced people with the most critical resource of all: clean, fresh water.

Your support can help us ensure that supplies and basic services continue to reach families caught somewhere in between overflowing displacement camps and the home villages they had to flee in the face of violence.

Mercy Corps is playing a key role in emergency response efforts by providing lifesaving water, sanitation and other services to those forced from their villages and homes.

We've been providing more than 400,000 liters of potable water per day to people living in displacement camps in and around the city of Goma. In addition, we're building latrines and working with camp residents to prevent cholera.

Mercy Corps has also been working to minimize the environmental strain of the displaced by distributing thousands of fuel-efficient stoves and firewood. The stoves use less than one-half of the firewood that conventional open-flame cooking methods require. As a result, deforestation normally associated with large displacement camps is significantly lessened. In addition, security is improved because women do not have to collect wood as frequently, a process that often exposes them to risk of assault.

Even with current negotiations between rebel forces, the government of Congo and the international community, thousands of families are unsure of where to go and what to do. This situation is complicating the already-difficult task of providing for the needs of one million displaced people.

"In my three-and-a-half years in Congo, I've never seen circumstances so dire," says Luke King, Mercy Corps' Country Director in Congo. "The population here had already reached its coping capacity before recent events, and now they are in dire need of support from the international community. Without resources for continued services, we expect a steep increase in malnutrition and diarrhoea-related diseases. Nevertheless, we'll continue to make strong efforts to respond to the needs of the population."

Families in this part of Congo, who have endured the deadliest conflict since World War II, have already lost homes and loved ones. They are now trapped in communities and camps with no idea if — or when — the violence will resume. Please help us speed water and other critical supplies to them in their time of greatest need.

Your donations are needed to save lives, prevent worsening disease and build hope in a devastated environment.

Posted June 6, 2008

Congo: Fuel Efficient Stoves

Country: DR Congo

The lives of thousands of people living in the camps of Goma in the Democratic Republic of Congo have been dramatically improved thanks to the highly successful Fuel Efficient Stoves project.

The Democratic Republic of the Congo (Congo, for short) has suffered from years of conflict. A recent escalation left hundreds of thousands of internally displaced people (IDPs) living in large, barely habitable, camps. In the three territories where Mercy Corps operates — Goma, Rutshuru and Masisi — there were more than 850,000 displaced people living in thirteen sprawling IDP camps by the end of 2008. These camps were all located on the border of Virunga National Park, one the most threatened World Heritage Sites in the world. Not only is the park a bio-diversity hotspot but it is home to the last vestiges of the mountain gorilla. The Park was already under severe pressure from local population growth before the IDPs arrived.

When displaced families use traditional food preparation techniques, which typically consist of an open cooking fire, the daily firewood needs for each IDP household amounts to seven kilograms of wood per day. For the total displaced population in the area, this translated to a total daily need of over 900 tons of wood every day.

The fuel needs for these cooking fires was not only causing severe deforestation in the National Park but the collection of fuel wood in unstable areas was placing women at risk of rape and murder by some of the remaining rebel soldiers.

Thanks to funding received for this project, Mercy Corps has been able to construct 20,000 fuel efficient stoves for IDP families. The introduction of these stoves, together with training in improved food preparation techniques, has had a dramatic effect. Not only has firewood consumption been reduced by around 50 percent, but the use of the stoves has improved the security and health of women and their children. It has also reduced CO2 emissions by an estimated 24,000 tons to date.

Some of the IDPs are now beginning to return home. Many are intending to construct fuel efficient stoves in their home villages and Mercy Corps will be providing ongoing support in this transitional period.

Posted May 7, 2008

Mercy Corps Reaches Families Torn by Conflict in Congo

Country: DR Congo

Topics: Children, Emergencies, Water/Sanitation

Mercy Corps is helping more than 50,000 displaced people meet their most basic needs in areas of conflict-ravaged northeastern Congo near the Rwandan border.

Our team needs your help to speed relief to families through our Emergency Response Fund.

Mercy Corps is helping alleviate suffering along the country's war-torn eastern edge, where tens of thousands of people are fleeing their homes where fighting rages between government and rebel forces.

The United Nations World Food Programme has estimated that continuing violence is preventing tens of thousands of Congolese from receiving food aid. Mercy Corps is working on solutions to not only bring such critical supplies to families, but also ensure longer-term prospects for food security.

Through a generous grant from The Hunger Site, we are piloting an innovative new approach to help families feed themselves: small "kitchen gardens" constructed from burlap sacks, soil and rocks. These tiny yet productive plots take up less than 50 square centimeters of space, but can produce as many vegetables as a two or three square metre garden plot. Some of the vegetables planted include carrots, cabbage, onions and leafy greens.

While our sights are set on sustainability and long-term objectives, our response began — and remains rooted — in emergency assistance to displaced families.

In September 2007, working closely with the United Nations and other humanitarian organisations, a Mercy Corps team helped distribute food and water to 2,500 families in Mugunga, a town seven miles southeast of the embattled city of Sake. The Mercy Corps team also aided in the provision of plastic sheeting, food supplements, jerry cans, children's clothing, mosquito nets and blankets to an estimated 5,000 families.

Mercy Corps has also helped Caritas and the World Food Programme distribute 60 tons of grain, beans and cooking oil to 10,000 displaced people — the first major food distribution in the area since an epic influx of families fleeing violence.

Today, we are are providing 450,000 liters of water each day to 50,000 displaced persons in the Rutshuru area, ensuring a supply of clean water that helps keep families and children healthy. We have also constructed more than 400 latrines to improve sanitary conditions and keep preventable diseases at bay.

However, this aid and assistance is being delivered under extremely dire and dangerous circumstances.

Congo emerged in 2003 from five years of war involving Rwanda, Uganda and other countries in the region. As many as 5.4 million people died, most from hunger and disease as the country's economy, health system and infrastructure collapsed.

Clashes between local and regional militias have renewed fears of a resumption of the war — which lead to more deaths than any conflict since World War II.

Fighting displaced more than 200,000 people throughout 2007 in North Kivu province, home to six million people. Since January 2008, an additional 75,000 have been forced from their homes.

Nationwide, some 1.2 million Congolese are displaced due to conflict. Life expectancy has dropped by 10 years in the past decade and 20 percent of children die before reaching age five, one of the highest rates in the world.

The needs throughout northeastern Congo are immense. War-weary families are struggling to protect and provide for their children.

Until lasting peace allows them to return home, they need our help. Mercy Corps is on the ground to meet those needs.

Please give a generous donation to our Emergency Response Fund to help Congolese families.

Posted February 27, 2008 by Richard Jacquot

Rainstorms, Lava and a Human Flood

Country: DR Congo

Topics: Agriculture, Emergencies, Women's Empowerment

I recently watched as the rain fell for hours over Goma. From the comfort of a house, rain in tropical Africa is spectacular, even magic. But for the thousands displaced Congolese waiting out the storm in their twenty-four square foot huts made of sticks and banana leaves, it is hell.

What's happening today in northeastern Congo is one of the world's ongoing silent disasters. Since August 2007, Mercy Corps has been here helping distribute food, water and critical relief supplies to the area's displaced families. You can pitch in today to help us continue that assistance.

Thousands of displaced families have been living in camps packed with makeshift shelters since 2006 — but most of the people taking refuge here came in the second half of 2007 to escape the fighting in the Masisi and Rutshuru areas, north of Goma. There are about 800,000 internally displaced people (IDPs) in northeastern Congo today and, according to a recent survey, at least 5.4 million Congolese have died in this war. That's nearly seven times the number of people that perished in the 1994 Rwandan Genocide.

Northeastern Congo has long been a place where violence and disaster have swallowed populations and cities whole.

A volatile land

Goma is a land of volcanoes and, when the weather allows, we can see from our house the Nyiragongo crater glowing at the northern end of the city. In 2002 the volcano erupted, adding a fresh layer of lava. There were three main veins, one of which cut the city and the airport in two. At the airport, the lava imprisoned a large plane on its parking lot. In the middle of town it swallowed people's houses and several buildings, including the cathedral and the main market. In downtown Goma, the street abruptly climbs five feet and half the front stores disappear underground.

It is very difficult to dig through lava soil to build the emergency water and sanitation systems that are necessary to prevent or control a cholera outbreak. My Mercy Corps colleagues told me about the overwhelming working conditions they experienced in 1995, handling the cholera epidemic with both limited water supplies and inadequate latrines. It must have been a terrible experience for all those involved. Now, I walk on the same lava stones whose sharp protuberances cut shoes and feet of families fleeing the Rwandan Genocide.

Some of the camps for this latest human crisis are built on that new layer of lava. This time, the movements of populations took place more gradually, unlike the human wave that entered Congo over the course of just a few weeks in 1994. The emergency water points, latrines, showers, rubbish pits, and communal infrastructures are in place. When a cholera outbreak started last October, it was quickly stopped by reinforcing hygiene practices and organising communities' responses.

Now, our team is taking the hard lessons we've learned in the area around Goma and applying them to an even more isolated area — the town of Rutshuru, about 50 miles north.

Too little land, too precarious to farm

Rutshuru and its surrounding villages have seen the arrival of thousands of displaced Congolese over the last three months. As it is often the case in emergency situations, the IDPs arrived in Rutshuru on October 2007 and were placed in temporary camps. The local authorities thought it would be for a few weeks and then they would go back home. But, because of violence and uncertainty, they have remained here.

One of Mercy Corps' tasks in Rutshuru is to contribute to the water and sanitation infrastructure of the more long-term sites that will absorb these IDPs. We're building a piped-water system and other sanitation infrastructure for more than half a dozen displacement camps here.

Rutshuru used to be one of the major farming regions of Congo but, with the war, its agricultural production fell drastically and its linkages to markets throughout the country have been disrupted. Ironically — and perhaps providentially — today farming families depend on humanitarian assistance from the surplus productions of other farmers, thousands of miles away, to survive.

It is hard for any farmer to be deprived of land. When we arrived at the local hotel in Rutshuru to rent our rooms, there were a dozen individuals, women and men, held up by local policemen. They were displaced individuals who had been caught farming in the Virunga National Park, west of Rutshuru. It's against the law to cause any type of damages in the park and they had been arrested — a meeting has been scheduled in the hotel to decide their fates.

Some camps have enough space to provide for small farming plots. Unfortunately, with the recent influx of even more families into the area, as soon as a plot has been harvested it is repossessed to build shelters for newly displaced families. Displaced families say they wish they had opportunities to grow their own food, but the problem is lack of land, seeds and farming tools.

Local landowners have some available land to lease, but they charge from £6 to £12 per harvest, in addition to one bag (about 100 pounds) of whatever has been harvested. In normal conditions and on a typically sized plot, a single harvest yields about 3 to 4 bags of beans, corn or potatoes. The risk for a displaced farmer is enormous: if he or she harvests less than a bag, she still owes cash and crops to the landowner.

And so even trying to work the land to provide for family needs becomes a risk. Mercy Corps is helping displaced families establish small kitchen gardens to provide for some of their needs, but more land is needed.

Fetching firewood at a tragic cost

One of the biggest tragedies of this war is violence against women and girls. There are frequent and consistent reports of this throughout the camps, and fetching firewood for their families is one of the riskiest chores.

In just one camp where we work, there have been 70 cases of reported violence against women and girls since 2006, and five for the month of December 2007 alone. With no open land available, all trees are either on private land or on national park land; it is illegal to cut them.

Displaced families live on less than $1 a day. In the local market, a bundle of small wood sufficient to cook one meal costs about 20 cents. One bag of charcoal that will last a month costs $8 to £6 Unable to afford these costs, many women and girls go fetch wood wherever they can find it, but at great personal risks.

We asked men if they could go and fetch wood themselves so that women and girls would not be exposed to violence. Together, we discussed the possibility that they could organise themselves in large groups to dissuade attackers and protect women while they are collecting wood. "But they would not hesitate to kill us," the men told us. "We have nothing they would want."

In addition, since cutting wood on private or government land is illegal, IDPs usually undertake this activity individually and in secret, both to secure their source of wood and to reduce the risk of being caught by landowners or government agents.

Mercy Corps is addressing this issue as well, through teaching women how to build fuel-efficient cookstoves that use only a fraction of the firewood as traditional cook fires. It's an approach that has saved hundreds of women in Darfur, and will hopefully do the same here.

A generation without classrooms

The first thing one experiences when arriving at a displacement is the swarming of children around the car. They touch my arms with one finger, either to discover why my skin is light or how body hairs feel, and eventually a few of them capture my hands.

Only 35 percent of children living in Congo's urban areas go to school. Out here, it's a fraction of that fraction. In these camps very few parents have money to pay for the fees, uniform, and supplies it takes to attend local schools. The camps have no schools, and it is terrible to think that many of these curious children will never have the opportunity to realize their potential. They are like fertile, yet fallow fields in Congo's overcrowded violent lands.

One also wonders how change will reach this land, where generation after generation has known nothing but endless war and lack of opportunity. According to some international observers, the recent peace conference may be the successful historic opportunity this region of Congo has long needed to find peace. But when the weapons fall silent, the hard work commences and harder choices will have to be made than those made at the conference.

We need to think about how best to help the farmers, women, girls and children of this wounded country.

You can help Congo's displaced families strive to not only survive, but thrive by donating to our Emergency Response Fund today. Thank you for your support.

Blog Post:  Posted September 12, 2007, 11:53 pm by Matthew De Galan

Lost and Found

Country: DR Congo

Yesterday I went out on the food distribution, our first. We got lost, somehow, driving the minivan over the rough farm paths of Lac Vert. Other NGOs have Land Cruisers and Range Rovers with flags and big radio antennas; we creep along in our minivan, a piece of paper with the logo printed on it taped to the window. We are the football moms of Goma. But (and donors, please pay attention) the minivan rents for a third less, holds more people and burns less fuel.

Caritas and WFP were in charge of the distribution, and they are delighted to see us. The site is roped off with the thinnest of twine. On the other side are thousands of people, looking in grim-faced, waiting for their turn to enter the distribution zone, for their chance to eat. Just inside the twine was a mid-sized truck; workers carried 50 kilo sacks of wheat flour and stacked them next to the wall of a school — three high, five deep and 15 across. The workers are already covered in flour dust and look like bakers coming from a chaotic kitchen. I snap pictures and soon I have flour on my pants, shirt, face. I'm a baker, too, perhaps.

There are smaller sacks of beans — lentils, I think. And white plastic jugs of cooking oil. Each person receives 20 kilos of flour, 6 kilos of beans, a third of a jug of cooking oil and 5 grams of salt. To speed the activity inside the distribution zone, people are formed into groups of 15. Each group carts 6 bags of flour, two bags of beans, five jugs of oil, and then they leave the exit point and divide the goods. Most do so methodically, peacefully. But, inevitably, a few groups break into arguments. My share is short! You're cheating me! You bastard!! I saw a man in a wheelchair flailing with his arms at another man, and the man striking back. Another group was squared off, two men chest to chest, two woman gesturing wildly, screaming. But these are the exceptions. Some 2,500 families received 10 days of food rations — that's about 167 groups of 15 — and I saw two arguments. Statistically, not too bad.

Inevitably, human dramas come our way. An old woman has lost her food coupon, which you get when you register as an IDP. She kept trying to talk to each of us in succession, looking at us helplessly, hoping someone would give her a better answer. She was 70 or so, my mum's age. She seemed utterly alone.

A few minutes later a woman of 30, tall and dressed sharply in a colourful dress and matching head scarf, came to us, in tears, literally shaking. She's lost her baby. Cannot find him anywhere. I call Fernand over, ask him to translate French into Swahili.

Boy or girl? Boy.

Age? Less than one.

Wearing? A black t-shirt?

Last seen where, when? Right there, just out side the exit point. 15 minutes ago.

How did he disappear? I was dividing my food. He disappeared.

Where was he when you were dividing? I handed him to a boy.

Describe him? About 9, wearing a beige t-shirt.

Do you know him? No, I had never seen him before.

Your boy's name? Espoir — Hope.

I ask Fernand to get one of the Caritas bullhorns. We leave the distribution zone and walk around — me, Fernand and the woman, now more hysterical, beside herself with grief. For 15 minutes we walk through the IDP site, Fernand explaining the situation, asking if anyone has seen the baby. I think about all the police dramas I've watched — the first few hours are the most critical. Does that even matter here? Who would steal a baby in a IDP camp? Who would want one more mouth to feed? But then, if you've lost a baby … maybe you want one back.

It's hot, and getting hotter. We walk up to the road, past the UNICEF tent. The tanker for the water distribution is pulling in off the main road. We jump out of the way. Kids trail after us, some wanting to help, some seeming to laugh at the woman. Other women shout out advice, look concerned, shake their heads solemnly. I wonder if my presence will help or hurt? Do I project some authority that will aid in the return? Or will people think, hey, this baby might be worth something. The foreigner will surely pay for its return!

I start to wonder, just a bit, if the woman is slightly mad. Perhaps there is no baby. Finally, Fernand suggests that we go back where the boy disappeared and wait. Surely, the other boy will return the child there. We head back, slipping inside the twine barrier, and immediately the woman gives a cry of joy and relief. A sheepish boy in a beige t-shirt holding a smiling baby in a black t-shirt. She runs and takes the baby, hugs him close, cries some more, and says something that might be thanks or might be an admonishment to the boy in the beige shirt. Then she hands him a cookie.

Fernand smiles and laughs. We both do. We have done our good deed.

"You are the hero of the day," I tell him. Fernand explains that, in fact, his family name — Bingwa — means "hero" in Swahili.

"You see, he is a hero everyday," Christophe says, and slaps his friend on the back.

The woman, still crying, turns and thanks us, takes her child, holding him very closely, very carefully, and walks down the hill into the camp.

Blog Post:  Posted September 11, 2007, 6:49 pm by Matthew De Galan

It's nice to be wanted

Country: DR Congo

Everyone at the hotel wants to work for us, sell us something, get something from us. They approach the matter politely, with deference. Feliciane wants to work in admistration. She also raises chickens and submitted a proposal to us, asking for £42,000 to launch a larger enterprise.

The tall young man with the Good Humor Ice Cream shirt that says "Robin" on the nameplate wants to be a driver. The cook here, who also waits tables, has offered his services as our cook, should we rent a house. A short young man whose name I do not know asked me, three days, running, if I had an extra flash drive. He kept explaining that this was his last day at the hotel, but that I could give it to his brother before I leave. But he's still here, every day.

Finally, another tall young man with the Good Humor Ice Cream shirt that has Tasha on the nameplate asked if we would be interested in purchasing "un petite animal du foret." As a pet, a curiosity. It turned out to be a turtle.

Posted September 11, 2007 by Matthew De Galan

The Key is Hope

Country: DR Congo

Topics: Children, Emergencies, Water/Sanitation

Like thousands of Congolese children, young Giselle's path to relative safety in Goma has been grueling. But, with your help, Mercy Corps is offering them much-needed support once they reach their destination.

She walked four hours with her mother and two siblings last Wednesday to escape eastern Congo's brutal violence. Her family first fled their farm last Monday when soldiers arrived, seeking shelter in the centre of Sake, a battle-torn city. But early Wednesday, shells began exploding in the city, and the family ran for their lives.

"We ran out of the house as fast as we could," says 12-year-old Giselle, nervously playing with a key attached to a bracelet. "We haven't eaten for three days. Today we got water, thank God."

What worries Giselle most is her father, who is trapped behind the battle lines, unable to join them or even let them know if he is alive. Since arriving, she and her family built a small hut out of tree branches and banana leaves, perched on the rough gray-black volcanic rock that juts up everywhere in the area, making it difficult to walk and impossible to dig latrines or plant gardens.

On Thursday, the weather turned cool and damp, with massive thunderstorms and drenching rain that poured through the makeshift dwellings. With the rains came massive swarms of mosquitoes and gnats.

By Monday, thousands of families, including Giselle's, had received plastic sheeting and were draping it over the roofs of their huts - a small step forward from the misery of the first few days. Yellow jerry cans, filled with clean water, rested in front of homes. Blankets, cooking utensils and other items were making life a bit easier.

But for Giselle and the thousands of other children, recovery is a long way off. There are no schools, no activities, no health care. And even her primary chores - long walks to fetch water and wood - pose grave dangers. Sexual violence against women and girls is a horrific fact of life in eastern Congo, the legacy of years of warfare and the continued presence of at least five armed groups operating in the region.

"Last week we had to walk to the lake, an hour away," she says, adding that they travel in groups of 10 or more, for safety. "Now the water is right here and we feel much safer."

And the key on her bracelet, what is it for?

"It's the key to my house," she says.

Does she want to go back?

"Yes, but not until it's safe. Until then, we will stay here."

Blog Post:  Posted September 10, 2007, 4:46 pm by Matthew De Galan

'L’eau, c’est la vie!'

Country: DR Congo

I never found Eduardo, but the distribution was exciting. Mercy Corps' first work in Congo. We helped AVSI, an Italian NGO, set up and distribute water to 2,500 families. It started off a bit rocky. The tanker truck was late, and then the hose connecting it to the three portable water taps (each with six spigots) was chock full of holes. Desperately, as hundreds of thirsty people waited in line, we wrapped the pipe with rubber strips, trying to stem the flow. You could feel hundreds of eyes on you, watching the water seep away into the lava rock. So close, so tantalizingly close. Soon enough, it was fixed, and a group of children — 4, 5, 6 years old — toddled into the area, which was taped off like a crime scene, with two entry points and two exit points. MC and AVSI staff were posted at each entry and each exit, and we had maybe two people at each tap to help the kids and elderly fill their jerry cans. You might think folks would be excited, but mostly they seemed worried, deadly serious. As if they might not get their full measure, as if their turn might not come. But it did, and soon enough about 400 people were coming through per hour, filling 10 or 20 liter containers. By the end of the day, we had distributed 40,000 liters, and no one was left in line.

The amazing thing is watching the kids — 4 year olds come in, wobble over the rocks, fill their containers and then, impossibly, hoist it up and walk home. Some loop a long scarf through the handle, tie it tight, and then sling the looped fabric over their head and hunch forward. They are masters at carrying things here. If there was an Olympics for transport, Congo would dominate. Some women balance the containers on their head. The kids who didn't have scarfs, usually the boys, simply hefted them in both hands, walking a few steps, setting it down, picking it back up and walking some more. With the really tiny kids, we'd help them carry it outside the perimeter, sometimes beyond, once or twice to the door of the dwelling.

* * *

After a couple of hours things calmed down, so I pulled Christophe aside and proposed a tour around the camp. It was hot, the sun out in full force. I wanted to talk to people, ask them how they came here, what had happened up in Sake. We talked to a few families — pretty much the same story. Shells started dropping into the city from the hills above, and they all fled. Some on Monday, some waited a couple of more days.

It's a three-hour walk or so, and even Sunday the road was packed with new arrivals coming in. We talked to one woman who wouldn't give her name, her age, the number of children she had. Who can blame her? So we decided to try the kids. That's where I met Giselle, whose photo and story now grace the Mercy Corps website. She is 12.

She looks at you with no emotion, no expression, a face rigid with non-emotion. There is no fear in looking at you — she doesn't look down, or away. She looks right at you, with a quiet intelligence. But not a trace is revealed, no hint of mirth or a smile or mischief; no sadness or tears or remorse. Perfectly still and self-contained and controlled. But somehow the life has gone out, or lays repressed behind some wall of fear or pain or reticence. I am assuming too much, perhaps. The writer's mistake. Thinking you understand, when you don't. When you can't.

Here she is, a girl whose father is missing in the war, who was shelled and shot at, who can't walk to get water or wood without going with 10 others for fear of rape. And now she is here, living in a hut that the rain pours through each night, swarmed by mosquitoes, without food or water or latrines or school. Nothing, really, but her pale purple dress with big white flowers, and a bracelet with the key to her home back in Sake.

Blog Post:  Posted September 9, 2007, 8:39 pm by Matthew De Galan

Instructions

Country: DR Congo

Finally, some real work! Actually helping people instead of listening to their stories and driving home. Mugur has found us a niche. He’s been frantically working every angle and contact as the IDPs flooded into town this week. Being new to Congo, it’s been tough to break in. At first, we heard that the UN had everything covered. We feared being stuck on the sidelines. But yesterday Mugur ran into the team from Solidarite, the French NGO, at Doga, the expat watering hole, and over cigarettes and beer he got us into the game. In just a few minutes we’ll head out with a 12-person Mercy Corps team to help distribute water to displaced families in Lac Vert. The Congolese staff that’s been helping us with the surveys has just been conscripted as aid workers. And they are tremendously excited. So am I. Our instructions are to report to an Italian named Eduardo.