An Ordinary Day In Burundi - Dec 2, 2006

EVEN THOUGH NO ONE'S ASKED for it, we thought we might take you behind-the-scenes to experience a typical day in the lives of your intrepid travellers. The place could probably be anywhere along our route, but let's look at Bujumbura, Burundi, early December 2006.

THE MUEZZIN reminds us that it's 4:30 AM with his insistent 'Allahu Akbar'. The night has been (almost) cool and relatively mosquito-free under our trusty net. KB still spends an hour or so reading during the stillest hours, while Judy snoozes contentedly. The city slowly wakes up and one by one, our neighbors' radios blast out Kiswahili, Kirundi and French news, commentary and music. (Yet a few days ago, 2 very popular radio commentators were jailed for criticizing the current government so stations have taken on a more somber tone.)

Our home-away-from-home is a small apartment upstairs from one of the Quaker Churches here in the capital. We hardly need to attend the Sunday and weekday services, since electrified keyboard, guitar and rockin' choral groups, and even the sermons feel like they are right in our living room. We're definitely getting religion... you won't recognize us in a few months!

Though there are frequent power outages (and fanless nights), we feel lucky to have such comfortable, albeit basic digs, complete with refrigerator and running water (cold). We have a simple meal at night at home cooked by Cheeza, also known as gardener-sweeper-night guard; he keeps surprising us with his sense of style and cuisine. For instance, luscious mangoes! Lovely, sweet little yellow bananas (or large green ones, boiled with tomatoes). Lots of rice or beans or french fries, always with a generous mound of spinach-like greens. A variety of tasty fish from Lake Tanganyika. Pineapple for dessert. (Forget ice cream and cake -- images from the past!) In spite of all the changes, our stomachs are surviving if not thriving.

THIS IS A SMALL CITY, even by African standards, and we walk everywhere. In the 2 weeks we've been here, we've probably seen less than 10 white faces in the throngs of people here in Centre Ville. (Seems the 'wazunugu' working with NGOs and the U.N. drive, no doubt to avoid the doses of diesel, the stares and comments, and the beggars.) Sid

ewalks hardly exist, and we as pedestrians have learned to dodge cars going the wrong way, cars on the sidewalk, bicyclists dodging the people dodging the cars, not to mention the bottom-less holes that have no pattern. Surprise!

BURUNDI is one of the poorest countries in the world. Combine this abject poverty with the ravages of 12 years of war, and the results are bombed-out buildings and thousands of orphans, homeless, and pretty-aggressive street people. Judy and I have almost daily conversations about how to respond to hungry moms and kids with out-stretched hands. I take the 'institutional' approach: build shelters, orphanages, and schools -- change the system. Judy's heart breaks at the sight of hungry kids and we (notice the 'we') have taken to buying extra buns and bananas to distribute as we walk from here to the center of town. We continue to look for a balance, but the disparity between the very entitled Mercedes-driving elite and the vast majority of desperately poor ($90/year per capita income), is hard to accept. As is our status as deep-pocketed white people.

One thing that even the most economically-challenged Burundian can't live without, is their cell phone! Everyone talking while doing any/everything. Connecting up. Where would *we* be without our mobile? Loaned to us by friends Paul and Susan in Tanzania, we can understand how it has revolutionized (really!) life in most all countries in Africa. Even KB, staunchest critic of the cell phone mania in the U.S., is an evangelizing convert here. I've learned how to text-message and leap for the mobile when it erupts into song. ('Time to dance', Judy says.) Combine email and the mobile, and we are able to communicate with people all over this country, region and world. (We still can't get over hearing Megan's and our sister's voices on this tiny little electronic miracle.) We do have to change phone 'brains' each time we cross a border, and eventually will have accumulated one for each country.

HOW MANY OF YOU have wondered how the two of us could survive being in each other's presence 24/7? Do you really want to know the dramatic details? We've had some challenging moments, to say the least, and thankfully each has moved us to a deeper understanding about the other. Conflict = Opportunity, for sure. Not having a 'job' means that we create our day, week and month together... and focus on supporting each other. I've been pursuing a few interests: Bearing Witness trips for teachers, Transitional Justice, the role of the U.N., Human Rights work... while Judy prepares for her next training. We talk about taking a vacation from each other, but then who would lead the way through the crowd in the market, watch our bags as they are loaded (we hope) on the bus, listen to fears and joys, share frustrations, or help to diagnose the latest imagined (or real) malady? We have come to appreciate each other in unexpected ways, forged by this unbelievable experience.

BY 9:30 AT THE LATEST, these 2 old-timers are finished. Surprisingly exhausted by what might look to the casual observer as a pretty simple day: texting today's colleagues on the phone, keeping good humor at Immigration, figuring out how to get a bus ticket, spending an hour-or-two at this Tropicana Internet Cafe, buying food (and handing it out), meeting with peace-builders, and so on, all while trying to keep cool. Nothing is easy and even the simplest chores offer special challenges. Travel Is Work, rewarding work, but I'm glad to drop the mosquito net, crawl under it, and read a few pages of the collection of Paul Theroux's before the book drops on my face. G'night, all!