Heroic Congolese Doctor Survives Assassination Attempt
It has been reported that one of my heroes, Denis Mukwege, has survived an assassination attempt today in the DRC. Dr. Mukwege runs a clinic in Kinshasa which specializes in reconstructive surgeries for vaginal trauma in women who have been raped in the ongoing conflict in the DRC.
Mukwege has performed more than 20,000 surgeries on women, but has recently moved on to speaking out against the conflict on the world stage. He often publicly points to the DRC government and the the government of Rwanda as fostering conditions that put Congolese women in danger.
Recently, he spoke before the UN and accused DRC President Joseph Kabila as being complicit. Apparently, someone was listening and sent gunmen out to murder him today. His guard was killed but Mukwege survived the attack.
I had the pleasure of meeting Dr. Mukwege about two years ago. I’m glad to see that he’s alive to fight another day for the women of the DRC.
Vendors in the Mbita Market, Downtown Mbita
A couple of days ago, I wrote about prices in the local market. In that post there were some pictures of some local sellers. To be fair, I printed them out and took copies to the people in the pictures as a way of saying thanks. Prints are cheap, and people get excited about having pictures of themselves around. It’s a small price to pay for invading someone’s space for a while.
Someone saw me giving out copies and pretty soon nearly the entire market was asking to have their picture taken. In Malawi, taking pictures in a market is a big no-no. Here it’s entirely ok.
Photographing people in a crowded market in the middle of the day is kind of a challenge and, to be honest, I don’t like having my camera out in the open. It draws attention and attracts young thieves. I’m consoled, though, by newspaper reports of market thieves being burned alive (whatever you do, don’t Google it).
Upon first looking at the pictures, I was fairly underwhelmed. Shots of people I’ve had the chance to speak to are always far better than just shots of people I don’t know at all; the story is everything. I must have shot nearly 50 people in a span of 3 minutes so there really wasn’t much time for conversation. To me, these were just some rushed shots of some random people in the market.
However, looking at them again, I discovered something interesting. I realized that every single one of the people in the pictures made a point of demonstrating their trade, or wanted themselves to be featured at their stand clearly identifying themselves as the owners.
All of them took the time to make themselves look good before having their picture taken. Some put on their “uniform,” which was usually an apron. A few even went out of their way to look like they were passing goods to customers, emphasizing that they are merchants who believe in what they sell.
Nearly all of the vendors in the market are women. Some are in their 80’s. Some are just kids. Some have small children with them. All of them appear to know each other well. Almost none of them speak English, indicating that few have been to school.
It’s clear from the pictures that every one of the market vendors is immensely proud of what they do, even if its just selling a few tomatoes, having a small cooking oil stand or dealing in kitchen goods. I’m certainly not denigrating market sellers, but the level of pride evident in this small, out of the way market in this isolated corner of the planet was pretty inspiring.
Sucru Island, Lake Victoria, Kenya
Today I went with one of the survey teams to Sucru, a tiny island of about 200 people on Lake Victoria.
Like other islands, the people make their living almost entirely through fishing. Small scale fisherman capture Nile Perch, Tilapia and catfish, bring them back to community fishing boards, which then sell them to larger brokers, which then take them to the notorious (and mysterious) “factory.” The “factory” then filets the fish and sells them to European and American dealers. The welfare of this tiny island depends entirely on the whims of hungry Europeans. The global economy starts on islands like Sucru.
In contrast with the other islands, however, the locals appear to eat some of what they catch. In fact, I assume that the majority of what they eat comes straight from the water. I could see absolutely no evidence of agriculture of any kind on this tiny island. The result is that the residents of the island appear quite well fed, some are even fat, but clearly lack essential vitamins due to their monotonous diet.
Housing conditions are miserable, and, like many islands here, sanitation is quite poor. About twenty years ago, a group came and installed a septic and well system to try to keep the locals from openly defecating and drinking their own sewage, but the system appears to have never been used. Like most areas around Lake Victoria, people prefer to crap in the bushes over a formal toilet. The result is that diarrheal disease is constant, and children live in states of vastly poor health.
As far as I could tell, school age children have to stay with relatives on the mainland in order to get an education. Healthwise, they might fare better in school.
Though only having a handful of residents, malaria is endemic to the island. Black mambas (considered the most dangerous snake in the world) are also native and live in plentiful numbers. We found a freshly killed one on a rock.
Safari ants are also plentiful. A few crawled up my pant leg and drew blood. I can be seen in one of the pictures picking them off myself. I think everyone had their pants off at some point picking off ants.
Despite all the challenges, the locals are incredibly kind (like many people around the lake), appear quite happy and don’t mind being photographed. They laugh hysterically at my rudimentary (though improving) command of the Luo language.
More Pictures from Mbita, Kenya
Here are some more pictures. I mostly took these on a morning walk.
Of note was the picture of an amorous male donkey terrorizing the females in a local market. The incident stopped traffic, left a fruit stand in ruins, and knocked at least three people down into the dust. Even the furious beatings of the locals couldn’t stop the donkey, which is notorious for causing chaos on this end of town.
Mbita, Kenya
I’m too busy writing other things to actually write anything for this blog, so my two readers will have to suffice with pictures.
Right now, I’m in Mbita, Kenya, located in Nyanza Province. The area is known to be one of the least developed places in all of Kenya, but has to be one of the friendliest. It’s not hard to find someone to talk to, and even easier to get their picture. Most times, they ask you to take one.
Tanzania – Sumbwanga Rural
We’ve started our visits to drug shops in this region of Tanzania, which mostly entails sitting alongside interviews in Swahili and waiting long hours for customers to show up. It’s a national holiday so everyone must be busy attending to children at home, cause noone seems to be interested in buying pharmaceuticals today.
This village sits on the outskirts of Sumbwanga town in Rukwa Region. The local economy is based on agricultural trade and local buying and selling of goods available anywhere in Sub Saharan Africa. The market consists of the usual fare, soap, haircuts, soft drinks and beer, but sports a variety of dried fishes and local fruits. I pass on the dried fish as delectable as it looks. The omelet with French fries is also out, sad to say. The oranges, no problem.
Like most places in Africa, people are very kind and will repeatedly thank you making the long journey to their very small and mostly unknown village. Here, so close to friendly and peaceful hotspots like Malawi and Zambia, extreme kindness is a given.
The only business here is small business. Like everywhere in Africa, businesses are informal, sole proprietorships. The drug shops are no exception. I spoke with two shop owners today, both were trained as nurses, but left public service to open or work at small drug shops.
The relationship of drug shops with the public system is worth noting. As the public system in Tanzania relies completely on government revenue and donor aid to function, drugs are often unavailable. In theory, this opens a market opportunity for private shops but in reality it appears that public employees are funneling drugs to shops they have a stake in, as a recent scandal has unveiled.
I spoke with a gentleman today who may be considered exceptional, but likely isn’t. 20 year old Charles, living in an extremely remote town worked burning charcoal for pennies, saved his earnings and opened a small shop, debt free. Now he sells soap, cooking oil and single cigarettes from a small storefront adjacent to one of the drug shops we visited. He would like to save his money and open a shop which sells lights, generators and electrical goods aimed at other shops.
One common misconception about Africa is that Africans lack an entrepreneurial spirit. Far from it, what they actually lack is capital.
All Africans are entrepreneurs. Americans on the other hand mostly just draw paychecks.
Shuji Watanabe, 1972 (?) – 2012
Shuji (on the right) with Maa
I would talk of deep conversations with Shuji, but the truth is that I only heard him speak once. Despite his apparent linguistic reticence, Shuji was no shut-in. He would kindly greet me with a wave and a nod whenever I saw him, would come out to shows that my band played, and generally treat me and every one else as a friend. Shuji was a constant mystery, though it was impossible to say that he was anything but kind.
The last time I saw Shuji was last year, when I was visiting Osaka, which, as would happen, was the single time I heard his voice. He was busy fighting cancer, but still made a point to leave the house and visit his friends. He had ridden in on a small motorcycle that a social services group had provided him to help him get around. I seem to remember that we chided him for not wearing a helmet.
Apparently, he maintained his quiet but outgoing demeanor until his final days. Eizo contacted me a few weeks ago and asked that I send Shuji a BULB Tshirt immediately, indicating that he wanted one. It’s an odd last request, but I was incredibly honored to do so for a good friend and a generally amazing guy.
I’m happy to have shared this earth with Shuji and happier that I had the opportunity to meet him. I’m sure that everyone he knows is thinking the same thing. He will be sorely missed on my next trip to Osaka.
Guest Blog (and post 300!): The Joys of Eating at the World Bank
My good friend Kathleen recently picked up a job at the World Bank. She used to work at National Geographic. Getting jobs at really interesting and amazing places is a symptom of having a great personality and living in Washington D.C.
Recently, she sent me a note telling me how great the food at the Bank is. This is the week of the World Bank/IMF spring meetings (please get me tickets) so, to celebrate, I asked her to write a short piece about it. Next time I go to D.C., lunch will be at the Bank, preferably with Kathleen and Jim Young Kim, listening to the beautiful sounds of an employed piano player two floors up.
Anyway, here’s her mouth-watering piece on eating at the World Bank:
Many office buildings house a small store where you can buy soda, gum, and chips. At the World Bank, that store has espresso, refrigerator magnets, and wine. The last thing I bought there was a cucumber, mint, feta cheese tabouleh wrap. And a bag of chips. Well, no, no chips.
The cafeteria at the Bank is famous. Google has an autocomplete for it. It has a Yelp page. You use real plates and cutlery. So grab a tray and come with me! The first station is called whole+sum. You pick a protein and two veggies. Today’s are
—Green Chile Chicken Stew with Potatoes & Peanuts
—*Spicy Black Bean Chili with Lime Crema
—Fresh Tilapia in Rich Mole
—*Poblano Brown Rice & Beans
—*Farro Salad with Orange Cumin Dressing
—*Cilantro Jicama Slaw
—*Grilled Pineapple Wedge with Honey & Lime
—*Sautéed Chayote
—*Romaine Lettuce, Mango, Red Onions, Radishes & Buttermilk Avocado Salad Dressing
The asterisks above and the cards by the food indicate what is veggie and what has pork. Today’s general theme is Cuba. The “Global” station is serving “ropa vieja, pollo a la babacoa, moros y cristianos, yuca frita with mojo sauce, jicama salad with avocado, and ensalada rusa.” For the rest of the week we will be seeing jicama. They will work leftovers into the salad bar and sandwiches. (The World Bank building itself is built from buildings they’ve used since the 1940s. Use leftovers.)
The soup station has four kinds. Because this is the World Bank (did she just say “Je prends un bento box,” working three languages?), the stations are named South Asian & African, Pacific Rim, Quiche, Noodle Bowl, Good (“A new station that is good for you, your neighbor, the community, and the planet” that today features lemon herbed chicken, sockeye salmon with herbs de Provence, gingered ahi tuna, beef with cracked pepper and garlic, sage citrus pork [contains pork]), Mediterranean Flatbreads, Pizza, Deli, Everything Vegetarian, Sushi/Sashimi/Bento Box, Salad Bar. The desserts are what you would see at a Paris bakery. There is a frozen yogurt station. At the cashier station, there are cookies, apples, and wine. (I figure this is a French thing. It’s the second most-heard language in the hallways. France is a country that “graduated” quickly from being a recipient of funds to being a donor.)
Each station expands with ever-changing flavors. My Czech teammate, who is studying Chinese, often gets ramen at the Noodle Bowl. You get two or three noodles to choose from, two or three broths (today it’s red coconut curry or tom yum), chopped tofu and green onions, and all that stuff. Three kinds of flatbread at that station. Ever-rotating African street/comfort food.
The building takes up an entire city block. The dining hall nearly does. Because the selections are so many and the dining room so vast, there is a waiting area just past the cashiers. I don’t know how the cashiers do their job, but the food is simply and very reasonably priced (often by whether or not there is meat) and the cashiers are reliably cheerful.
They have eliminated single-serving condiment packets; the waiting area is where you get Sriracha for your noodles, vinegar for your pommes frites. The takeout containers and cutlery are biodegradable.
The walls of the main dining room feature doors of the world. They are beautiful, painted, carved, mostly wood. Many must be surprised to find themselves in a D.C. basement after so many years on a farm in Kazakhstan or a temple in Malaysia. If you don’t want to eat in the main dining hall, you can eat on a bridge over a pool or on a mezzanine. From the mezzanine you can enjoy the sounds of a player piano two stories up.
The diversity continues: There are children. The Bank has daycare and many kids get to have lunch with their parent. Got a picky eater? Take him to the World Bank cafeteria.
Mr. Condom Saves Thailand
Mechai_Viravaidya, affectionately known as “Mr. Condom” in his native Thailand, has been promoting condom use since the 1970’s. Everywhere he goes, he encourages the use of condoms to prevent disease and unwanted pregnancies. He is at least partially responsible for reducing Thailand’s fertility rate from 7 to 1.5 and almost completely respsonsible for reducing the number of new HIV infections by 90% between the mid 90’s and 2005. It is estimated that his campaigns have saved the lives of more than 7 million people.
Incredibly, he did it in part by giving condoms to elementary school children to take home to their parents. Given the American right’s completely backward and jaw dropping assault on reproductive freedom lately, Mechai might have found himself hanging from a tree had he attempted this in the States.
It doesn’t take a doctor to save lives. Public health activists like Mechai do it every day. In fact, people around me do it every day and receive little credit for it.
Check out Mechai’s video of a TED talk given last year.
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