Amahoro Burundi!

Return to Uganda

I arrived back in Uganda late Sunday, and have spent the last couple of days wandering around the town, revisiting my old haunts (except the legendary Bubbles, which will come later in the week). I’m also catching up on sleep – as you might have gathered from my last post on all the parties in my last few days in Burundi, I didn’t get a whole lot of sleep, and the bus ride was pretty tiring. It’s great to be back – I thought I’d died and gone to heaven when I got into Aristoc (bookstore for those of you that don’t know Kampala) and had the usual supermarket-culture-shock. It’s annoying that I can’t drink the tap water any more though (not sure if I’ve posted on this before, but in Bujumbura you can drink the tap water!). It’s also disconcerting that in the 18 months I’ve been away, things have changed. Shoprite, Game and Uchumi have been supplemented by Nakumatt, the Kenyan supermarket chain, which have opened a branch in a brand spanking new mall and restaurant complex. Garden City is bigger, or at least the attached hotel is bigger. Kyoto has closed down and/or moved (nooooooooo!). And there’s a new brand of beer – Nile Gold, produced by the same people who make Nile Special. Haven’t tried it yet, but will report back when I have the chance. These fast changes are disconcerting, but I suppose they are an inevitable feature of quickly-developing countries. When I go back to London or Oxford after long periods nothing much changes, because those cities have pretty much reached where they’re going to go, so change is slower and less dramatic (except for East London, with the Olympics). But Kampala is growing quickly, so changes are inevitable – people say the same things about Kigali, and I expect that if I go back to Burundi a couple of years after the election (if it goes well) then it will be very different, with either a Nakumatt or a Shoprite, taller buildings, hopefully a bookshop, and more hotels. The traffic will also be a lot worse; Claver claims that the traffic in Bujumbura is bad, something that I find hilarious – he really needs to go to Kampala! In some way’s I regret it – Bujumbura’s size and relaxed feel are part of its charm – but it’s inevitable, and I welcome it because it’s part and parcel of development. And a bookshop would be great.

Last days in Burundi

Although I’ve already left, I wanted to post quickly about my last few days in Burundi, which in many ways summed up why I love the country so much. On Thursday, I was able to meet Marie Rose, one of only two female ex-combatants who are Members of Parliament (on which more later), and she told me more about the country’s reconstruction plans and what the government is doing to help women ex-combatants. Positive point one: the country is small, making it easy to access its movers and shakers. Later, Pierre Claver tells me that she donates most of her salary to help women ex-combatants access training or set up mutual assistance schemes, and works very closely to help CEDAC’s women’s programme. Positive point two: people really care about establishing peace and developing the country.

Thursday night, I went to a movie night at the marine house and had some beers, then stayed up late playing drinking poker. Positive point three: good beer, lively ex-pat community. Friday I rushed round like crazy trying to get stuff finished, including a trip to the market with Huy, Morgan and Carol to buy pagne, followed by a cheap lunch in a local eatery near the market. I also met up with Eric, who presented me with a carved wall plaque; it’s fair to say that it’s not something I would have chosen myself, but I said I would treasure it and meant it; I almost bawled when he gave it to me. Positive point four: Burundians are unceasingly welcoming and generous. Then Friday night I had the best party I’ve had in Burundi; started out with beer and brochettes with Pierre Claver, followed by a awesome party at Barbara’s house – very chilled out and met some cool people, including some members of Burundi’s gay community – awesome people who I wish I’d met earlier. Then on to another party at the house next door to the Marine House.

The party was allegedly organised by someone called Pierre, who worked for the EU, but no-one there seemed to know Pierre and no-one seemed to care – the doors were open to all. At the party I ran into several people (muzungu and Burundian) who I knew already – a couple of people from Iriba, where I’ve been working, and my friend Olivier, who works for UNHCR, and who poured me a gin and tonic so strong I literally couldn’t drink it. We danced beside the pool, then, almost inevitably, in the pool. As Isaac pointed out, it was like a particularly debauched scene from Emergency Sex. Positive point five: Burundians are party animals.

Saturday, I had breakfast with Pierre Claver during the travaux communitaire; like Rwanda, Burundi has regular ‘community works’. A lot of ordinary people seem to do them, digging drainage ditches, etc, but literally none of the people I knew ever did. Claver claims that it’s a waste of time because you just listen to political speeches; I’m sceptical about this – there seem to be an awful lot of people on the streets doing stuff – but it leads to positive point six: willingness to criticise the government. As I walked into town I was greeted by Amable, working as a security guard, and Eric Uwimana, who I interviewed on my first day of profiling. They wished me luck, and send me on my way. Positive point seven: a small town where you regularly run into friends.

Having been to say goodbye to Nana and retrieve my sleeping bag, I headed to Bora Bora for a final visit (positive point eight: the beach), before heading back to Pierre Claver’s to collect my stuff. A coke with Huy, a cup of tea with Morgan and a movie at the marine house completed the evening, before I grabbed an hour or two of sleep and headed off to get my bus at 5am.

In the spirit of honesty, I should point out that there were a few negatives as well, that also reflected my time in Burundi; Peace Exchange trying to rip me off so I had to walk to Face a Face, the fact that the buses leave when full, so the only place you can get a bus from the town centre is the bus station, meaning that you have to walk 10 minutes from Aroma, to get a bus that passes right by Aroma again 20 minutes later, having to wait ages for the bus to fill, people having no sense of urgency, not showing up when they say they will, and never returning calls. But although these things drive me crazy, they are more than outweighed by the positives, and on the whole it was a wonderful few days, a wonderful goodbye to some great friends, and to a country that I’ve fallen head over heels in love with, and that I hope I will be able to come back to soon.

Leaving Burundi

I left Burundi at the crack of dawn yesterday morning, and am now writing from Kampala, Uganda. I’m gutted to have left, I miss the country already, with its tiny town centre, its beautiful beaches, its brochettes, and of course my friends, Burundian and Muzungu, who made the country so special. I feel so privileged to have worked with some great people, Pierre Claver from Survivor Corps and Eric from CEDAC, and I hope that the work I have done with them will prove useful in future – and that they will be able to continue it with blogs, the flip, and profiles. I will look forward to reading about the great work that I’m sure they will be doing, and I hope to come back to Burundi soon and visit them (note to any readers: if you hear of any jobs going from about August next year, let me know!). Having said all of this, I’m utterly exhausted and in need of a break, which I hope I can get in Uganda. I finished my school work at about 3am on the day I was flying out to Burundi, then hit the ground running, and I’ve only had a couple of days off since. Once I get back to the UK it’ll be a bit hectic sorting out the move to Boston – so I plan to take the opportunity to chill out and catch up on sleep while I’m here, as well as curling up with a book from the lovely Aristoc – the one thing I’ve been craving while in Burundi! If you’ve been enjoying reading the blog, then fear not! I will be continuing to post with accounts of my travels to and around Uganda, and thoughts on Burundi vis-a-vis the rest of East Africa.

History Passing

A couple of days ago I read on the BBC about the funeral of the last British WW1 veteran, who died a fortnight ago, aged 111, and nearly bawled. A part of our history is now gone forever; there are a few others left, but only one who saw action, and none who fought in the trenches. Of course it seems ridiculous to be so upset by the death of a 111-year-old, and even more so to be sad for the passing of a period of history that we should be glad to see the back of. It is unquestionably a Good Thing that we no long send our young men to be slaughtered in their hundreds of thousands over pointless geopolitical disputes.

The sadness, therefore, comes from two things. The first is the feeling that in those terrible times, ordinary people did extra-ordinary things. But more important is the fear that now that the horror of the trenches no longer lives in memory, we may forget it. Of course we won’t really – there is a wealth of testimony, including an autobiography written by Mr Patch when he realised that his would be one of the last voices to tell of the past. And having vivid memories of total war did not stop Europeans going back to war within a generation. But Western Europe in the last sixty years has been one of the world’s great peacebuilding stories; as I write this I am wearing a hat with the European Union logo on it (Dad, if you’ve been looking for it, sorry), and we have managed to refrain from killing one another for the longest period in our history so far.

The memories of our past now serve more to bring us together than to force us back into conflict – again, something that Mr Patch saw as crucial. At his funeral, at his request, his coffin was carried by Belgian, French and German soldiers, a piece of symbolism that again threatened tears. But it was also this that showed the wider relevance; if he was only a survivor, his death would be distressing. But he made it a symbol of unity and reconciliation, showing that out of tragedy, we can find hope and progress.

Gerard Prunier has called the war that still engulfs the great lakes region ‘Africa’s World War’, and I have spent the last two months in a country that must be seen as at least as traumatised as Europe in 1919. There are groups that blame one another and demand revenge, but, unlike in Europe in 1919, they have avoided this temptation. I won’t labour the point by trying to extend the comparison too far, but for me there are two lessons to be drawn. Burundians who have known nothing but war have told me of their longing for peace, and their hopes for what their country can do now that they have it. But Europe’s lessons tell us that that is not enough; it would be harder to find a population more desperate for peace than Europe in 1919, but within 20 years they were back at war. The second is that peace is possible; it took a second attempt in Europe, but eventually we got there.

I shared this story with some of my Burundian friends, and one person gave me a response that was one of the most moving I have heard in this country; the hope that in sixty or eighty years, the last veteran of the Burundian war will be buried, his coffin carried by the descendents of all sides, and the sense that a piece of history has passed. I passed this reaction on to Pierre Claver and Marie Rose, a CNDD-FDD Parliamentarian, and no-one laughed. I think there is a real risk that this country will slide back into war, but the story of Mr Patch’s death reminded me that there is also hope.

Burundi Tourism

I’ve already blogged about the fact that there is no tourism industry in Burundi, despite its marketable assets. Today, via my friend Carol, I gained an insight into why that might be. She works in microfinance and will have some bosses from the US visiting next week, and was trying to find out if there were any excursions from Bujumbura that she didn’t already know about, so paid a visit to the tourism office, also a gift shop that sells postcards (woohoo), that is next to our favourite cafe. She asked if they had any maps of the country that she could use; they offered to sell her one for 10,000F – with no looking allowed! Then she asked if they had any leaflets on attractions in the country. No. Then she saw a leaflet on drumming performances; she asked if she could have one. She could – but at a cost of 2,000F. Since she didn’t want the leaflet, just their phone number, she asked if they had any contacts or if she could just take the number from the leaflet. Again, no – not unless she bought it. They suggested she wait till the weekend and go to Saga Plage, where they perform on Sundays, and ask them for her number themselves. All in all, it’s clear that whatever the Burundian Tourism Office is doing, it isn’t promoting Burundi, and that if you’re a visitor in Burundi, you better have sources for what you need to know, because there’s no helping you once you’re here!

One of the things that’s wierd about Burundi is that all the money is different sizes – the biggest note, 10,000 Francs ($8), is very slightly bigger than the next biggest (5,000), which is very slightly bigger than the next biggest (2,000), which is the same size as the 1,000, which is a bit bigger than the 500, which is the same size as the 100, which is a bit bigger than the 50, which is a bit bigger than the 20, which is a bit bigger than the 10. In case you’re wondering if you read that right, the smallest note, the 10 Franc note, is indeed worth about 8 cents. And people do use them, mainly on the buses.

Even wierder than the proliferation of tiny denominations is the fact that some notes (I’ve seen it in 2,000, 1,000 and 500s, but it may occur elsewhere) come in more than one size, as you can see in the picture. The older ones are bigger, but none of us were able to work out why – if the government had been offered a deal they couldn’t refuse, if they were running short on paper, or if they just fancied a change. However, I have recently been able to confirm that the change is because Burundi is planning to introduce ATMs, and the smaller size will fit better.

Needless to say, this is awesome news. Admittedly I wouldn’t trust a Burundian ATM as far as I could throw it (same goes for anywhere else in East Africa, except maybe Rwanda), and in fairness it is possible to take money out on a Visa card. However, it involves going to one specific bank in Bujumbura, waiting at the Western Union counter with card and passport, waiting while they call your bank and fill out several forms longhand, getting a receipt, and waiting at another counter where you can exchange that for money in Dollars or Euros, which you can then exchange for Burundian Francs. As you can imagine, it isn’t exactly efficient, and this carries through to local banking as well - whenever I go to the bank it’s rammed full of people waiting, sometimes for more than an hour, at long queues at each counter to withdraw money. That’s got to waste an awful lot of man-hours, both for the banks, and the rest of the economy, so if this ever happens I would probably see it as a good thing – if they can prevent them being significant targets for robbery and if people trust them.

Courtesy of Huy, here’s another picture of Harriet Potter, the Guinea Pig Who Lived, which is pretty much the cutest thing ever. Harriet is doing well and has a nice new box - she was just in the cup to stop her running away while he cleaned the box out. Apparently though, she now really likes the cup, and (on its side) it is now a permanent feature of the box. She likes to back into it and hide - we think this may be a sign of ongoing trauma.

Better late than never, here are a couple of videos that I shot at the disarmament ceremony I visited - you can read my description of the ceremony here.

This one shows the scene just before the ceremony started - you can see the townspeople there in Sunday Best, the women’s dance group and traditional musicians waiting to perform, the drummers performing, and a group of former combatants waiting for the ceremony - as well as the weapons ready to be handed in.

Better late than never, here are a couple of videos that I shot at the disarmament ceremony I visited - you can read my description of the ceremony here. This one is a clip of a traditional Burundian women’s dance, performed by one of the best groups in the country. The musicians are in pink shirts on the right of the screen, although the women are (slightly incongruously) blowing the whistles.

Being Gay in Burundi

There’s a new report out by Human Rights Watch on Gay Rights in Burundi – which in pretty dire straits at the moment after a law passed earlier this year criminalising homosexual behaviour and making it punishable by up to two years in jail. The law was heavily promoted by the party of the President, Pierre Nkrunziza, who is, surprise surprise, a born again Christian. As well as shepherding the provision through the legislature, his party organised anti-homosexuality protests in Bujumbura. This report, which includes photographs and the stories of young gay Burundians, makes incredibly powerful reading, and I would strongly recommend it.

Unfortunately, such restrictions are far from unusual in Africa; only South Africa allows same-sex marriages, and Cape Verde, Benin, Cote d’Ivoire, Guinea-Bissau, Chad, DRC, Congo-Brazzaville, Equatorial Guinea, CAR and Gabon, Madagascar, and Rwanda allow homosexuality. That’s only 13 out of 53 countries in Africa. (Disclaimer: This information came from wikipedia). Politicians in many countries, including neighbouring Uganda, have been fairly strident in their opposition to allowing homosexuality. Uganda’s Ethics and Integrity Minister (bloated cabinets? Heaven forbid) recently claiming that it represented ‘moral destruction’ (h/t wronging rights). Even where it is legal, gays and lesbians face significant problems and discrimination – the BBC has recently produced a number of articles on the horrifying and little-punished practice of ‘corrective rape’ in South Africa.

This issue has obvious Human Rights implications, but, as the report points out, the problems caused by discrimination go deeper than a simple ban on sex. Young gay people risk economic problems if they are deliberately failed by their teachers or kicked out of home by their parents; it is this fear of economic marginalisation, as much as that of social marginalisation or retributive violence by individuals or the state, that keeps them closeted. Worse still, it creates problems in preventing HIV/AIDS, as gay people may be uniformed about how to prevent infection, or may fear going for tests, meaning the infection spreads further. This law will make things far worse – making it even harder for gay people to access information on safe sex, and making it dangerous for them to report rapes – something which, this report makes clear, is a common occurrence for both men and women.

However, because I don’t want to end on a downer, I also want to draw out something positive. Many of the young people interviewed say that even if their families have initially thrown them out, they have grown to understand, and even where they have not, others have offered help and understanding. Even in unpropitious circumstances associations are forming to support gay people and advocate for change. It may be a long time coming, but I hope that in a decade or two’s time we will look back and see these laws as the last gasp of repression.