Stuck in Pointe Noire

We have been stuck here in Pointe Noire for ten days now and counting. The process of attaining an Angolan visa is way trickier than we had anticipated, and even when (if) we get the visas there is no telling whether or not it will work out at the Cabinda border. There seems to be a disconnect between Angolan immigration law and what the Angola Consulate here is willing to do for us. Unfortunately, the process to obtain our visas has required a local influential contact and a lot of charming and pressuring. Supposedly we will have visas by tomorrow so that we can get back on track on the journey back towards South Africa. Supposedly.

The house we were staying in at first had to bounce us since it is a corporate house, so we ended up meeting a guy who runs a bar on the beach here in Pointe Noire who was happy to let us camp out for free. So, we are living at a bar for the time being. This has helped ease the pain: every morning we wake up to the ocean, a nice breeze, and have access to beers all day long to wash down our troubles. The folks running the bar are also great people and really love the idea behind the trip.

Everyone here in Pointe Noire has been exceptionally nice to us, in fact, and we've been invited for several bbq's around town. Most of our meals thus far have included dehydrated veggies, fried chicken and avocado sandwiches, so the good home cooked meals, wine, and desserts (as well as offers to let us shower and do laundry) has been more than appreciated.

We also happened to meet an Argentinian at the Angola Consulate who has been cycling around the world for about three years now. He's been all through the Americas, Europe and West Africa, and is now stuck in Pointe Noire as well as he figures out a way to get to Kinshasa, DRC to bike south to Lumbubashi, DRC--about 1500 kms. He is crazy. But his trip is incredible. He has a blog in spanish: http://www.africanbici.blogspot.com/

For now, I am slowing going crazy as we wait for the visas. Long hot days spent lazing about near the sea is surprisingly driving me mad--I want some excitement and change! By tomorrow we should hopefully know whether or not things are going to work out.

When it Rains in the Congo, Try to Avoid Driving

'Nuff said.

We stayed two nights camping in Cap Estérias, outside Libreville, with a guy who called himself Jack Daniels. Each night consisted of many a tall cold beer produced from somewhere in the bush, some sort of tasty avec type meal, and JD showing some true African style hospitality. JD’s place is about five minutes from the beach where a handful of French expats and diplomats loaf about at two exorbitantly overpriced restaurants. He’s building bungalows to rent out to travelers, and since the road to the area is undergoing a massive pavement project (currently it is all mud and potholes), by the time his place is finished he should have a good stream of people coming through.

After some hassle from the Republic of Congo Consulate, we got our visas sorted for the Congo and the Democratic Republic of Congo* and hit the road South. We slept one sweaty uncomfortable night in the trucks and had to pass numerous check points before getting to the Congo where, again, we ran into several checkpoints and had about three “official” entry passes stamped into our passports (everyone wants to make their mark!).

Passing through the Congo is beautiful, though a bit tragic. The road winds and rolls through grassy fields and naked mountains where lush jungle ought to be before bouncing into the remaining dense jungle in the mountains between Dolisie and Pointe Noire. Our first night we camped in a Makonga village about 100km from the Gabonese border. We pulled up and said, “So the road ahead is pretty rough and it is getting dark…” and a guy who looked a little like Ice Cube said, “Well then, stay here for the night!” We drank palm wine, smoked cigarettes and shared some of our dinner with our new friends who, for the most part, just stood curiously watching us and tentatively asking questions in French about what we were up to.

The next morning we left early to head towards the DRC border. We were stopped, fortunately, at a checkpoint at the Dolisie/Pointe Noire crossroads and discovered that we had punctured a tire and it was quickly going to be flat. A truck pulled up with a white passenger who said a brief “Hello” and introduced himself before ducking into a store to purchase some Cokes. Andre ended up being the first in a series of South African telecommunication saviors we’ve encountered here in the Congo. He passed us on to his associate, Derrick, who immediately began “organizing” for us. We camped out in the company warehouse, showered in his hotel room, and were directed to head to Pointe Noire where we would be met by Kristo who would show us to the ex-Minister of Defense’s mansion, the company hang-out, before Junel tried to help us sort out Cabinda and Angola visas.

Getting to Pointe Noire was a bit more of a challenge than expected, though. The road passes through dense steaming jungle in the mountains and appears to mainly be used by huge logging trucks. We passed convoys of Chinese trucks carrying road building equipment—apparently China will be building nice tarred roads in the Congo in exchange for access to timber and oil. Hmm.

We ended up slip sliding our way to Pointe Noire in about eight and a half hours (its only about 175km, which should take about half that time). It started to downpour less than halfway into our journey, and the road turned into buttery mud that proved to be quite treacherous. There was a point, when Steve Shoppman and I were sliding almost out of control down a steep hill with a huge drop off on one side that I thought how crazy this adventure is. We survived, though, and only once had to carefully maneuver one of the trucks out of a sticky situation. In Pointe Noire we met up with Kristo and were taken to the marble mansion, complete with wifi, satellite TV and a pool.

That is where we are now—trying to figure out where we can go from here. Cabinda/Angola is going to be a challenge to get to. Our visit to the consulate today was completely unsuccessful, with the guard at the gate refusing to even let us in since it was “prohibited” to get a tourist visa for overland travel in Angola. We’ll see.

*(if you are confused about the difference, the Republic of Congo, also known as Congo-Brazaville, is an ex-French whereas the DRC, formerly known as Zaire, was a Belgian colony and has one of the bloodiest and heartbreaking histories I’ve heard yet in Africa. For more information check out the descriptions of the DRC in Tim Butcher’s book Blood River: A Journey to Africa’s Broken Heart)

And we're off...almost

I am still in Libreville waiting on a visa to the DRC, and my internet time is about to go out, so this will have to be quick!

So far everything has been good. Well, other than being stopped by police for "traffic checks" and waiting forever for visas. But overall, I get along with the boys--Mark, Steve and Steve--and Gabon is nice and chilled out.

We're leaving today for the Congo, and no telling how sketchy the internet will be on the way, so expect short, if any, posts for the next month or so.

And I'm off...

This past Sunday I heard from a group that is driving around the world that I could join them. I had read a post on couchsurfer.com about their trip and after looking through their website, I though I would casually see if they didn't mind if I joined them. I never expected the answer to be yes!

So, on Monday I impulsively bought a ticket to Libreville, Gabon, and ran to the Embassy of Gabon to sort out my visa. I'll be leaving tomorrow (Friday) to meet up with them, and will spend the next 6-7 weeks driving through Western and Southern Africa back towards South Africa. This promises to be a very rough and challenging road for me (figuratively and literally), but I am looking forward to the test.

Here is a link to their website will all the details about their project, including posts and videos from the guys: http://theworldbyroad.com/

Some photos from Kliptown Creche

Here are some photos from our visit to the preschool in Soweto.

Heading back from shopping for food.
Watching the preschool students perform for the visiting group.
Playing the drums for the performers as the one and two year olds look on.
The best use of a stroller I've seen so far!

Black, White and Shades of Grey

South Africa is not simple. The persistance and tension of race issues has complicated my stay here and made navigating cultural cues nearly impossible. Everything is entangled in misperceptions, life experiences and history. I don't know how to even begin to describe my time here.

I visited the Apartheid Museum, like any good tourist, my first week here and was overwhelmed by the multimedia presentation of the rise and fall of Apartheid. The display was both inspiring and daunting. It touched on some of the intricacies of race relations here in South Africa--the distinction of Afrikaaners from other white people, the fraction of the black community into racial groups, the lack of acknowledgement of mixed race and Asian persons, and how all of these distinctions were toyed with under colonial rule. It is with this foundation that I was introduced to modern day Johannesburg and Pretoria.


Pretoria is relatively quite and staunchy, with persistant racial segregation (it used to serve as the seat of power for the Apartheid Regime, so plenty of old school Afrikaaners). I have literally encountered persons who refused to speak English to me and just went on in Afrikaans as if I was expected to know it. Luckily, I met some young folks here through couchsurfing.com who have made my time here in Pretoria feel much more vibrant. Coincidentally, there were two folks from Seattle who were couchsurfing with one of the girls in the group--small world!


I also went to Jo'burg for two days to visit another friend I made through couchsurfing.com (quite possibly the best resource I have ever stumbled across for travelers). Hendi ended up working for South African Broadcasting Corporation, although he had just quit, so most of his friends were in the music (i.e. hip hop artists, promoters, etc.), tv and film industries. Our first day was spent carting around a local emcee name Ben Sharpa and an artist from New York name Wordsworth. For dinner we met up with the whole crew of promoters, djs, artists (including the winner of the Emcee Africa competition), etc, and afterwards at the bars, folks would just buy the whole group rounds of drinks. We ended up getting fairly drunk. Ok, not fairly, REALLY drunk! That's when the trouble started. Somehow two very intoxicated girls started arguing with one of the guys and I saw how explosive racial tensions can be.

My time in Jo'burg was still fabulous, though, and I was introduced to youth subculture that I wouldn't otherwise have been aware of (who knew that hip hop, urban street artists and film could be such important vehicles for youths' voices).

Today we visited Kliptown Preschool in Soweto, one of the townships of Jo'burg. Pam, the woman who runs the show gave us a little tour of the community there, explaining what life in a shantytown is really like. I, being the over-thinking hyper-critical analyst that I am, felt quite awkward guaking at people's lives. There was a group of students from San Diego State University on an alternative spring break that came with us, and many of them were snapping photos of the kids and the shacks as if it were Disney Land. Again, I am clearly too critical!

One of the highlights of the trip was the performance put on by the children, ranging in age from one ot five. Each age group gave a short performance of songs and dances sung mostly in Zulu. The cutest part was to see the little three-year-old girls shaking their booties or the boys chopping the air and stamping their feet. Later on during the day, some folks broke out the drums and a few older kids performed some dances. The sounds of the drums made my heart go "ba-bump," and I realized I was having one of those "ahah" happy moments where I realize why life, despite all the crap, is still great.

I'm hoping to meet up with a friend who is doing Peace Corps here in South Africa before hitting up Kruger National Park and then taking of on some proper travels. Ngeyavalilisa!