The Friendly FolkDancers Tour Eastern Congo

August 8-23, 2014

Sarah Anusu (Kenya)

Rosemary Coffey (Pennsylvania, USA)

Lynne D’Angelo (California, USA)

Peter D’Angelo (California, USA)

Aline Dusabe (Rwanda)

Mark Helpsmeet (Wisconsin, USA)

Hudson Omenda (Kenya)

Antoine Samvura (Rwanda)

and

Rose Mpaji (Congo)

Guillaume Marume (Congo)

L to R: Hudson, Rosemary, Antoine, Aline, Pete, Guillaume,

Mkoko (our host), Mark, Rose, Lynne, and Sarah

Based on daily journal entries by Peter D'Angelo

plus

Contributions from the other dancers

Edited and formatted by Rosemary Coffey

We drove down the hill, turned right, and continued driving a short distance, arriving around 2:45. When we got there, only a few people were around, but, by the time the performance began, there seemed to be about 100 waiting for us to get going. Rather than a soccer pitch, our dance venue was a flat area except for one very large rock. It was bounded on one side by a very large tree whose branches hung over it, a low building that was our changing room, and some other structures. Near one edge was a structure made of four poles supporting a roof, also made of poles. Later, as we left, we saw the church building on the other side of the main street.

We started with a prayer from the pastor at Mukwezi, who welcomed us and spoke about the poverty of the region. The performance began with an introduction by Mark, followed by Shalom, Salaam, Peace. By the time it was over, the audience numbered close to 500. The program appeared to go well. Rosemary introduced and led "Savila Se Bela Losa," because Mark was still not feeling well; Sarah led “Rejoice, Rejoice,” in both English and Swahili. Then the locals performed a dance for us, with several of our group joining in. The pastor offered a final prayer asking for the grace of God for us and wishing us a good trip.

The evaluation from Kiza Musato, President of the Monthly Meeting of Msenya, read as follows:

            The spectators came from Mukwezi, Msenya, and Kagumbe. They were joyous and enthusiastic about this long-awaited event. Among the audience were children and adults.

            The costumes of our brothers and sisters, dancers for peace, show that you are dancers and artisans of peace who present peace through your dances and costumes, along with prayer here with us. In your dances, we have received a message. For example, two people dance together and then move apart, weaving in and out of the group; at the end, they find each other again, clasp hands, and continue to dance together. The rhythms of the music and the dances are well coordinated. The group respected the rules of gender. The songs and the dances were joyous. But you should have had some young people as part of the group of dancers for peace.

            Recommendations:

·         Repeat and extend the program here in Congo.

·         Help us build a school where the children of different ethnic groups can come to study in a context of living together and taking actions on behalf of peace.

·         Pay us another visit here.

·         Donate to the church musical instruments to facilitate the explanations and understanding of dances and games at the heart of our parishes.

            Remarks: One of you removed your costume before the program was over! N.B.: Despite the impending game of football that was organized in the village between two local teams, the population evidently, and unexpectedly, preferred to participate massively in the dance program.

We left at 4:20, and in a few minutes were back home. Earlier in the day, Guillaume had said that he and his colleague would change Lynne’s dressing after the performance, and there they were, walking back down the road toward the hospital. They took Lynne and Pete to the surgery room, where they had been before, and changed the dressing, observing that, if Lynne been younger, she would have healed faster and they would have removed the stitches on Monday. However, since she was older, she was healing more slowly; thus they planned to remove the stitches on Wednesday

Dinner was ready relatively early at 7:00. After dinner we joined Mkoko and others for prayers, including one for Mark’s health. Then we began a business meeting with check-ins. Guillaume thought that Mark, who had been suffering from diarrhea, might also have a fever. He left to get a thermometer. He returned with a colleague, who put a flexible strip thermometer on Mark’s forehead. Mark's temperature appeared to be at the high end of normal. Two aides then showed up, one carrying a red plastic box. They took a blood sample to check for malaria and typhoid, deciding to let him be at least until tomorrow. Then we finished our meeting and watched a couple of videos of the day’s performance before heading off to our respective beds.

Monday, August 18, 2014

Abeka (Mboko)

We had breakfast early, around 8:00 o’clock, in order to be able to leave promptly for Mboko. We realized, when another man, hitherto unknown to us (but probably the guy who was going to run the sound system), tried to join us in the back of the van, that it was not possible to fit 11 people where there was officially room for only 8, though we had been 10 for many of our previous trips. In time, arrangements were made for a motorcycle to get him where we were going. The rest of us actually got underway before 9:00.

There was a lot of dust rising from the unpaved but relatively straight road, which made it hard for some of us to breathe, but we went barreling down it nonetheless at some 35 mph. At one point we came to a small river where the bridge was out, so we had to ford the creek.

When we arrived at Mboko, we went straight to the administrative office of the Tanganyika Sector, where we met the secretary of the area. His boss, the sector chief, was not there. We had hoped to go out to visit a little island called Bulumba, the largest of three islands about 3 miles offshore, but without the sector chief’s permission, we couldn’t go.

But we headed over to Lake Tanganyika anyway. Aline and Sarah took off their shoes and waded at the water’s edge. After listening to some legends about the islands, we returned to the van and drove to the nearby Lac (Lake) Hotel. We were shown into a courtyard, with a small amount of shade in a small enclosure, and encouraged to rehearse. However, the sun was hot, and we were simply not inspired to leave the little shelter and go outside. After a while Fantas were brought to us. A few of us danced a bit in the hot sunshine.

Around 11:40, Mkoko found us a space across the street where there was shade under a large tree. We rehearsed without Mark's participation. He was feeling better than yesterday, but still not at 100%, so he directed from his seat. Occasionally, he would get up and demonstrate a step. We practiced until 1:15, re-arranging the line-ups, with Aline in front for several of the dances. Then we visited quietly until 2:00, when lunch was announced. It was served at a place slightly behind and next to the hotel. When we went inside, there were three tables with chairs, and a table on which the food had been placed. Lunch was similar to previous lunches, with chicken for protein and a fresh salad of cabbage and tomatoes, plus the usual rice, beans, cassava, and bananas.

After lunch, a pastor spoke about the programs for peace in the area, including the construction of a House of Peace and another building for the United Society of Friends Women (USFW) in Nundu. They are hoping to construct the roof of a new church by October; we were encouraged to urge Friends abroad to join together to help them finish the work. We were to take their greetings to our countries. There did not seem to be time to visit the construction site, but the pastor suggested that perhaps we could go see it on our next visit. Or they might take some photos and send them to us via the Internet. Mkoko then indicated that we might see the buildings tomorrow on our way to the next performance. He encouraged those in attendance to let their friends know about it.

We got back into the Land Cruiser and drove a short distance to the next venue. It was a roped-off area in front of some buildings, one of which was to be our dressing room. About a hundred feet away from the area was the church. We actually arrived at the appointed hour for the first time (hurray!). We went to our dressing room, which was a very small room divided in half by a hanging sheet or cloth. On one side of the cloth there was a mattress on the ground. Above it was a mosquito net. The other side was empty except for three jerry cans that smelled of diesel and some farming tools. Functional space in the room was tight, but we changed into our costumes as usual. Then we went outside and waited for the local chief of the locality to join us. Our hosts were very thoughtful: using numerous five-gallon pails full of water, they sprinkled the ground to keep the dust down.

In due course, the local chief arrived and welcomed us in French. The local pastor, a very tall, thin man, said an opening prayer. Then he put his arm around Mkoko, who was translating, and said how wonderful it was that two different tribes had come together for this occasion – one from the hills and the other from the flatlands. He illustrated his point by hugging Mkoko, over whom he towered, as they came from the two tribes.

Mark made the initial introductions, after which we performed the Shalom, Salaam, Peace suite. Rosemary introduced the wedding suite, which we performed next, as usual. There was a royal mix-up finding our places for “I Love a Rainy Night”; we hoped to do better at the next perform-ance. During the participation dancing, we did “Syp Simeon” and then “Les Saluts,” the latter for the first time. Both went well. We concluded with English and Swahili versions of “Rejoice, Rejoice,” and then watched some dancing by the locals to familiar tunes. A few of us joined in. Mark, alas, tripped over the microphone cord at one point, and the mike later stopped working. We hoped it would be back in service by our next performance. As for the audience, we guessed it numbered several hundred, including lots of little ones but numerous adults as well.

When our performance was over, we sat down and the Congolese danced for us. As always, their dancing was energetic.

The evaluation, signed by Makeci Lweya, Teacher, read as follows:

            The group of Friends dancing for peace arrived at the agreed-upon hour. The sun was not overwhelmingly hot. As they descended from the van, the people waiting for them asked themselves, How will this intergenerational group, coming from different countries with different cultures, manage to dance well together? The head of the group, a large gentleman, responded to the worries of the people in his introductory remarks. As they came out of the little house, with their blue and white costumes, we saw directly that they were well-organized artisans of peace and people of prayer. The large gentleman was definitely in charge and shared his particular experiences with us. He was easily able to get the attention of his team. The introductory words were constructive and edifying, calling on the Congolese to accept living in unity in diversity. It's not that easy for people who come from different countries to dance together. We offer flowers to our brothers and sisters of the group of dancers for peace.

            There was a message of peace in the wedding dances. It was good to have the young bride sit on a chair rather than stand up, as if she were the daughter of a king. It would also have been good to include African songs and dances among those presented to the audience.

            In his speech to the assembled spectators, the chief of the region tried to tell people that here the war had ended and there is peace between Mubembe and Munyamurenge. In closing, he told the large gentleman that Congo continued to need help from foreigners to facilitate programs of peace. People truly appreciated the dances brought by the foreigners today.

            The ceremony ended with a prayer.

            Recommendations:

·         Having a similar program here among us, accompanied by musical instruments, would be useful for the consolidation of peace among different ethnic groups in the zone of Fizi.

·         Under those circumstances, we should think about building an auditorium for such programs on behalf of peace in order to avoid the dust in the dry season and rain in the rainy season.

·         We should think about accompanying such programs with communitarian activities accompanying peace.

·         It would be good to install a system for learning the dances of the FFD here among us.

We finally left at 5:50. We made it back to our quarters in good time and found dinner waiting for us. Eventually, people took showers and got ready for bed. Mark and Rosemary had an interesting conversation with Mkoko, who turns out to have grown up in Burundi, about how Quakerism got to the Congo; basically, it was through him, as he found out about it through Burundian Friends and imported it as a response to local conflicts. That explains, in part, why Congolese Friends are so dependent on assistance from Friends everywhere, since they were not founded by missionaries from a particular country or region.

Mark announced that his test for typhoid was positive. We wondered if he actually had typhoid or if it was just the result of his having had a typhoid shot a few days before he left home.

Water was brought for the evening ablutions. As Pete and Lynne were showering, the lights flickered and then went out. Fortunately, Lynne had her flashlight with her. Rosemary ended up journaling on Pete's computer by using his headlamp to light up the keyboard.

Tuesday, August 19, 2014

Abeka (Sangaya)

About 7:00 a.m. the sound of women ululating came from the area of the hospital. Mkoko explained to Pete, with whom he was sitting outside, that it was a sign that a baby had just been born. He asked Pete if he'd like to see; upon hearing “Yes,” they charged down the hill to the hospital. There they saw four women standing in front of the building that contained the maternity ward. They very obligingly ululated for Pete, so that he could take a video of them. Mkoko learned that the baby was a little girl.

During breakfast, which began around 8:30, Mkoko came to tell us the program for the day, beginning with a visit to the hospital where Guillaume and Rose (a nurse) worked, just down the road. Hudson demonstrated his domestic skills by sewing up his own pants. Before we left, we had a brief meeting to discuss the disposal of the ten FFD tee-shirts that Mark had brought along; we agreed that we wanted our African members and our hosts to have them, with the issue of who would get which sizes to be determined later. While we were out, somebody was supposed to fix the toilet, which was stopped up.

We headed off for the hospital visit, led by Guillaume, except for Hudson, who needed some time off. We saw the building where the interns sleep, noting that males and females had to share the five rooms, with beds or mattresses in each. We also saw a grave nearby. Guillaume explained that it was the resting place of the first doctor at the hospital, a younger brother of Mkoko, who had paid for his medical education. Unfortunately, he died at the age of 33, after only eight months at the hospital, in September of 2008. Guillaume arrived to replace him in November of that year. When he arrived, there was no materiel at the hospital, as everything had been stolen in the meantime.

Guillaume showed us the hole where the placentas were buried. He also pointed out the toilets and showers that he had insisted be constructed nearby. They continued to have a problem getting water. One creek, which was contaminated, was used for water for laundry and other such purposes; the other one was used to provide water for drinking and for sanitary uses at the hospital. They had four cisterns to collect rainwater during the wet season.

We visited the waiting room for emergency treatment, where triage was carried out. There was a chart showing the number of patients per month and the income received in US dollars, but it was for 2013, not for the current year. There appeared to be far more patients during the rainy season than during the dry season … maybe because the rain brings mosquitoes, and the mosquitoes bring disease. There were other offices for administrators and nurses, and a laboratory with a microscope and an open window admitting lots of dust into the area.

Three women were sitting outside the maternity building. They were friends of the woman who had given birth that morning. The new mother was lying on a bed in the recovery room, with her newborn baby girl named Rosemary. There were an empty post-partum room and a birthing room. Of the six beds we saw, only three had mattresses. We visited the operating room, with which Pete and Lynne were already familiar.

In the delivery room we saw what looked like a chest freezer that had been donated by USAID. It was a cold storage area for medicines, but we were told that there was no electricity at night to maintain the temperature. Next to it on the floor were four car batteries connected in parallel that were presumably used to run the freezer. There was a birthing table, one part of which was covered with plastic. When Guillaume pulled it back, we saw a small hole in the table’s covering revealing the foam underneath. The birthing table was also given by USAID. We saw a place to put the baby immediately after birth. Three midwives were available to assist the doctor.

In an adjoining room there were beds, but no patients. A discussion (in French, with occasional translation) ensued about birthing practices. Guillaume’s colleague, who was with us throughout the tour, told of one tribe that wants the man to have intercourse with his wife while she is in labor. He explained the scientific benefits that could occur. Women who had a normal vaginal birth were kept at the hospital for three days, while those who had a Caesarean stayed for a week, mostly because, if they were allowed to go home sooner, they would have to go back to work too early. About 40 percent of the births are Caesarean, because they get the most difficult birth cases. Most assisted births occur at health centers rather than at hospitals.

As we left, we noticed a chain of beads hanging from the wall, mostly black or white, with one red one. This represented the pattern for taking birth control pills for women who could not read. The black ones were for the time of non-fertility; the white, for fertility. The single red bead was when the first pill should be taken. There was a ring that served as a moveable marker to keep track of where the woman was in her cycle. Guillaume explained that birth control pills were offered only to women whose husbands concurred. As we left, we noticed newly washed but presumably previously used rubber gloves laid out in the sun to dry, as well as two facemasks.

We also visited the pediatric building, where there were several small children. If they felt well enough, they were playing outside with their mothers; otherwise, they were in one of the five interior rooms. It looked as though most of the family’s possessions were also outside, perhaps in order to avoid contaminating the rooms.

Around 11:20 the group headed down the road for about 25 minutes to visit the Trauma Center, with the exception of Lynne and Pete, who went back to their room to rest. The others reported that they saw a lot of charts and tables and heard a summary of the Center’s activities from one of its staff members, who spoke about the different kinds of trauma and the different ways they would approach clients depending on their issues. According to what we saw on the walls, they were using some of the approaches initiated by HROC (Healing and Reconciling Our Communities) in other East African countries. Many of those who had been traumatized had survived massacres in nearby villages. There were four rooms, used for different purposes, including individual confidential counseling, medical treatment, and prayer. We also viewed the register of cases for 2013 and 2014 to-date; clients seemed to range from 16 to 46 years in age.

Lunch, beginning around 12:30, was outside. We left right afterwards for Sangya, stopping several times on the way. The first time was to fill some bottles with water from a spring. At that spot, a very large truck was having its flat tire changed. While we were getting water, a white man came down the hill and looked around for a minute or so before disappearing. He was the only other white person we had seen since we got off the plane in Bujumbura.

We stopped another time to look at the initial construction of a new Friends church in Nundu, on a hilltop that reminded Mark of his visit to Pendle Hill in England, 20 years ago. The local pastor said he would ask his Meeting to consider changing its name from Nundu to Pendle Hill. The foundation of the new building had been laid in 2008, but the walls were still being built with locally made bricks. While we were there, two men came up carrying bricks on top of their heads. The bricks are much larger than the standard in the US. They were also fired at a lower temperature and appeared soft. The brick mason used a large knife to true and trim them. The pastor explained the big plans that they had to construct even more buildings.

As we were on top of a hill, we could see all around. Below us were palm tree plantations. Across the water was Bulumba Island, which we had intended to visit the previous day. At the request of various people, Pete took lots of group photographs, and even one of a walking stick.

We next drove to the Nundu Hospital. With a church official walking in front of the Land Cruiser, we drove slowly down a path to a small group of houses. We parked in front of the largest, the home of a local church official who invited us to have a drink and something to eat. We were ushered into his living room. There were several love seats and chairs. At one end were a sideboard and a covered table. At the other end were a very large speaker and two TVs. On that wall were various religious posters showing a very white Jesus and Mary. On another wall were several maps – the world, Africa, and the Congo.

After we all sat down, the church leader welcomed us. Then the table was uncovered and we were treated to pineapple chunks, bananas, and a case of Fanta, after which we were driven to Sangya, the spot where we were to perform. As usual, it was a roped-off area with plastic chairs for us to sit in. We were met by what seemed like hundreds of small children crying “mzungu, mzungu” (white person, white person)! Adjacent to the roped-off area was a house with a small room that was to be our dressing room. The floor was dirt, with mud in a few spots. At one end, there were three five-gallon water containers; in the middle of another wall was a small wood-fired cooking “stove” with a small pot on it. Several small rooms opened off it. We put our costume bag on a bench, spreading one pocket bag on top of the 5-gallon jerry cans and hanging the other over the door. We had a group of small kids watching us while we changed.

When we were ready, we went out and took our seats. There was an opening prayer with the audience and introductions. Mark spoke. Then we did our dances as usual, followed by “Syp Simeon” (led by Mark) and “Les Saluts” (led by Rosemary). Sarah led the closing dance, “Rejoice, Rejoice,” in both English and Swahili. Then the locals danced and sang, with a few of us joining in. These dances, we learned from some of the women, were from one tribe only, even though others were present. This meant that they could not participate, and they were not happy about it. When we mentioned this to Mkoko, he said they didn’t have music from those other peoples, so we suggested that he explain that the next time, so people would understand.

The evaluation, signed by Munguatabale Franco, Clerk of the CEEACO Church in Sangya, made the following points:

1.  The dancers arrived at the appointed time.

2.  The costumes worn by our dancers were adapted to the people of Africa, above all to the Congolese.

3.  The dancers performed without actually singing; they danced according to the rhythms of the songs.

4.  The dancers were respectful of the Congolese and did not treat them as if they were barbarians.

5.  The spectators were interested in the gestures and the dances of our dancers, as the dances expressed peace, reconciliation, and pacification.

            Recommendation: Congo is among the countries that have been greatly threatened by war. Given that the folk dances presented were so great, they truly expressed peace and peace making.

            We invite our dancers to come back to inspire us and teach us these dances, as the Congolese people are so constant and courageous. We were happy to see you here among us, my folk dancing friends.

We finished up about 5 o’clock and headed back to our quarters in Abeka, where we rested or chatted until dinner arrived shortly after 7. After dinner, we had just gotten to bed when the lights dimmed and went out. The kerosene lamp was lit. When Rosemary finished bathing, the lamp was turned off and we went to sleep.

Wednesday, August 20, 2014

Abeka (Lweba)

After breakfast beginning at 7:40, and mindful of a departure time of 8:00, we picked up bag lunches, consisted of two bananas and a choice of soft drink, which were waiting for us on a table outside. We actually took off closer to 8:30 and drove for half an hour. Our first stop of the day was in a little village, where the driver got out and disappeared for a few minutes. Then we continued on until we came to a long bridge across a small gorge in which a river flowed. Women were washing clothes upstream. The bridge was made of steel beams parallel to the side of the road and covered with wooden planks, most of which were missing. Motorcyclists had to cross the bridge very carefully, making sure to keep their tires on the steel beams.

A few minutes later we came to Sangaya, the site of our previous day’s performance, where our soundman, along with the sound equipment, was waiting for us. While the equipment was being loaded on top, Mark, Lynne, and Pete, along with a local church member, took a tour through the nearby market. Women were selling various beans, fruits and vegetables, and fish, some of which came from Tanzania. Mark bought a number of small plastic bags of peanuts.

Back in the car we drove for a few minutes to Katungulu, where we walked up a road between houses to a Quaker Peace Center. We came upon several buildings – the one made of gray bricks was a church, while another made of red bricks was a counseling center. Inside the latter were three hand-written lists posed on the wall with titles reading Principles of Counseling, Psychological Consequences of Emotionality, and The Methods in the Process of Counseling. A printed poster announced: You are the Victim of Emotional Violence. Off this large room were several small offices. When we looked in the church, we saw that it was decorated as if there had been a wedding. The benches in the church were pieces of bamboo that were periodically spaced on a bamboo frame. Walking several hundred feet to a large clearing, we saw a foundation that was the outline of a large building. Across from it were a number of jumbled piles of gray brick sitting in ashes. Behind the bricks and to the side were two rooms that were under construction.

We were greeted and told about the area. It was the site of the Quaker school that had been started several years ago. Originally, the classrooms were made out of thatch. Unfortunately, some boys had unintentionally started a fire that burned down the thatch, accounting for the ashes in which the gray bricks were sitting. The two rooms being built in the background were the new classrooms, which they hoped to finish before the rainy season. The school initially had 150 students, a number that dropped to 120 when the rains came. The foundation outline nearby was going to be the new church. They also had a peace group in place that was trying to unite the tribes in the area.

Moving to the counseling center, where a number of chairs had been set up, we sat down for an opening prayer that included a warm welcome. A woman with a chicken in a basket presented it to Mark, expressing her thanks for our visit on behalf of the USFW (United Society of Friends Women). She asked that we tell others about the center and its need. Mark responded, and the basket was brought over and placed on the bench near us.

When our meeting broke up, there was some concern about what to do with the chicken. Hudson picked it up, finding that it was tethered to the basket. He broke the tether, put the chicken under his arm, and walked out. Mark brought along the basket, which was woven from palm fronds. He asked Pete to take pictures of it, as he thought his wife, Sandra, would be interested in the construction.

We returned to the Land Cruiser, where the chicken was tucked in a corner in the back. By 10:30 we were on our way again. The road had deteriorated somewhat; in some spots there were deep depressions. We had to ford a wide stream where the bridge had failed. At 11:00 we arrived in Lweba, the site of our performance. We drove to the venue, a dirt patch in front of some buildings. The sound equipment and our soundman were dropped off. Then we continued to Baraka, arriving there at 11:50.

In Baraka we were in a different sector, that of Makubala. We reported to the administrative office, where we were welcomed by the secretary to the chief of the area. After spending a few minutes with him, we returned to the Land Cruiser, where we ate our now partially squashed bananas and drank our sodas. Just down the block from the office was the Information Technology and Communication Center, surrounded by a high brick wall topped by razor wire. Sticking out of the compound was a very tall communications tower. Access was through a small door that was part of a bigger gate. Inside was a courtyard that separated two buildings, in one of which was a cyber café. The Internet connection was very, very slow. Most of us were able to access g-mail, though Rosemary, for one, gave up on trying to get onto AOL.

When we had all finished, we got back in the car and drove to the nearby Quaker radio station, Radio Lwenge. (Lwenge means “light” in the local dialect.) It turned out that we could not enter until we were cleared by security, so we drove to the security office. The officer in charge was a bit officious. He wanted to see our passports, and then had Mkoko make photocopies of all the front pages. While Mkoko was gone, Mark talked to the official and even showed him videos of us dancing. Finally, Mkoko came back with the photocopies and we received permission to visit the radio station. It turned out to consist of one room divided in half by a curtain. On one side of the curtain was a microphone; on the other side were a mixer, a transmitter, and one other item. The station put out 300 watts in the FM band. It operated only in the morning and evening. Since we were there in the middle of the day, it was not on the air.

Back in the Land Cruiser, we drove through town to the site of a Quaker church and school in Baraka. The school consisted of four classrooms, one of which stored bricks. Although the church has only 70 members, 270 students attend morning or afternoon sessions.

We then drove out of Baraka, back to Lweba and the venue for our performance. It was 3:00 p.m. When we got there, the music was blaring from the speaker, and a few people were milling around. We got out of the van, but a few moments later were told to get back in, as we had to drive a few hundred feet in reverse in the direction of Baraka, before turning down a dirt road through the houses until we came to a red brick building that stood out among the gray brick houses. Pete and Lynne wandered inside, noticing that the floor in the entrance was brick. There was one large room with a concrete floor and a table lined up against the wall with bottles of Fanta and several covered pots. There were also three tables with chairs. Lunch!

Outside, a hand-washing station had been set up. After a woman poured water over our hands, we soaped them, and then she poured water over them again to rinse them. For lunch we had mashed plantains, sliced tomatoes, cabbage, chicken pieces, rice, beans, a sauce, and bananas. Some of the local men picked up the chairs in which we had been sitting and walked off towards the venue. We drove over in the van, arriving just after the men with the chairs.

It was now 3:50, which meant that we, as usual, were late. We were shown a room in a nearby building that was to be our changing area. It was a little larger than some of the others and worked nicely. We got dressed and went out for our final performance.

Once we were seated, there was prayer. Then we were welcomed. Mark encouraged the crowd to repeat “I love a rainy night," which they did. [The crowd always did, but when the time came to sing it, they seldom participated!] Guillaume joined us for the first time in our first suite, Shalom, Salaam, Peace. After we changed the outer parts of our costumes, we followed with the wedding suite and then the participation dances. As always, we led with "Syp Simeon," this time followed by "Savila se Bela Losa." Finally, we closed with "Rejoice, Rejoice, Again I Say Rejoice," led by Sarah in English and Swahili. When we sat down, the locals danced for us. One older lady got Hudson up to dance. At the end, after we had changed, Mark talked about peace and led some prayers.

The evaluation, signed by Byaunda Watata, Byawa's – Jules II, CEEACO Secretary of Lweba Parish, read as follows:

            Our dancing friends arrived very much behind the appointed time, justified by their attention to the interests of CEEACO. The team proved the opposite of what we had expected, because it was composed only of older people in contrast to Congolese dance groups, which are composed of young people. The old guy with the beard told us we should never leave peacemaking to others, that it was everybody's responsibility regardless of age or tribe. Knowing and performing the dances of others reinforces unity, co-existence, and love. This attitude should inspire the different ethnic groups of the zone of Fizi and the entire Congo to accept each other and live in peace. The dancers' costumes, their dances, and their eloquence showed us that they are all peacemakers.

            One good thing, and a lesson learned, is that we understand that in dancing all the different ethnic groups are joined to the point where it can be difficult to disentangle them.

            The length of time for the dance demonstration was good. The dancers danced well except for a few times when they were a bit far away from the rhythms of the music, because they're so old. But it wasn't all that easy to see.

            We call for your return here in 2016 in order to pay the debt of Baraka and elsewhere. Please think also about bringing the tools of peace to us. To finish, we say "Thank you," and please help us bring to fruition some of projects we are undertaking here.

We finally left shortly after 6 p.m., as it was getting dark. Soon we were driving in true darkness. Everything was going fine until we came to the Tanganyika Sector boundary, where there was a rope across the road. We had to wait until someone came to lower it. We finally got back to our compound at 7:30, where we found dinner waiting for us. For the first time we had ugali, a white corn mush very popular in Kenya and similar to polenta. Lights were out about 9:45.

Thursday, August 21, 2014

Abeka to Uvira

After breakfast, which was ready around 9:00, Lynne and Pete walked down to the hospital to have Lynne's stitches removed. Outside of the building where the surgery was, a man wearing gloves was squatting on the ground washing surgical instruments. They found Guillaume and Rose and went into the surgery. Guillaume explained that they had done a c-section at 7:00 a.m. as soon as it was light enough to see.

After collecting the materiel he needed, Guillaume removed the dressing, revealing the wound. The area around its margin was gray, as it was necrotic, presumably due to poor circulation. Guillaume removed the stitches and put on a new dressing, telling Lynne to leave it on for five days before replacing it herself.

Meanwhile, Rosemary noticed with dismay that yesterday's chicken was tethered to a bench, with both its feet still tied together. It couldn't run away, but neither could it move. Hudson came to the rescue, removing the string around the feet, but leaving the bird attached to the bench. At least that way it could walk up and down! We were told that it would need some time to get used to the place and not run away when it was finally freed.

Back at our quarters, we decided that this was the time for the group picture. We all changed into our costumes for the Middle East suite, with Lynne wearing the makeshift costume we had put together for her once she was able to resume dancing with us. [See photo on cover page.] We took a number of group photos, after which Mark gave out FFD t-shirts to those members of our group who didn’t already have them. We exchanged our costumes for t-shirts for another set of photos, after which Pete packed all the costumes and the pockets away for the last time.

At 11:00 we loaded up the Land Cruiser and took off about 20 minutes later, stopping almost immediately to visit a brickyard. First we came to the storage area for the finished product – stacks of hexagonal brick floor tiles and stacks of curved brick roofing tiles. At the production area, we looked down into a pit from which clay had been excavated for making bricks. To our right, on the ground, were several hundred recently made bricks drying. In front of us was a mound of stacked bricks about 10 feet high, 8 feet wide, and 10 feet deep, on top of which were two men carefully arranging bricks as more were being tossed up to them. At the base of the stack there were chambers running through where a fire could be built. What we were seeing was, of course, a brick oven under construction. When it was finished the bricks would be fired. Nearby were large stacks of wood.

The foreman, a Burundian, explained the process to us. He had been brought here to teach brick making to the Congolese. Demonstrating how the bricks were made, he uncovered a mound of gray clay that had previously been prepared. Picking up a mold that could make two bricks at a time, he dusted it off and put it on a table. Then he dug out a large ball-shaped amount of clay from the mound, put the clay in the mold, and evened it off with a small board. After tapping the mold on the side to release the bricks, he deposited the newly made bricks on the ground.

We were back on the road at noon, arriving in Kigongo shortly thereafter. Mkoko and Pete headed up a path through houses in search of the Quaker church and school. After going quite a distance, they came to the brick church building with a locked yellow door. Someone appeared and unlocked it. Inside there were some benches, with a table and two chairs near the front. Two drums were hanging on the wall. On a table below the drums were two open boxes on long sticks used as collection plates. Lying against one wall was a blackboard. The other dancers soon appeared, and then some local church leaders showed up. They told us about the church and the church school, which has some 200 students. The school building, consisting of two classrooms, was across from the church. All that was in the first classroom was a blackboard, with 16/06/2014 – the last day of school – still written in one corner. In the other classroom was a mound of bricks. Nearby they were building two more classrooms. We were told that the bricks, which were to be used for the new building, would be out of the classroom by the time school started. We returned to the Land Cruiser and resumed our journey about 1:40.

At 2:00 we stopped at the port of Kovo. Since Sarah and Hudson needed yellow fever certificates in order to get back into Kenya, with Guillaume leading the way they went to get their yellow fever shots. Before reaching the outskirts of Uvira, where once again we were on pavement, we stopped to buy water. We finally got back to the Peace Center at 3:00. We unloaded the Land Cruiser and went to the dining hall for lunch, which was brought in at 3:30. Afterwards, Mark and Mkoko went in search of an Internet café, while the rest of us rested!

Late in the afternoon we headed for the local Peace Garden to have our final briefing. We wound our way down through the village until we came to the brick-walled Auberge la Marguerite, Jardin de Kiyaya. When we stepped through the gate, it was like going from a black and white movie to one in Technicolor. We saw green grass, and flower beds with plants. The buildings were im-aginatively designed and decorated. We were led to a lawn on which chairs had been set up. Around us were small dining rooms, closed off by drapes, each bearing the name of a soccer team.

Mkoko told us we could order soft drinks, which were brought to us cold. As the sun set, we had our debriefing session, with each of us sharing how we felt. By the time it was over, it was 8:00 o'clock and dark out. Lynne had brought her flashlight, but we were wondering how we were going to make our way back up the hill in the dark. Fortunately when we exited the hotel our Land Cruiser was waiting for us. It was a short drive back to the Peace Center.

Dinner was at 8:30, after which we returned to our rooms to pack. Mkoko, Rosemary, and Mark joined the D'Angelos to hear about Mkoko's proposal for a peace band and dance group made up of people from various tribes. He also talked about being a liberal evangelical Quaker among more conservative ministers. He vision was to reach out to the community regardless of the beliefs of any particular members.

Our meeting was interrupted by Antoine and Aline, who gave the Americans gifts – to the men a key chain with an African carving; to the women a little woven bracelet. They also had hand-decorated cards with greetings to us written in English. Everyone was in bed by 10:15.

Friday, August 22, 2014

Uvira, DRC, to Bujumbura, Burundi, and Home

Breakfast was served at 8:00; by 9:00 we were loading the van. We drove straight to the border, a trip that took no more than 20 minutes. At the Congolese immigration station, we had to get in line and await our turn. After we turned over our passports, Mkoko helped us answer the questions asked by the immigration officer, who scanned the passports and entered some information on a computer. Then, after our left thumb and index finger were scanned, one at a time, the official passed the passports over to a second person who stamped them.

Once we had all cleared immigration, we said goodbye to Guillaume and Rose and headed toward the bridge over the creek that separates the two countries. We stopped to take pictures under the sign that read Goodbye to the DRC. It was 10:00 o'clock. After crossing over, we went to the Burundian immigration station, where our passports were checked in one office and stamped in another.

Meanwhile the van had been driven over from the Congolese side. A local taxi backed up to it and some of our luggage was transferred, while some of us got in. A second taxi replaced the first, and the rest of our bags were loaded into it. Once everyone was seated, we headed toward the bus station. The road on the Burundian side of the border was paved, except that in some places the pavement was broken up. We came upon a small crew that was fixing the potholes by filling them with dirt and then using a small roller to compress it.

Once we reached downtown Bujumbura, we drove along the paved main street, turning off into the local market area. We arrived at the bus station a little after 11:00, and Antoine went to get tickets to Kigali for himself and Aline. We said our good-byes and the remainder of the group drove back through the market and more of the town itself, passing a park named Independence Place. Nearby was a very large hotel in various stages of construction, with the name on top reading (in English): Waterfront Hotel. It was nowhere near the water, as far as we could see.

We stopped at a nearby hotel and tried to find a way to download Pete's photos onto Mkoko's new laptop, but there were assorted connection problems and an unexpectedly large cache of videos taken by Guillaume. (Later Pete was able to download the videos from the last three days, Aug. 16-18.) Lunch at 12:30 was a buffet featuring a salad of avocado, beets, tomatoes, cabbage, and spiral macaroni, potatoes, rice, plantains, string beans, spinach, spaghetti, and beef cooked in a sauce. We also had napkins for the first time. When it came time to pay, we were charged by the piece, but the individual bills were quite modest.

A van arrived to take us to the airport. It had a very small trunk, but we managed to get most of the bags in it. In the back Rosemary, Sarah, and Mkoko sat with luggage under their feet, on their laps, and pressing against their heads. Hudson, Lynne, and Pete sat in the middle, Hudson with a suitcase under his feet and a pack on his lap, and the D'Angelos with packs on their laps. Mark sat in front with the driver.

It was a short drive to the airport. Before we were admitted into the area, however, we had to get out of our vehicle to be wanded; the underside of the vehicle was searched, as was the interior. Under a nearby tree were two soldiers, one with a machine gun pointed at the entrance.

Once we were parked, we unloaded the vehicle. Again we were wanded before entering the facility, where our baggage was scanned. Proceeding to the check-in counter, we saw that there was no computer – everything was being done by hand. The man checking in the D'Angelos had a problem with the code for Virgin American and had to ask someone. (For the record, it is VX.) He filled out the luggage tag by hand and checked the D'Angelos through to SFO. He used a copy of the itinerary that I had as my ticket and attached the luggage receipts to it. He then took it over to another desk. At still another desk they were checked off a list and given handwritten boarding passes through to Washington-Dulles. Rosemary and Mark had similar experiences.

From there we walked to immigration, where our passports were stamped and our bags screened again. When we finished, it was 2:45 and passengers were already boarding the plane to Addis Ababa via Kigali, Rwanda. We all took our seats, with Rosemary next to Pete and Lynne and the others scattered elsewhere. The plane took off at 3:05 for the short flight to Kigali, where we spent about 40 minutes on the ground before resuming our 2½-hour flight to Addis. We arrived without incident at 10:15 p.m. Hudson and Sarah left the group at that time, as they were booked on another flight from Addis Ababa to Nairobi.

When we exited the plane, we realized that the handwritten boarding passes we received in Bujumbura did not have our seat assignments. We wandered from one counter to another, but were unsuccessful in getting them corrected. Meeting up with Hudson and Sarah, we all went to the departure hall to wait. Eventually, we got into a long line at the end of which we were to get a colored sticker on our ticket to indicate boarding order, but there was just one person working the desk and a very long line. By the time we made it to the head of the queue, the agent pointed us towards another line, which was for actual boarding. It was already 10:00 p.m. local time, which was when the plane for Washington-Dulles (via Rome, by the way) was supposed to take off. When we got to the head of this second line, we were stopped, as our boarding passes didn’t have seat assignments, which we still had to have written out. Rosemary, in particular, was very disappointed to find herself in a middle seat, despite having had her original assignment to a window seat confirmed more than once. We finally pushed back at 11:15 – an hour and fifteen minutes late. Our landing in Rome at 4:05 a.m. was, however, only thirty-five minutes late. We were not allowed off the plane, which resumed traveling around 5:15. After an uneventful flight, during most of which we slept on and off, we landed in Washington at 8:03 a.m., almost half an hour earlier than the scheduled 8:30 landing. (The pilot said that we had good tail winds.)

When we exited the plane, we came on two mobile lounges. One was for passengers in transit, while the other was for passengers who were not in transit. Rosemary and Mark had hoped that, once they had picked up their suitcases, Rosemary would be able to transfer to him the one that held the costumes, so that he could take it back to Wisconsin with him. But he was staying overnight in DC, so they were not in the same lounge. [The following week, she sent it north via UPS, after washing all the contents, so it did make it "home."]

We all made our connecting flights in due course, and Antoine and Aline reported back that their bus trip home had been uneventful. Another tour by The Friendly FolkDancers had come to a successful end!

Les Danseurs Folkloriques des Amis

Dansant le monde ensemble

Bienvenue à la tournée des Danseurs Folkloriques des Amis ayant lieu en août de 2014 à la République Démocratique du Congo! Notre spectacle est une prière physique pour la paix, un vrai "mouvement de paix." Pendant que nous exécutons des danses ou menons les spectateurs à la danse, nous essayons de connaître les personnes d'autres pays du monde. C'est notre travail de paix.

Notre présentation se compose des ensembles de danses des peuples et des régions qui sont, ou ont été, à la guerre. Nous les unissons symboliquement, alors que nous essayons de construire un pont de compréhension à travers les problèmes qui séparent les gens les uns des autres. Nous voyons ce pont en tant qu'élément curatif nécessaire pour la paix. À ceux au milieu de la douleur, de la colère, et de la crainte, même l'acte de joindre leurs danses avec celles "de l'ennemi" peut les faire sentir menaçés. Nous prévoyons, plutôt, que nos danses soient vues comme une prière pour le bien-être de toutes les personnes. Dans la tradition des Amis, nous allons au delà de prendre des côtés. Au lieu de cela, nous choisissons tous les côtés, du fait que nous nous éteignons pour embrasser toutes les parties dans un conflit. La seule victoire vraie vient quand toutes les parties gagnent.

Nous commençons notre programme aujourd’hui avec les danses suivantes:

Les travailleurs pour la paix autour du monde ont tiré bénéfice du travail et du témoin de Mohandas K. Gandhi. Pendant sa vie il a aidé à rassembler les musulmans et les hindous de l'Inde pendant qu'ils gagnaient leur indépendance de l'Angleterre. Ce tissu a été péniblement déchiré dans la conséquence de son assassinat, ayant comme résultat la guerre et, par la suite, la création du pays séparé du Pakistan. Dans cet ensemble, que nous appelons Dans les marchepieds de Gandhi, nous tissons “Pinjare Ke Panchhi” de l'Inde avec “Estaferallah,” une danse universelle de paix dérivée de la tradition Sufi.

Shalom, Salaam, Paix est notre prière pour casser les murs de la haine et de la crainte autour de la Terre Sainte. Bien que nous nous soyons accoutumés au cours des cinquante dernières années à penser aux Arabes et aux Juifs comme ennemis, ces deux peuples sémitiques ont vécu pendant des siècles en coexistence paisible jusqu’à l'ère récente. Cet ensemble inclut une danse des Etats-Unis en raison de la capacité de ce pays d'incliner l'équilibre entre la paix et la guerre dans cette partie du monde. Nous commençons avec “Shekhani,” une danse chaldéenne (d'une secte chrétienne irakienne), suivie par la danse arabe “Debka Oud”; continuons avec “Shibboleth Bassadeh,” une danse israélienne de moisson; et finissons avec “South Side Shuffle,” dansée à la chanson “J’aime bien une nuit pluvieuse,” qui rappelle un passage de l’évangile d’Essène:

La paix descendra comme la pluie sur l'herbe fauchée,

comme les douches qui arrosent la terre.

Dans le règne de la paix la loi se rendra forte

et les enfants de la lumière auront le dominion

de la mer à la mer, aux extrémités de la terre.

Avec Ceux que Dieu a joint nous avons un genre différent d’ensemble. Malgré toutes nos différences culturelles à travers le monde, le mariage d'une certaine sorte est commun à toutes les personnes. Ce mélange le célèbre par des danses de plusieurs nations. Nous commençons par “Hora Miresii,” une danse de femmes roumaines qui évoque la tristesse de la perte d'une amie (typiquement en se démènageant au village du mari), et procède à “Lakodalmi Tanç,” un air gracieux et plein d'espoir qui vient de la Hongrie et célèbre la transition au mariage. Le pas reprend avec une danse croate, “Sukačica,” se rapportant à la cuisinière de la jeune mariée, qui prépare les plats spéciaux pour le régal de mariage. Nous finissons le mélange avec une danse qui est provenue de la Suisse et puis est parcourue par l'Allemagne, l’Espagne, le Mexique, les Etats-Unis, et bien ailleurs, jusqu’à ce qu’elle est devenue un favori éternel aux mariages – c’est-à-dire, la “Danse du poulet.” Nous vous invitons à nous joindre, de vos sièges ou sur le plancher de danse, dans cette danse universelle de mariage.

Notre programme prévu est seulement une partie de notre ministère. La partie principale de notre temps avec vous comporte les danses de participation. Tous sont invités à nous joindre pendant que nous enseignons − et apprenons − des danses qui enjambent le globe.”

Les Danseurs Folkloriques des Amis (FFD)

Tournée au Congo, 2014

Biographies de la Troupe

SARAH ANUSU LUDISI est née dans une famille Quaker au Kenya occidental. Elle s’est mise consciente des Danseurs Folkloriques des Amis en 1996, quand elle instruisait à l'école secondaire des Amis à Kaimosi. Elle a dansé avec les FFD au Rwanda en 2008 et est ravie de pouvoir danser maintenant au Congo.

ROSEMARY COFFEY a voyagé avec les FFD depuis 1992 au Cuba, au Kenya, en Irlande, au Rwanda, en Australie et en Nouvelle Zélande, aussi bien que dans plusieurs régions des Etats-Unis. Active depuis longtemps dans le groupe des Amis de Pittsburgh (PA), l’Assemblée annuelle du Grand Lac d'Erie, et la section des Amériques du Comité Consultatif Mondial des Amis (CCMA), elle est institutrice retraitée, auteur, rédactrice, mère de trois, grand'mère de trois, et Quaker perpétuel. Elle a habité le Brésil, la Suisse, et l’Angleterre et a voyagé largement.

LYNNE D'ANGELO a tourné avec les Danseurs Folkloriques des Amis au Cuba, en Irlande, au Rwanda, et plusieures fois aux Etats-Unis. Une Californienne indigène, elle est une diététicienne en retraite. Elle a commencé à danser en 1996 et ne s’est pas arrêtée depuis. Membre actif du groupe des Amis Strawberry Creek à Berkeley, CA, elle se plaît à voyager, goûter la nourriture ethnique, et travailler dans son jardin. Lynne et son mari Peter ont trois enfants adultes et trois petits-enfants.

PETER D'ANGELO, aussi indigène de la Californie, est un ingénieur électronique retraité qui a été danseur folklorique depuis les années ‘60. Peter aime également le voyage d'aventure et faire du footing. Peter et son épouse Lynne ont visité tous les continents sauf l'Antarctique, auquel ils étaient en route en 2007 quand leur bateau est descendu juste auprès de la péninsule. Ils ont fait des excursions à pied sur la voie de Milford en Nouvelle Zélande, en Patagonie au sud de l'Amérique, et dans les montagnes Sierra Nevada de la Californie. Celle-ci est leur 7ème tournée avec les Danseurs Folkloriques des Amis.

ALINE DUSABE, rwandaise, est mère de trois enfants. Elle habite á Kigali, où elle travaille comme décoratrice. Elle  aime  la danse  depuis  l'âge de 14 ans lorsqu'elle a commencé l'école secondaire au Groupe Scolaire St. Jean Baptiste de Cyanhida. Elle a continué à pratiquer la danse même à l'âge adulte. De 2010-2013 elle a visité la Belgique, où elle a bénéficié de l'expérience de la musique européenne et ouest-africaine (de Sénégal et Guinée). C'est sa première tournée avec les Danseurs Folkloriques des Amis.

MARK JUDKINS HELPSMEET, bien qu’il soit né aux Etats-Unis, se considère un peu africain parce qu’il a vécu au Togo au cours de son service avec le Corps de la Paix des E-U il y a plus de 30 ans. Il habite l’état de Wisconsin, au nord des E-U à côté du Grand Lac de Michigan. Il travaille dans l’informatique, mais son grand projet depuis plusieurs ans, c’est le Northern Spirit Radio, des émissions qu’il prépare chaque semaine pour la radio. Tout le monde peut les écouter sur l’Internet à NorthernSpiritRadio.org! Mark a un fils unique, Chris, maintenant tout grandi, et une femme, Sandra, qui n’a pas pu l’accompagner pour ce voyage. Mark était l'un des membres fondateurs des FFD en 1986.

HUDSON OMENDA MAGOMRE est né au Kenya occidental dans une famille Quaker. Ses parents, maintenant décédés, servaient l'église comme des dirigeants. Il a découvrit les Danseurs Folkloriques en 2005 quand une troupe est apparue à Pendle Hill, un centre Quaker près de Philadelphie, la première ville américaine fondée par les Amis au 17ème siècle. C'est sa première tournée avec le groupe.

ANTOINE SAMVURA, originaire du Rwanda, a servi comme représentant légal de l'Assemblée annuelle des Amis du Rwanda depuis 2003. Il est également l'inspecteur des écoles des Amis dans ce pays. Dans son rôle de représentant légal, c'est lui qui s'est arrangé pour la visite de neuf Danseurs Folkloriques bienvenus – des États-Unis, de la Grande-Bretagne et du Kenya – au Rwanda en 2008. En 2011, il a fait une tournée avec les Danseurs á travers l'état d'Indiana aux E-U. ll est marié et père de quatre enfants. Un membre de l'assemblée mensuelle Kagarama à Kigali, Antoine est un artisan de la paix qui serait heureux de partager des histoires avec les Amis congolais sur le travail des Amis dans son pays natal.