Land Of Promise

In March, I took a couple trips to Butembo, but have been late in posting. The following reflection is a blend of both excursions.

Unlike the Mambasa voyage, my ass welcomed the soft seat of a Toyota Corolla as we headed south. The commonly used road winded and climbed through the hills surrounding Beni. Perhaps lacking the uncertainty and adventure of a motorbike ride through the Ituri forest, I rested my head on the back seat and admired the culture and land. Banana trees and bamboo blanketed the hillsides leaving room for savannah and fields that helps sustain the local livelihood. Passing through villages, my mind surpassed a perception of poverty and strife, but rested in admiration of the simplicity of life. Maybe ignorance entangled with envy.
The 8th of March was “Women’s Day”, a day that celebrates the rights of women and includes parades, dancing, and feasts. A significant day providing hope, proclaiming justice, and encouraging respect for our sisters. On our way to Butembo, colorful “mamas” marched along the roadside singing and cheering. The women of UCBC also gathered for the celebration. It rained hard the day before and in the morning, turning the road into a slick and muddy passage. Women bathed their babies in the rushing streams, washed clothes, dishes, and a variety of household items. Resilient travelers continued pushing their bikes weighted with market goods and supplies of various kinds. Some waited under rusted roof tops and tree canopies for the rain to cease and the fierce, but welcomed, sunlight to dry their soaked clothes. As we neared Butembo, large monuments, brick factories, smoked. Large and white wedding-bell orchids lined the river’s bank, disclosing the water passage. How I admire this land.

Butembo is a bustling business town, a bit more developed and modern than Beni, but still exhibiting a collision of old and new. A European-like market and hundreds of boutiques lined its congested roads. One trip we wandered and located supplies for construction at the University, another trip was spent with a friend and board member. Our friend and supporter generously gave a Thanksgiving like meal and rich conversation.

On our way back to Beni, we made two stops. One was at a farm to look at cows…oh yeah, just like “Sconi”. I enjoyed inhaling the smells of cow manure and hide that I’d often catch headed to Minneapolis or Northern Wisconsin. Our friend Josh was visiting from Goma and was assisting us with agriculture ideas at the University. Nestled in the emerald hills, the farm and land resembled the infamous “shire”; peaceful, uncorrupted, and bountiful.

As we drew near to Beni, the road follows the hillside. The Ruwenzori Mountains remained tall and unchanging in the distance. A couple 100 meters down laid a look out point. The sight was unforgettable, especially as the sun slowly descended beyond the horizon. Mystical hills outlined the valley in which Beni rested. Rivers and streams below were tenderly exposed by an angelic, ashen mist. The evening came quickly, but my eyes captured enough of the serenity to relay a whisper to my ears… “ A land of promise.”