Doug and Carrie Melvin of Boise, Idaho have both devoted their time to working on African fish farming and harvesting efforts. Doug Melvin was in Zaire for Special Forces and Carrie (that’s me!) worked as a Peace Corps volunteer in Africa.
This is the second in a series of letters I wrote describing traveling and working in Africa. In this letter, I talk about travel in Kinshasa, the posts where we stayed and my introduction to fish harvesting and African cooking.
Letter #2
17 December 1988
Hi everyone.
Just got back to Kinshasa after an experience-a-minute week-long “sortie”. We split into four groups and went to stay with volunteers at their posts. Pretty eye-opening. All in all, Zaire travel is a lot like I expected it to be, I guess, but it is still really odd to be here. Travel in Kinshasa is noisy, crowded, dirty, colorful, a free-for-all. Don’t ever move here! Traveling along 350 miles of Zaire’s under 1500 miles of paved road (Swiss cheese style road, I believe) was something different altogether. As far as the eye can see in all directions is green savannah, dotted with anthills and termite hills, scrub and manioc fields plunging down into forested valleys with jungle and rivers and women carrying huge loads on their heads and thousands of little kiddos shouting “mundele” (‘white person’ in Kikongo) almost hysterically and running after the truck as we drive by.
My group went to Bandundu. We went to two posts: 1) Tina and Bob are a married couple living in an old Belgian colonial house looking over the Kwenge river. They have a huge blooming garden, bathe in the river, have a separate motorcycle hut, cooking hut, WC (outhouse, etc.) It’s pretty nice. 2) Nick’s house is a more likely Peace Corps post – small, mud brick, grass roof house (cozy but dark) , bucket baths only, struggling garden. Nick’s house is really in the village, whereas Tina and Bob’s home is outside of their village. In both places the people were extremely friendly and nice. Though we obviously couldn’t have much conversation (they speak Kikongo – I don’t) they seemed honored to have us there and very gracious. We went visiting and were continuously offered palm wine and cola nuts (blecch – bitter). [Cola nuts are a very bitter tree nut with a stimulant effect. According to Doug Melvin from Boise, Idaho they are also common in the Angola border region – but not common in the eastern part of the country.].
At both posts we went to a farmer’s fish harvest. I must say that fish harvesting still doesn’t thrill me – mucking around in a pond with 8 inches of fish slime trying to pull idiotic tilapias out of the muck before they get baked in the broiling sun. And it is HOT here. Africa hot. Usually wherever we went to harvest fish the farmers make little shaded places out of palm fronds for us.
And after harvesting fish they would lead us back up to the village and we’d drink palm wine and when they’d had a few glasses they’d start singing Tilapia songs. (pensez poiso-o-o-n, a way, a way a way) Too funny. Then we’d gather around for some traditional African cooking: fufu (bland, dough-like stuff you rip off into a small ball and use to scoop up everything else), manioc greens, duck or chicken in peppery sauce, of course Tilapia, and one delicacy I managed to pass up- boiled palm grubs! I hear they’re better fried, so I’ll hold out for that. One person tried to convince me: “Try one – they taste just like bacon fat!” Tempting, huh?? Otherwise, African cooking is pretty tasty. Apparently a lot of volunteers last year got sick right away, so in general the volunteers have been feeding us American-type food as much as possible. I’m not too psyched yet about malaria medicine. They are being awfully vague about the side-effects. I’ve heard everything from hair loss to sterility. Hmm. This letter is pretty scatterbrained – because that is how I feel right now – this has been a lot of information to process.
In general travel in Zaire is fascinating and really beautiful. The fish program I still have some philosophical issues with. But I can’t wait to get to training in Bukavu. I hear it is great. And it will be a chance to spend two nights in the same place!
More later, but I have to go get this in the mail now.
Love you,
Carrie
May 24, 2007
Aquaculture in Africa Journal: Letters from a Zaire Peace Corps Volunteer
Doug and Carrie Melvin of Boise, Idaho have both dedicated time to work on African fish farming efforts. Doug Melvin was in Zaire for Special Forces and Carrie (that’s me!) worked as a Peace Corps volunteer in Africa.
This is the first in a series of letters I wrote describing the move from training in the Peace Corps to traveling and working in Africa. In this letter, I explain how I quickly learned some unique African airport customs, fell in love with the great beauty of Africa, and got down to work with my fellow Peace Corps volunteers. This is also is the first mention of the love of my life, Doug.
Letter #1
December 11, 1988
It’s 10:00 pm on Sunday and I feel like it has been one continuous day since we left training on Friday. Goodbyes were hard but sorrow was overridden by excitement as we departed for the airport in the rain. I left Alex [friend in training, before eventually meeting Doug Melvin from Boise, Idaho] to hitchhike home in the rain.
Our layover was a day in Paris – what a great place! After dealing with customs, we had only six hours to see the city. So, a few of us rushed around like maniacs, shopping, people watching, drinking wine, and seeing things like Notre Dame when the mood struck us. It was an overcast, dreary day which added to the mystique of it all as we ate roasted chestnuts peering at the Eiffel Tower through the mists.
Then it was off again, this time to the land under African skies. Ndjili airport in Kinshasa wasn’t nearly as bad as East Along the Equator had led me to believe. The 26 of us, needless to say too tired to put up a fuss, were led by the hand through the customs and baggage claim processes. No big deal, really, except that lots of both legitimate and illegitimate baggage carriers want to take your suitcases and carry them for you – for a price of course. It’s really a riot – two guys will pick up one bag each, walk about 20 steps, then two other guys will take them from the other two. They figure you will tip anyone who helps, so the more helpers, the more tips. None of us had any Zaires ($$), so Peace Corps took care of the legitimate baggage handlers. The others got nothing and made sure we all knew how put out they were. [Note: it was only after traveling more into and out of Kinshasa that I realized how tough the airport really was, and how much the Peace Corps “expediter” – a full time well-paid local staffer who took care of volunteers customs and transportation needs – really did for us. The first time I traveled out of Kinshasa on my own I had a pretty tough time.]
The drive from Ndjili to inner Kinshasa was wild. We were in a Peace Corps bus- pretty nice – and drove through places that reminded me a lot of Haiti and Barbados. Trees and tropics; buildings and huts that look like they’ve been built with no intention of taming the wilds. Lots of markets and merchants and people selling things like goats, bananas, and car tail light reflectors along the roadside. The general appearance` was not modern and chic, but also not primitive or “tribal” looking. Then again, this was along a paved road to Kinshasa, so it probably does not reflect the big picture.
Our group split into two for the night. My group went to the Peace Corps “Malade House” where volunteers in Kinshasa for health or other reason stay. It’s a nice house with air conditioning, bunk beds, and hot showers. The other group stayed in a Presbyterian missionary visitor house, with mattresses on the floor, mosquitos, and cold water. I lucked out this time.
The bulk of today was spent at the “American Club” of all places. I felt a little like I was in a Miami Beach resort watching Americans walk around with tennis rackets and sip iced tea by the pool. Too weird. We had an administrative and medical training, got some per diem money, malaria medicine, and a spaghetti lunch. We swam and napped, then ate dinner at the Greek Club. All in all a pretty lax introduction to Kinshasa.
Pretty tame African experience, huh? [When I compare notes with Doug Melvin from Boise, who was in Zaire for Special Forces, I realized how cushy Peace Corps made our first few days in country.]
But with tomorrow comes the real deal, when we leave for field trips (“sorties” in French). I’ll spend five days in Bandundu with six other trainees at the site of a married Peace Corps couple’s post. This is supposedly a very pro-fish farming region (and in fact the volunteer whose post we will be visiting was singing fish songs in French to herself all day – is it brainwashing, I wonder?). So I am pretty excited.
Then, next Sunday, we will be off to Bukavu for the official beginning of in-country training. I’ll write again soon after or during sortie. But someone will take this letter back to the states soon, so I wanted to get something in the mail for you.
XOXOXOX
Carrie
This is the first in a series of letters I wrote describing the move from training in the Peace Corps to traveling and working in Africa. In this letter, I explain how I quickly learned some unique African airport customs, fell in love with the great beauty of Africa, and got down to work with my fellow Peace Corps volunteers. This is also is the first mention of the love of my life, Doug.
Letter #1
December 11, 1988
It’s 10:00 pm on Sunday and I feel like it has been one continuous day since we left training on Friday. Goodbyes were hard but sorrow was overridden by excitement as we departed for the airport in the rain. I left Alex [friend in training, before eventually meeting Doug Melvin from Boise, Idaho] to hitchhike home in the rain.
Our layover was a day in Paris – what a great place! After dealing with customs, we had only six hours to see the city. So, a few of us rushed around like maniacs, shopping, people watching, drinking wine, and seeing things like Notre Dame when the mood struck us. It was an overcast, dreary day which added to the mystique of it all as we ate roasted chestnuts peering at the Eiffel Tower through the mists.
Then it was off again, this time to the land under African skies. Ndjili airport in Kinshasa wasn’t nearly as bad as East Along the Equator had led me to believe. The 26 of us, needless to say too tired to put up a fuss, were led by the hand through the customs and baggage claim processes. No big deal, really, except that lots of both legitimate and illegitimate baggage carriers want to take your suitcases and carry them for you – for a price of course. It’s really a riot – two guys will pick up one bag each, walk about 20 steps, then two other guys will take them from the other two. They figure you will tip anyone who helps, so the more helpers, the more tips. None of us had any Zaires ($$), so Peace Corps took care of the legitimate baggage handlers. The others got nothing and made sure we all knew how put out they were. [Note: it was only after traveling more into and out of Kinshasa that I realized how tough the airport really was, and how much the Peace Corps “expediter” – a full time well-paid local staffer who took care of volunteers customs and transportation needs – really did for us. The first time I traveled out of Kinshasa on my own I had a pretty tough time.]
The drive from Ndjili to inner Kinshasa was wild. We were in a Peace Corps bus- pretty nice – and drove through places that reminded me a lot of Haiti and Barbados. Trees and tropics; buildings and huts that look like they’ve been built with no intention of taming the wilds. Lots of markets and merchants and people selling things like goats, bananas, and car tail light reflectors along the roadside. The general appearance` was not modern and chic, but also not primitive or “tribal” looking. Then again, this was along a paved road to Kinshasa, so it probably does not reflect the big picture.
Our group split into two for the night. My group went to the Peace Corps “Malade House” where volunteers in Kinshasa for health or other reason stay. It’s a nice house with air conditioning, bunk beds, and hot showers. The other group stayed in a Presbyterian missionary visitor house, with mattresses on the floor, mosquitos, and cold water. I lucked out this time.
The bulk of today was spent at the “American Club” of all places. I felt a little like I was in a Miami Beach resort watching Americans walk around with tennis rackets and sip iced tea by the pool. Too weird. We had an administrative and medical training, got some per diem money, malaria medicine, and a spaghetti lunch. We swam and napped, then ate dinner at the Greek Club. All in all a pretty lax introduction to Kinshasa.
Pretty tame African experience, huh? [When I compare notes with Doug Melvin from Boise, who was in Zaire for Special Forces, I realized how cushy Peace Corps made our first few days in country.]
But with tomorrow comes the real deal, when we leave for field trips (“sorties” in French). I’ll spend five days in Bandundu with six other trainees at the site of a married Peace Corps couple’s post. This is supposedly a very pro-fish farming region (and in fact the volunteer whose post we will be visiting was singing fish songs in French to herself all day – is it brainwashing, I wonder?). So I am pretty excited.
Then, next Sunday, we will be off to Bukavu for the official beginning of in-country training. I’ll write again soon after or during sortie. But someone will take this letter back to the states soon, so I wanted to get something in the mail for you.
XOXOXOX
Carrie
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