In 1877 Daily Telegraph correspondent and explorer extraordinaire Henry Morton Stanley completed his epic journey to chart the course of the Congo river.
130 years later, Daily Telegraph correspondent Tim Butcher set out to retrace his steps - alone, and in the face of warnings that the trip was "suicidal". Follow his progress in our unfolding series of exclusive extracts and interviews as he makes this incredible journey through Africa's bleeding, broken heart.
Note from the blog: I encourage you to buy this book and read it. You will understand better the hardship I had to go through when I went to the field with a team of 30 2 years ago when I conducted a comprehensive needs assessment.
Marie-France
mardi 4 décembre 2007
mercredi 28 novembre 2007
The DRCongo Action Plan - lets not forget DRC...
In Quebec, DRCongo has been much on the news lately. As I lived in this fascinating country for two years, I have decided to share a bit of stories and information.
I have previously written short stories of the days I have spent in my kitchen floor and bathroom in two dangerous occasions; August 2006 and March 2007. In fact, serious fighting were taking place meters away from my house in Kinshasa and throughout the city between the government troups and the opposition leader`s troops.
-----------
In 2006, the humanitarian community published its first Action Plan, I was the lucky one who coordinated some 100 partners involved in humanitarian aid in the DRCongo. Here is the forward I drafted for Ross Mountain, the Humanitarian Coordinator. Here are a few excerpts and horrifying numbers.....
Foreword
This year is like no other for the DRC. On the one hand, the extent of the suffering of the population is beginning to be recognized. Over four million people have perished as a result of years of continuing conflict, a number which increases by some 1,200 every day and which is equivalent to an Asian tsunami each and every six months.
DRC has been called the most deadly humanitarian catastrophe in 60 years.
The UN Emergency Relief Coordinator has called it the greatest challenge currently facing the international community. On the other hand, never since independence has the prospect for the country emerging from despotism, crisis and chaos appeared so bright.
Last year, in 2005, 25 million Congolese enthusiastically registered to vote and in December overwhelmingly endorsed a constitution that forms the basis for a democratic state and opens the way to the first free and fair elections in over 40 years.
The 2006 DRC Action Plan adopts a unique approach. Within the context of one strategic framework humanitarian priorities and programmes have been identified for each region of this vast country and linked with a limited number of high-impact stability programmes which themselves fast-track key elements of the Poverty Reduction Strategy Paper (PRSP).
The Plan has been developed with the active participation of the full range of partners in the DRC and validated through a consultative process with field-based donors, UN Agencies and the NGO community.
The Action Plan is more than a fundraising tool - it represents a comprehensive approach to humanitarian coordination, strategic planning and monitoring. By including stability programmes in the overall strategy, the UN is foreseeing measures needed to rapidly bridge the gap between humanitarian action and the development programme that will be launched to meet public expectations after the election of a new government.
The humanitarian component of the Plan you are about to read is ambitious—considerably more than those of past years. Anything short of a bold attempt to address the dramatic scale and scope of the humanitarian needs in the DRC will leave millions of innocent people exposed to continued suffering and death. With over four million unnecessary deaths, the time has come for a concerted and intensified effort to address the humanitarian catastrophe unfolding in the Democratic Republic of Congo and to give the Congolese people hope that a better future is within their grasp.
Ross Mountain Humanitarian and Resident Coordinator
Democratic Republic of Congo
I have previously written short stories of the days I have spent in my kitchen floor and bathroom in two dangerous occasions; August 2006 and March 2007. In fact, serious fighting were taking place meters away from my house in Kinshasa and throughout the city between the government troups and the opposition leader`s troops.
-----------
In 2006, the humanitarian community published its first Action Plan, I was the lucky one who coordinated some 100 partners involved in humanitarian aid in the DRCongo. Here is the forward I drafted for Ross Mountain, the Humanitarian Coordinator. Here are a few excerpts and horrifying numbers.....
Foreword
This year is like no other for the DRC. On the one hand, the extent of the suffering of the population is beginning to be recognized. Over four million people have perished as a result of years of continuing conflict, a number which increases by some 1,200 every day and which is equivalent to an Asian tsunami each and every six months.
DRC has been called the most deadly humanitarian catastrophe in 60 years.
The UN Emergency Relief Coordinator has called it the greatest challenge currently facing the international community. On the other hand, never since independence has the prospect for the country emerging from despotism, crisis and chaos appeared so bright.
Last year, in 2005, 25 million Congolese enthusiastically registered to vote and in December overwhelmingly endorsed a constitution that forms the basis for a democratic state and opens the way to the first free and fair elections in over 40 years.
The 2006 DRC Action Plan adopts a unique approach. Within the context of one strategic framework humanitarian priorities and programmes have been identified for each region of this vast country and linked with a limited number of high-impact stability programmes which themselves fast-track key elements of the Poverty Reduction Strategy Paper (PRSP).
The Plan has been developed with the active participation of the full range of partners in the DRC and validated through a consultative process with field-based donors, UN Agencies and the NGO community.
The Action Plan is more than a fundraising tool - it represents a comprehensive approach to humanitarian coordination, strategic planning and monitoring. By including stability programmes in the overall strategy, the UN is foreseeing measures needed to rapidly bridge the gap between humanitarian action and the development programme that will be launched to meet public expectations after the election of a new government.
The humanitarian component of the Plan you are about to read is ambitious—considerably more than those of past years. Anything short of a bold attempt to address the dramatic scale and scope of the humanitarian needs in the DRC will leave millions of innocent people exposed to continued suffering and death. With over four million unnecessary deaths, the time has come for a concerted and intensified effort to address the humanitarian catastrophe unfolding in the Democratic Republic of Congo and to give the Congolese people hope that a better future is within their grasp.
Ross Mountain Humanitarian and Resident Coordinator
Democratic Republic of Congo
mardi 27 novembre 2007
New job for a humanitarian aid worker
La nouvelle dg du Mondial a des projets plein la tête par Maxime Rioux - Article mis en ligne le 27 novembre 2007 à 15:57
En regardant son parcours peu commun, force est de constater que Marie-France Bourgeois, qui parle le français, l'anglais, l'espagnol et l'italien, n'a pas choisi les chemins (et les endroits) les plus calmes pour travailler.
«J'ai quitté Drummondville il y a 20 ans pour aller aider les femmes et les enfants dans le monde, a raconté celle qui détient une maîtrise en planification sociale pour les pays en voie de développement. Après mes études à New York, j'ai travaillé pendant quatre ans à Ottawa, puis j'ai ensuite été en Afrique, sur la Côte d'Ivoire, où j'ai notamment œuvré pour le compte de l'ACDI. Je me suis ensuite rendue dans des camps en Tanzanie, où j'ai aidé des réfugiés rwandais à la suite du massacre que tous connaissent. Au cours des dernières années, j'étais au Congo.»
Dans un autre ordre d'idées, Mme Bourgeois a également planché pour le compte du pape en 2002. Elle a alors organisé certaines activités dans la foulée de la Journée mondiale de la jeunesse.
Tout en aidant et en soutenant les gens dans le besoin, Marie-France Bourgeois a aussi vécu son lot de mésaventures, ayant elle-même déjà été prise pour cible par un tireur, au Congo, un événement qui l'a obligée à se barricader dans une salle de bain pendant trois jours. Après de tels événements, nul besoin de dire que le retour dans sa ville natale est synonyme de repos.
«J'ai envie de travailler pour le Mondial des cultures pour plusieurs raisons, a exposé la femme de 44 ans. D'abord, parce que le genre de vie que j'avais jusqu'à tout récemment finit par user quelqu'un, mais aussi parce que j'ai maintenant une petite fille et j'ai envie de lui offrir de la stabilité. Mais par-dessus tout, c'est parce que je souscris aux valeurs profondes du Mondial; je veux rassembler les gens et promouvoir la culture et la paix dans le monde. Je suis de celles qui croient à la fraternité universelle.»
Nouveau départ
En 2007, Mme Bourgeois a adopté une petite Chinoise de 19 mois, un événement qui, à bien des égards, a un lien étroit avec ce qu'elle vit actuellement.
Pour la première fois de son histoire, le Mondial des cultures de Drummondville est dirigé par des femmes, à savoir Elisabeth Jutras, présidente du conseil d'administration, et Marie-France Bourgeois, directrice générale.
Voir toutes les photos La nouvelle dg du Mondial a des projets plein la tête
La nouvelle directrice générale du Mondial des cultures, Marie-France Bourgeois, a bien des projets en tête. Elle qui a été bénévole pour le Mondial en 1983 a fait bien du chemin au cours des 20 dernières année. Son cheminement, elle souhaite maintenant le mettre au profit d'un organisme dont les valeurs l'interpellent.
Parmi les projets de Mme Bourgeois, se retrouve l'intention de créer un espace intergénérationnel afin que la culture et que les traditions puissent être transmises.
«J'aimerais que la culture devienne "full cool" pour les jeunes, a indiqué avec un sourire Mme Bourgeois. Du coup, j'aimerais voir les jeunes s'impliquer davantage au sein du Mondial.»
Les autres objectifs de Marie-France Bourgeois sont notamment d'établir un lien de confiance et de transparence avec le conseil d'administration, de redorer le blason de l'organisme et d'insuffler un nouveau dynamisme.
Saluant le travail effectué par l'équipe en place au cours de la dernière année, Mme Bourgeois a assuré que le prochain Mondial des cultures sera de toute beauté.
«Le volet Mondial Vert sera plus que jamais mis de l'avant, a assuré Mme Bourgeois. Ce sera un pas de plus vers une signature de l'accord de Kyoto. D'autre part, nous souhaitons augmenter les recettes, accroître le nombre de visiteurs et donner une visibilité accrue au Mondial. S'il faut passer par des organismes comme l'Unesco (United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organisation) pour faire connaître l'organisme, nous n'hésiterons pas à le faire.»
«J'aimerais que la culture devienne "full cool" pour les jeunes, a indiqué avec un sourire Mme Bourgeois. Du coup, j'aimerais voir les jeunes s'impliquer davantage au sein du Mondial.»
Les autres objectifs de Marie-France Bourgeois sont notamment d'établir un lien de confiance et de transparence avec le conseil d'administration, de redorer le blason de l'organisme et d'insuffler un nouveau dynamisme.
Saluant le travail effectué par l'équipe en place au cours de la dernière année, Mme Bourgeois a assuré que le prochain Mondial des cultures sera de toute beauté.
«Le volet Mondial Vert sera plus que jamais mis de l'avant, a assuré Mme Bourgeois. Ce sera un pas de plus vers une signature de l'accord de Kyoto. D'autre part, nous souhaitons augmenter les recettes, accroître le nombre de visiteurs et donner une visibilité accrue au Mondial. S'il faut passer par des organismes comme l'Unesco (United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organisation) pour faire connaître l'organisme, nous n'hésiterons pas à le faire.»
Parcours peu commun
En regardant son parcours peu commun, force est de constater que Marie-France Bourgeois, qui parle le français, l'anglais, l'espagnol et l'italien, n'a pas choisi les chemins (et les endroits) les plus calmes pour travailler.
«J'ai quitté Drummondville il y a 20 ans pour aller aider les femmes et les enfants dans le monde, a raconté celle qui détient une maîtrise en planification sociale pour les pays en voie de développement. Après mes études à New York, j'ai travaillé pendant quatre ans à Ottawa, puis j'ai ensuite été en Afrique, sur la Côte d'Ivoire, où j'ai notamment œuvré pour le compte de l'ACDI. Je me suis ensuite rendue dans des camps en Tanzanie, où j'ai aidé des réfugiés rwandais à la suite du massacre que tous connaissent. Au cours des dernières années, j'étais au Congo.»
Dans un autre ordre d'idées, Mme Bourgeois a également planché pour le compte du pape en 2002. Elle a alors organisé certaines activités dans la foulée de la Journée mondiale de la jeunesse.
Tout en aidant et en soutenant les gens dans le besoin, Marie-France Bourgeois a aussi vécu son lot de mésaventures, ayant elle-même déjà été prise pour cible par un tireur, au Congo, un événement qui l'a obligée à se barricader dans une salle de bain pendant trois jours. Après de tels événements, nul besoin de dire que le retour dans sa ville natale est synonyme de repos.
«J'ai envie de travailler pour le Mondial des cultures pour plusieurs raisons, a exposé la femme de 44 ans. D'abord, parce que le genre de vie que j'avais jusqu'à tout récemment finit par user quelqu'un, mais aussi parce que j'ai maintenant une petite fille et j'ai envie de lui offrir de la stabilité. Mais par-dessus tout, c'est parce que je souscris aux valeurs profondes du Mondial; je veux rassembler les gens et promouvoir la culture et la paix dans le monde. Je suis de celles qui croient à la fraternité universelle.»
Nouveau départ
En 2007, Mme Bourgeois a adopté une petite Chinoise de 19 mois, un événement qui, à bien des égards, a un lien étroit avec ce qu'elle vit actuellement.
«Cela faisait longtemps que je voulais adopter un enfant. Je suis allé chercher ma fille en Chine en avril dernier, avec mes parents. Elle s'appelle Xinfa, un prénom que je lui laisserai et qui signifie "nouveau développement". Pour moi, qui reviens à Drummondville et qui renoue avec mes racines, cela signifie beaucoup», a-t-elle partagé.
From a humanitarian aid worker to a Festival Director
La nouvelle dg du Mondial a des projets plein la tête
par Maxime Rioux - l`Express - Article mis en ligne le 27 novembre 2007
Pour la première fois de son histoire, le Mondial des cultures de Drummondville est dirigé par des femmes, à savoir Elisabeth Jutras, présidente du conseil d'administration, et Marie-France Bourgeois, directrice générale.
La nouvelle directrice générale du Mondial des cultures, Marie-France Bourgeois, a bien des projets en tête. Elle qui a été bénévole pour le Mondial en 1983 a fait bien du chemin au cours des 20 dernières année. Son cheminement, elle souhaite maintenant le mettre au profit d'un organisme dont les valeurs l'interpellent.
Parmi les projets de Mme Bourgeois, se retrouve l'intention de créer un espace intergénérationnel afin que la culture et que les traditions puissent être transmises.
«J'aimerais que la culture devienne "full cool" pour les jeunes, a indiqué avec un sourire Mme Bourgeois. Du coup, j'aimerais voir les jeunes s'impliquer davantage au sein du Mondial.»
Les autres objectifs de Marie-France Bourgeois sont notamment d'établir un lien de confiance et de transparence avec le conseil d'administration, de redorer le blason de l'organisme et d'insuffler un nouveau dynamisme.
Saluant le travail effectué par l'équipe en place au cours de la dernière année, Mme Bourgeois a assuré que le prochain Mondial des cultures sera de toute beauté.
«Le volet Mondial Vert sera plus que jamais mis de l'avant, a assuré Mme Bourgeois. Ce sera un pas de plus vers une signature de l'accord de Kyoto. D'autre part, nous souhaitons augmenter les recettes, accroître le nombre de visiteurs et donner une visibilité accrue au Mondial. S'il faut passer par des organismes comme l'Unesco (United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organisation) pour faire connaître l'organisme, nous n'hésiterons pas à le faire.»
«J'aimerais que la culture devienne "full cool" pour les jeunes, a indiqué avec un sourire Mme Bourgeois. Du coup, j'aimerais voir les jeunes s'impliquer davantage au sein du Mondial.»
Les autres objectifs de Marie-France Bourgeois sont notamment d'établir un lien de confiance et de transparence avec le conseil d'administration, de redorer le blason de l'organisme et d'insuffler un nouveau dynamisme.
Saluant le travail effectué par l'équipe en place au cours de la dernière année, Mme Bourgeois a assuré que le prochain Mondial des cultures sera de toute beauté.
«Le volet Mondial Vert sera plus que jamais mis de l'avant, a assuré Mme Bourgeois. Ce sera un pas de plus vers une signature de l'accord de Kyoto. D'autre part, nous souhaitons augmenter les recettes, accroître le nombre de visiteurs et donner une visibilité accrue au Mondial. S'il faut passer par des organismes comme l'Unesco (United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organisation) pour faire connaître l'organisme, nous n'hésiterons pas à le faire.»
Parcours peu commun
En regardant son parcours peu commun, force est de constater que Marie-France Bourgeois, qui parle le français, l'anglais, l'espagnol et l'italien, n'a pas choisi les chemins (et les endroits) les plus calmes pour travailler.
«J'ai quitté Drummondville il y a 20 ans pour aller aider les femmes et les enfants dans le monde, a raconté celle qui détient une maîtrise en planification sociale pour les pays en voie de développement. Après mes études à New York, j'ai travaillé pendant quatre ans à Ottawa, puis j'ai ensuite été en Afrique, sur la Côte d'Ivoire, où j'ai notamment œuvré pour le compte de l'ACDI. Je me suis ensuite rendue dans des camps en Tanzanie, où j'ai aidé des réfugiés rwandais à la suite du massacre que tous connaissent. Au cours des dernières années, j'étais au Congo.»
Dans un autre ordre d'idées, Mme Bourgeois a également planché pour le compte du pape en 2002. Elle a alors organisé certaines activités dans la foulée de la Journée mondiale de la jeunesse.
Tout en aidant et en soutenant les gens dans le besoin, Marie-France Bourgeois a aussi vécu son lot de mésaventures, ayant elle-même déjà été prise pour cible par un tireur, au Congo, un événement qui l'a obligée à se barricader dans une salle de bain pendant trois jours. Après de tels événements, nul besoin de dire que le retour dans sa ville natale est synonyme de repos.
«J'ai envie de travailler pour le Mondial des cultures pour plusieurs raisons, a exposé la femme de 44 ans. D'abord, parce que le genre de vie que j'avais jusqu'à tout récemment finit par user quelqu'un, mais aussi parce que j'ai maintenant une petite fille et j'ai envie de lui offrir de la stabilité. Mais par-dessus tout, c'est parce que je souscris aux valeurs profondes du Mondial; je veux rassembler les gens et promouvoir la culture et la paix dans le monde. Je suis de celles qui croient à la fraternité universelle.»
Nouveau départ
En 2007, Mme Bourgeois a adopté une petite Chinoise de 19 mois, un événement qui, à bien des égards, a un lien étroit avec ce qu'elle vit actuellement.
«Cela faisait longtemps que je voulais adopter un enfant. Je suis allé chercher ma fille en Chine en avril dernier, avec mes parents. Elle s'appelle Xinfa, un prénom que je lui laisserai et qui signifie "nouveau développement". Pour moi, qui reviens à Drummondville et qui renoue avec mes racines, cela signifie beaucoup», a-t-elle partagé.
dimanche 25 novembre 2007
Uganda; the tale of Okello
A few years ago, part of an interview of a job asked me to draft a speech for the Emergency Relief Coordinator as if he would be addressing himself to the United Nations when Uganda was a true forgetten emergency as DRCongo is now... This is what I came out with...
Mr. President,
A recent study on donor accountability described the links between donors and beneficiaries as indirect. Let me introduce Okello to you. Okello is 12, he's skinny and one of his front teeth is missing. I met Okello in Kitgum district, Northern Uganda, last November. His story made such an impression on me that I decided to be his spokesman.
· Okello comes from a region in Northern Uganda where, after renewed fighting between the government and the Lord's Resistance Army, some 800,000 Acholi people, half of them children, have been displaced. They are now living in so-called protected camps. But the camps themselves are now targets for attacks, just as the villages once were.
· Now I want you to imagine Okello joining me on this podium, from which you will hear his testimony.
· You will see he has no shoes. And if you are close by, you may notice an odour. Please understand, my young friend doesn't have access to soap.
· These are Okello's words: "I remember one night in June, the rebels attacked Karimojong district. They burst into our home and raped my sister Agwaki. My father refused to let me go with them, so they torched our hut.
· So my parents had no choice - we had to flee. We left everything behind, our land and our goat. My father lost his job, my mother the land where we grew our food. My sister hasn't recovered from the rape. That night, we were all sent to hell.
· Ever since, I have felt hungry. But my three-year-old brother suffered most. My mother took him to a clinic run by muzungu, white people. They told her he would have to spend a month there, but he had to stay much longer - the clinic didn't always have the food it needed, and even the muzungu could not work properly.
· As for me, I worry every day that the rebels will come back and take me away to be a soldier. So like most of my friends, I go to sleep in the grounds of the local hospital. For now, that is the only safe place to sleep.
· In the name of my people, I want to thank you for letting me tell you my story. Please help bring peace back to our country.
[pause]
· Ladies and gentlemen, Okello's fate is not unusual. On the contrary. There are about 45 million people in countries such as Liberia, Cote d'Ivoire, Somalia, Sudan or Chechnya, where there are children with similar stories.
· Like so many others, Okello is being denied his most basic needs and human rights. It's hard to know what to say when you are confronted with this reality, as I was on my trip to Uganda.
· Our first reaction, our instinct, would be to go to Okello and comfort him. To reassure Okello that the world has not forgotten about his daily nightmare. We will get out our check books, we will commit the funds needed to put an end to such misery.
· But if I tell Okello that the international community has been trying to help in the past years, would he believe me? Especially if I tell him the truth, that last year's appeal did not win funding for sectors as important as agriculture in his country?
· Can you think of a way to explain that lack of funding means that the so-called protected camps offer no protection from diarrhoea and intestinal worms, and no treatment for respiratory diseases including pneumonia?
· Remember the Balkans. I don't wish to downplay the horror of what happened there, but in some ways, the people there were the lucky ones - they got blanket media coverage and resources, while for long-running African crises such as those in Sudan, Angola, aid agencies struggled to find funds.
· That is why OCHA has reinforced its media strategy to focus public attention on its
annual Consolidated Appeals. OCHA knows that sustained media attention, is important to creating political movement. Its Flash Appeals keep abreast of every “forgotten emergency” with their concise overview of life-saving needs. Sad to say, most of these "forgotten emergencies" are in Africa.
Mr. President,
· A recent study underlined that foreign policy interests or, rather, a lack of thereof, are to a large extent responsible for the phenomenon of “forgotten emergencies”. The good news is that donors have recognized their shortcomings. They've started the Good Humanitarian Donorship process in Stockholm, to make aid more responsive to needs. They have selected Burundi and the Democratic Republic of the Congo as pilot Consolidated Appeals for the implementation of good humanitarian donorship. I am convinced this will help raise the level of funding for countries with daunting needs which last year only received 28% and 37% of their aid requirements.
· Let us hope that the donor community will be ready to finance this year's appeal in full. If we raise $128 million dollars for the estimated 1.2 million displaced in forgotten Uganda, that would mean $106 dollars per person. Surely that's not too much to ask.
· I made myself a promise not to let Okello down. I can remember his voice. I can still picture the skinny boy near Kitgum's district hospital, holding his piece of bread. I would like to go back next year, and look him in the eye, and tell him that we care and that we have not let him down.
Thank you, Mr President.
Mr. President,
A recent study on donor accountability described the links between donors and beneficiaries as indirect. Let me introduce Okello to you. Okello is 12, he's skinny and one of his front teeth is missing. I met Okello in Kitgum district, Northern Uganda, last November. His story made such an impression on me that I decided to be his spokesman.
· Okello comes from a region in Northern Uganda where, after renewed fighting between the government and the Lord's Resistance Army, some 800,000 Acholi people, half of them children, have been displaced. They are now living in so-called protected camps. But the camps themselves are now targets for attacks, just as the villages once were.
· Now I want you to imagine Okello joining me on this podium, from which you will hear his testimony.
· You will see he has no shoes. And if you are close by, you may notice an odour. Please understand, my young friend doesn't have access to soap.
· These are Okello's words: "I remember one night in June, the rebels attacked Karimojong district. They burst into our home and raped my sister Agwaki. My father refused to let me go with them, so they torched our hut.
· So my parents had no choice - we had to flee. We left everything behind, our land and our goat. My father lost his job, my mother the land where we grew our food. My sister hasn't recovered from the rape. That night, we were all sent to hell.
· Ever since, I have felt hungry. But my three-year-old brother suffered most. My mother took him to a clinic run by muzungu, white people. They told her he would have to spend a month there, but he had to stay much longer - the clinic didn't always have the food it needed, and even the muzungu could not work properly.
· As for me, I worry every day that the rebels will come back and take me away to be a soldier. So like most of my friends, I go to sleep in the grounds of the local hospital. For now, that is the only safe place to sleep.
· In the name of my people, I want to thank you for letting me tell you my story. Please help bring peace back to our country.
[pause]
· Ladies and gentlemen, Okello's fate is not unusual. On the contrary. There are about 45 million people in countries such as Liberia, Cote d'Ivoire, Somalia, Sudan or Chechnya, where there are children with similar stories.
· Like so many others, Okello is being denied his most basic needs and human rights. It's hard to know what to say when you are confronted with this reality, as I was on my trip to Uganda.
· Our first reaction, our instinct, would be to go to Okello and comfort him. To reassure Okello that the world has not forgotten about his daily nightmare. We will get out our check books, we will commit the funds needed to put an end to such misery.
· But if I tell Okello that the international community has been trying to help in the past years, would he believe me? Especially if I tell him the truth, that last year's appeal did not win funding for sectors as important as agriculture in his country?
· Can you think of a way to explain that lack of funding means that the so-called protected camps offer no protection from diarrhoea and intestinal worms, and no treatment for respiratory diseases including pneumonia?
· Remember the Balkans. I don't wish to downplay the horror of what happened there, but in some ways, the people there were the lucky ones - they got blanket media coverage and resources, while for long-running African crises such as those in Sudan, Angola, aid agencies struggled to find funds.
· That is why OCHA has reinforced its media strategy to focus public attention on its
annual Consolidated Appeals. OCHA knows that sustained media attention, is important to creating political movement. Its Flash Appeals keep abreast of every “forgotten emergency” with their concise overview of life-saving needs. Sad to say, most of these "forgotten emergencies" are in Africa.
Mr. President,
· A recent study underlined that foreign policy interests or, rather, a lack of thereof, are to a large extent responsible for the phenomenon of “forgotten emergencies”. The good news is that donors have recognized their shortcomings. They've started the Good Humanitarian Donorship process in Stockholm, to make aid more responsive to needs. They have selected Burundi and the Democratic Republic of the Congo as pilot Consolidated Appeals for the implementation of good humanitarian donorship. I am convinced this will help raise the level of funding for countries with daunting needs which last year only received 28% and 37% of their aid requirements.
· Let us hope that the donor community will be ready to finance this year's appeal in full. If we raise $128 million dollars for the estimated 1.2 million displaced in forgotten Uganda, that would mean $106 dollars per person. Surely that's not too much to ask.
· I made myself a promise not to let Okello down. I can remember his voice. I can still picture the skinny boy near Kitgum's district hospital, holding his piece of bread. I would like to go back next year, and look him in the eye, and tell him that we care and that we have not let him down.
Thank you, Mr President.
La mort d`un être cher
La mort d`un être cher
Distraitement, en faisant mon courriel (il est rare qu`une femme ne fasse qu`une chose à la fois) j`écoute Maryse Chartrand parler du suicide de son compagnon à "Tout le monde en parle". Je ne connais pas cette déchirure causée par le suicide mais plutôt par la perte soudaine de mon compagnon Emanuele, lorsque je vivais à Rome.
Oui, tout comme elle, j`ai senti que mon monde s`est écroulé.
Je ne me souviens plus de grand chose de ces jours qui ont suivi sa mort, sinon d`un grand nuage gris autour de moi, d`une impression de vide absolu. Sa mort est survenue un mois avant mon 40è anniversaire.
Pourtant, la vie reprend toujours le dessus, sur tout...
Elle a aussi du reprendre le dessus lorsque impuissante, cinq mois plus tard, je me suis postée devant CNN lorsque j`ai su qu`une bombe avait explosée sur les bureaux des Nations Unies en Iraq. Un de mes très cher ami était en poste là-bas...
La longue attente a donc commencé. A chaque minute je priais et j`espérais que le miracle se produise, que l`on puisse extirper son corps vivant des décombres de l`Hôtel Canal.
Deux heures de tortures, d`un calvaire indicible ou à chaque minute j`ai eu envie de vomir ma peine et de crier ma douleur. Les larmes ont cessé, j`avais tout pleuré le réservoir... Un lac de larmes s`était formé entre la télé et ma chaise de fortune installé dans le bureau de presse du Programme Alimentaire Mondial, en Italie, mon lieu de travail à l`époque.
Voilà que je me retrouve à pleurer une deuxième personne qui m`était aussi très chère. A vrai dire, je ne savais plus qui je pleurais, le 1er ou le 2e. Les larmes étaient confuses - le coeur en morceaux et l`âme ne voulait plus continuer...
Au moment ou CNN a annoncé la nouvelle que je redoutais tant, que mon cher ami avait succombé à ses blessures (il était visé, lui, le Chef), la terre s`est dérobée sous mes pieds; une amie a du me ramener à la maison car j`aurais été incapable de me reconduire - j`aurais errée et je me serais certainement perdue.
C`était mon 2e black out,. Je ne me souviens plus de rien ou presque, sauf de la sonnerie incéssante de mon téléphone; mes amis m`appelaient pour m`encourager. Ils ne trouvaient pas les mots car dans ces moments là, existent-ils encore des mots pour apaiser le coeur d`une amie souffrante de la perte de tant de personnes chères? Je ne crois pas...
Et pourtant... Petit à petit, le temps à fait son oeuvre. Il a fallu presque deux ans pour me remettre de ces pertes... Me voilà de nouveau profondément heureuse avec ma petite Xin Fa...
Marie-France
Sun Nov 25 21:12:00 EST 2007 |
Distraitement, en faisant mon courriel (il est rare qu`une femme ne fasse qu`une chose à la fois) j`écoute Maryse Chartrand parler du suicide de son compagnon à "Tout le monde en parle". Je ne connais pas cette déchirure causée par le suicide mais plutôt par la perte soudaine de mon compagnon Emanuele, lorsque je vivais à Rome.
Oui, tout comme elle, j`ai senti que mon monde s`est écroulé.
Je ne me souviens plus de grand chose de ces jours qui ont suivi sa mort, sinon d`un grand nuage gris autour de moi, d`une impression de vide absolu. Sa mort est survenue un mois avant mon 40è anniversaire.
Pourtant, la vie reprend toujours le dessus, sur tout...
Elle a aussi du reprendre le dessus lorsque impuissante, cinq mois plus tard, je me suis postée devant CNN lorsque j`ai su qu`une bombe avait explosée sur les bureaux des Nations Unies en Iraq. Un de mes très cher ami était en poste là-bas...
La longue attente a donc commencé. A chaque minute je priais et j`espérais que le miracle se produise, que l`on puisse extirper son corps vivant des décombres de l`Hôtel Canal.
Deux heures de tortures, d`un calvaire indicible ou à chaque minute j`ai eu envie de vomir ma peine et de crier ma douleur. Les larmes ont cessé, j`avais tout pleuré le réservoir... Un lac de larmes s`était formé entre la télé et ma chaise de fortune installé dans le bureau de presse du Programme Alimentaire Mondial, en Italie, mon lieu de travail à l`époque.
Voilà que je me retrouve à pleurer une deuxième personne qui m`était aussi très chère. A vrai dire, je ne savais plus qui je pleurais, le 1er ou le 2e. Les larmes étaient confuses - le coeur en morceaux et l`âme ne voulait plus continuer...
Au moment ou CNN a annoncé la nouvelle que je redoutais tant, que mon cher ami avait succombé à ses blessures (il était visé, lui, le Chef), la terre s`est dérobée sous mes pieds; une amie a du me ramener à la maison car j`aurais été incapable de me reconduire - j`aurais errée et je me serais certainement perdue.
C`était mon 2e black out,. Je ne me souviens plus de rien ou presque, sauf de la sonnerie incéssante de mon téléphone; mes amis m`appelaient pour m`encourager. Ils ne trouvaient pas les mots car dans ces moments là, existent-ils encore des mots pour apaiser le coeur d`une amie souffrante de la perte de tant de personnes chères? Je ne crois pas...
Et pourtant... Petit à petit, le temps à fait son oeuvre. Il a fallu presque deux ans pour me remettre de ces pertes... Me voilà de nouveau profondément heureuse avec ma petite Xin Fa...
Marie-France
Sun Nov 25 21:12:00 EST 2007 |
dimanche 18 novembre 2007
Sergio Viera de Mello - Foundation
News: The Sergio Vieira de Mello Foundation
"M - Requiem for Baghdad" was one of the most emotional short stories my friend Peter wrote for "The Road to the Horizon". For him, it was a challenge to weave that many personal emotions into one story. Emotions about the war in Iraq and Afghanistan, the turn the world made on 9/11, the humanitarian operations we were closely involved in after the invasions of Iraq and Afghanistan.
The story was written with the bombing of the Canal Hotel, the UN HQ in Baghdad, on August 19 2003 as the center part. That day still represents a very very dark period for me. A day I lost M, a close friend, due to senseless violence she had no part in. A day I lost several of my colleagues, and where several people in my team got severely wounded. A day which scarred many of us even up today.
One of the people we lost was Sergio de Mello, who was the UN Secretary General's Special Envoy to Iraq at the time. A remarkable person I had the privilege to meet several times.His memory is still alive for many of us, so much that several people put their heads together, and decided to start a foundation in his honour. This is the message they just sent out:19 August 2003 was a sad day for the United Nations and all those who believe that peace and security can be achieved through dialogue and international cooperation.
On that fateful day, Sergio Vieira de Mello and 21 of his UN colleagues and associates fell victims to the first of a long series of violent acts that have characterized the Iraq war.
With Sergio Vieira de Mello's cruel disappearance, the world has not only lost a brilliant and charismatic advocate of peace and human rights but also a tireless and highly effective humanitarian champion.He represented the best the UN could offer in terms of promoting multilateral solutions to today's world's most challenging situations.
He remains a sterling example of selfless service for many to emulate.His brutal death provoked an outburst of sympathy and moving testimonies of high esteem and deep regret for his untimely loss. In acknowledgment of this widespread sentiments and growing movement to honour his memory and pursue his ideals, the Sergio Vieira de Mello Foundation has been created at the initiative of a small group of friends, colleagues and family to continue his unfinished work.
Dedicated to promoting dialogue for the peaceful resolution of conflict, the Sergio Vieira De Mello Foundation has been established as an international entity under Swiss law to continue Sergio’s mission and fulfill his vision through:• An Annual Prize in his name awarded to individuals, institutions or communities in recognition of their outstanding and unique work undertaken to achieve peaceful reconciliation between peoples and parties in conflict, through dialogue.
• Supporting the initiatives and efforts of individuals, institutions and communities engaged in applying dialogue for promoting peaceful reconciliation and co-existence between peoples and communities divided by conflict.• Supporting and encouraging academic and research institutions to conduct research and studies in the relevant areas of multilateral humanitarian action to which he devoted his life and on which he left a lasting impact.
• Establishing a Scholarship in his name to be awarded to selected academically outstanding children of victims of humanitarian conflict.The Foundation's website is expected to be operational soon.
The Foundation is in the process of establishing an Electronic Address List of "Friends of Sergio" for communicating directly with them to update and involve them continuously in the Foundation's work."
I will keep you posted.
Posted by Peter Casier, my friend on his blog on 31.10.07 0 comments
"M - Requiem for Baghdad" was one of the most emotional short stories my friend Peter wrote for "The Road to the Horizon". For him, it was a challenge to weave that many personal emotions into one story. Emotions about the war in Iraq and Afghanistan, the turn the world made on 9/11, the humanitarian operations we were closely involved in after the invasions of Iraq and Afghanistan.
The story was written with the bombing of the Canal Hotel, the UN HQ in Baghdad, on August 19 2003 as the center part. That day still represents a very very dark period for me. A day I lost M, a close friend, due to senseless violence she had no part in. A day I lost several of my colleagues, and where several people in my team got severely wounded. A day which scarred many of us even up today.
One of the people we lost was Sergio de Mello, who was the UN Secretary General's Special Envoy to Iraq at the time. A remarkable person I had the privilege to meet several times.His memory is still alive for many of us, so much that several people put their heads together, and decided to start a foundation in his honour. This is the message they just sent out:19 August 2003 was a sad day for the United Nations and all those who believe that peace and security can be achieved through dialogue and international cooperation.
On that fateful day, Sergio Vieira de Mello and 21 of his UN colleagues and associates fell victims to the first of a long series of violent acts that have characterized the Iraq war.
With Sergio Vieira de Mello's cruel disappearance, the world has not only lost a brilliant and charismatic advocate of peace and human rights but also a tireless and highly effective humanitarian champion.He represented the best the UN could offer in terms of promoting multilateral solutions to today's world's most challenging situations.
He remains a sterling example of selfless service for many to emulate.His brutal death provoked an outburst of sympathy and moving testimonies of high esteem and deep regret for his untimely loss. In acknowledgment of this widespread sentiments and growing movement to honour his memory and pursue his ideals, the Sergio Vieira de Mello Foundation has been created at the initiative of a small group of friends, colleagues and family to continue his unfinished work.
Dedicated to promoting dialogue for the peaceful resolution of conflict, the Sergio Vieira De Mello Foundation has been established as an international entity under Swiss law to continue Sergio’s mission and fulfill his vision through:• An Annual Prize in his name awarded to individuals, institutions or communities in recognition of their outstanding and unique work undertaken to achieve peaceful reconciliation between peoples and parties in conflict, through dialogue.
• Supporting the initiatives and efforts of individuals, institutions and communities engaged in applying dialogue for promoting peaceful reconciliation and co-existence between peoples and communities divided by conflict.• Supporting and encouraging academic and research institutions to conduct research and studies in the relevant areas of multilateral humanitarian action to which he devoted his life and on which he left a lasting impact.
• Establishing a Scholarship in his name to be awarded to selected academically outstanding children of victims of humanitarian conflict.The Foundation's website is expected to be operational soon.
The Foundation is in the process of establishing an Electronic Address List of "Friends of Sergio" for communicating directly with them to update and involve them continuously in the Foundation's work."
I will keep you posted.
Posted by Peter Casier, my friend on his blog on 31.10.07 0 comments
mardi 30 octobre 2007
Congo refugees leave everything for Uganda
As the craziness does not seem to stop in the DRCongo, I decided to post this - source Reuters.
--- Congo refugees leave everything for Uganda --- 29 Oct 2007 16:22:00 GMT
Congolese refugees wait to register with the U.N. refugee agency at a tented centre in Nyakabande, southwest Uganda, by Tim Cocks
NYAKABANDE, Uganda, Oct 29 (Reuters) - Four days ago, Louis Makasi was the proud owner of a drugstore -- modest, but still functioning amidst the chaos of eastern Congo's vicious war.
Now his sole possessions are a cracked jerry can, torn clothes and a cooking pot with nothing to cook in it.
"I tried to stay back but the fighting got too bad," he said, describing how men with guns had rampaged through his village last week, raping women and machine-gunning passers-by.
"I heard shots everywhere, I saw bullets flying around like locusts. The rebels blocked many of us as we tried to flee, saying we must stay and suffer."
Makasi is one of nearly 13,000 refugees who managed to escape the surging violence in Democratic Republic of Congo's lawless east in the past week, crossing the border into Uganda.
"I brought my family here, but I have no food, nothing I can give them," the 26-year-old father of six said, as he sat next to a makeshift tent pitched from white plastic sheets.
Tens of thousands of Congolese have fled in the past few weeks from North Kivu province in the face of some of the worst fighting since the end of Congo's 1998-2003 war, which drew in six countries and killed nearly 4 million people.
Sporadic clashes in North Kivu have worsened since August, when renegade general Laurent Nkunda pulled out of a January ceasefire with the government.
Congolese President Joseph Kabila has threatened a military offensive to forcibly disarm Nkunda's rebel Tutsi soldiers if they do not give themselves up.
Nkunda offered on Wednesday to start demobilising 500 of his estimated 4,000 troops but diplomats doubt his sincerity.
DESPERATE TO RETURN
Refugees fleeing Congo's violence often take flight to western Uganda, then head back within days, but the United Nations Refugee Agency (UNHCR) says the numbers flowing into the mountainous border province of Kisoro are steadily rising.
Flanked by towering black volcanos, Kisoro is home to forests housing Uganda's legendary mountain gorillas, the country's top earner of tourist dollars.
In a field ringed by green hills and volcanic peaks shrouded in wispy clouds, refugees dumped the few possessions they had salvaged -- mattresses, plastic wash basins, bags of clothes -- and sat waiting.
A lucky few with food stirred pots over smoking charcoal.
Jeune Rose Ayimikaye, 51, managed to escape Nkunda's rebels when they raided her village at night, but lost two of her eight sons in the process. Now she fears they have joined the ranks of his child soldiers.
"I saw rebels rape a 62-year-old woman. They were beating anyone still in their houses. They shot a child. I ran," she said. "I don't even know if my sons are alive or dead."
Women in kaleidoscopic dresses, some balancing more than one infant, queued to register at the UNHCR office, a white tent in a field strewn with other similar tents.
"We require more resources, food and non-food items," UNHCR representative for western Uganda Ilmi Diis Adan told Reuters.
"We need a minimum three weeks ... to see if the situation stabilises and give the refugees a choice to be relocated to a settlement or go back," he added.
Refugees said they were desperate to return home but few held out hope of doing so soon.
"There's nothing for us for here," said 37-year-old Jean Sobobera. "But we're going to die in Congo."
--- Congo refugees leave everything for Uganda --- 29 Oct 2007 16:22:00 GMT
Congolese refugees wait to register with the U.N. refugee agency at a tented centre in Nyakabande, southwest Uganda, by Tim Cocks
NYAKABANDE, Uganda, Oct 29 (Reuters) - Four days ago, Louis Makasi was the proud owner of a drugstore -- modest, but still functioning amidst the chaos of eastern Congo's vicious war.
Now his sole possessions are a cracked jerry can, torn clothes and a cooking pot with nothing to cook in it.
"I tried to stay back but the fighting got too bad," he said, describing how men with guns had rampaged through his village last week, raping women and machine-gunning passers-by.
"I heard shots everywhere, I saw bullets flying around like locusts. The rebels blocked many of us as we tried to flee, saying we must stay and suffer."
Makasi is one of nearly 13,000 refugees who managed to escape the surging violence in Democratic Republic of Congo's lawless east in the past week, crossing the border into Uganda.
"I brought my family here, but I have no food, nothing I can give them," the 26-year-old father of six said, as he sat next to a makeshift tent pitched from white plastic sheets.
Tens of thousands of Congolese have fled in the past few weeks from North Kivu province in the face of some of the worst fighting since the end of Congo's 1998-2003 war, which drew in six countries and killed nearly 4 million people.
Sporadic clashes in North Kivu have worsened since August, when renegade general Laurent Nkunda pulled out of a January ceasefire with the government.
Congolese President Joseph Kabila has threatened a military offensive to forcibly disarm Nkunda's rebel Tutsi soldiers if they do not give themselves up.
Nkunda offered on Wednesday to start demobilising 500 of his estimated 4,000 troops but diplomats doubt his sincerity.
DESPERATE TO RETURN
Refugees fleeing Congo's violence often take flight to western Uganda, then head back within days, but the United Nations Refugee Agency (UNHCR) says the numbers flowing into the mountainous border province of Kisoro are steadily rising.
Flanked by towering black volcanos, Kisoro is home to forests housing Uganda's legendary mountain gorillas, the country's top earner of tourist dollars.
In a field ringed by green hills and volcanic peaks shrouded in wispy clouds, refugees dumped the few possessions they had salvaged -- mattresses, plastic wash basins, bags of clothes -- and sat waiting.
A lucky few with food stirred pots over smoking charcoal.
Jeune Rose Ayimikaye, 51, managed to escape Nkunda's rebels when they raided her village at night, but lost two of her eight sons in the process. Now she fears they have joined the ranks of his child soldiers.
"I saw rebels rape a 62-year-old woman. They were beating anyone still in their houses. They shot a child. I ran," she said. "I don't even know if my sons are alive or dead."
Women in kaleidoscopic dresses, some balancing more than one infant, queued to register at the UNHCR office, a white tent in a field strewn with other similar tents.
"We require more resources, food and non-food items," UNHCR representative for western Uganda Ilmi Diis Adan told Reuters.
"We need a minimum three weeks ... to see if the situation stabilises and give the refugees a choice to be relocated to a settlement or go back," he added.
Refugees said they were desperate to return home but few held out hope of doing so soon.
"There's nothing for us for here," said 37-year-old Jean Sobobera. "But we're going to die in Congo."
mercredi 22 août 2007
The Pope`s last journey (2005)
Vatican City, April 7th 2005
Dear friends,
All streets lead to Rome, this "saying" has never been so true as today as thousands of pilgrims have invaded Vatican city. Today Thursday, I am writing in-direct from Via Della Conciliation, the road leading the St-Peter`s Basilica to the Pope`s very last trip.
Knowing how long pilgrims had waited up to 24 hours for some and tales of 36 hours have been heard) to pay their respects to John Paul II, I arrived early Tuesday morning in Vatican city and I found myself surrounded by thousands and thousands of lay people, nones, clergy, families with babies and enthusiastic youth groups who had also reached the Vatican. All these silent pilgrims had been queuing in an orderly fashion (quite contrary to the Italians which is extraordinary!!!)
I stopped by my ex-office at the Canadian Embassy to the Holy See, which is conveniently located right on the... via Della Conciliation, some 200 meters from St Peter's square (as some of you may remember, I worked for the Canadian World Youth Day which took place in Toronto in July 2002 and I had the chance to work for the Pope and meet him).
A ex-colleague of mine suggested we go and pay our respects to the Pontiff. Believe it or not, we reached the Basilica through the back door (thanks to our passes) and in less than minutes I was standing in front of the world`s most famous pilgrim. It was unreal and magic; once it was the Italian policeman and another time it was the Swiss Gard's were opening the gates in front of us as we were swiftly proceeding. I could not contain my joy and my surprise...
Imagine the solemnity of the moment. I was suddenly in front of him. The crowd was silently queuing to see the Pope - these people were crying, praying and looking at him in awe. For so many, it was the first time "to see him". You could see the grief on their faces. As if the entire world was mourning a hero - and so it was...
I was moved and tears came to my eyes... I noticed his shoes, the one of a Peace pilgrim who had traveled throughout the world... As you may know, as tradition has it, Pope can not be embalmed so he looked different.
A moment like this in a life time is to be cherished. You may say that I am a bit morbid but its not the case as his death was a delivrance since he had been suffering in silence for so many years.
While I was looking at him, I thanked him for the intense moments I had lived and witnessed during the year preparatory to the World Youth Day and for his ecumenical work around the world. And also, for the impact he has had on my life. I remembered as a kid when JPI suddenly died few months after his nomination and suddenly, there weas this new Pope, young, athletic and
When we came out of the Basilica, I could see the gigantic line up (up to 2 million persons yesterday) that had grown while we were inside. I had brought some candles and I light them up near by one of the pillars on the famous Via Della Conciliation.
These candles I lighted where for my family, my future daughter I will adopt from China, for my friends and colleagues wherever they may be and I thank the pontif for his tireless campaign for Peace. I sincerely hope that my little prayer reaches you...
Last night, Wednesday, the news said that the Vatican had been barred to all pilgrims. However, I still decided to come and try my luck as a friend of mine came expressly from Geneva. As an entrance pass, I decided to use my ex_Embassy business card to let us in, and it worked, thank God.
Hence, since we arrived at 7h00 this morning, my friend has been lining up to see the pontiff's body. I stayed with him for a few hours, lining up and got the chills... It was windy and damp. But, the Civil protection officers distributed hot chocolate and during the night, pilgrims were even given blankets... Not bad for an improvised pilgrim bed and breakfast.
I will stay here tonight and rest in the stairs of the Embassy waiting for St_Peter's square to be opened to the pilgrims in view of tomorrow's mass at 10h00. It would be crazy for me to leave my golden spot!!! Not all pilgrims will be able to attend the Mass on the Piazza has it can only hold so many people. Numbers are usually 300 000 but this time, they may cramp more people. Huge screens are being set up throughout the city.
Poles have invaded the Vatican. There are hundreds of these red and white banners reminding me of the Polish pilgrimage I have done in Poland back in 1984 when Solidarity was in full swing...
Later....
I have now just returned from the Vatican walls, all the way up to the entrance door of the Pope's private apartment. Imagine that the Embassy's driver, my ex_colleague invited me to join in (he picked up the precious yellow tickets which will allow our Prime Minister and his entourage - five altogether - to assist to the Mass.)
Oh, it was so wonderful to wisk through all the barricades and be saluted by all these Swiss Guards. What a great feeling... There is a fervent fever running around. Its beautiful and I am glad to share this precious moment with you.
Thinking of you in these spiritual moments.
Marie-France
Dear friends,
All streets lead to Rome, this "saying" has never been so true as today as thousands of pilgrims have invaded Vatican city. Today Thursday, I am writing in-direct from Via Della Conciliation, the road leading the St-Peter`s Basilica to the Pope`s very last trip.
Knowing how long pilgrims had waited up to 24 hours for some and tales of 36 hours have been heard) to pay their respects to John Paul II, I arrived early Tuesday morning in Vatican city and I found myself surrounded by thousands and thousands of lay people, nones, clergy, families with babies and enthusiastic youth groups who had also reached the Vatican. All these silent pilgrims had been queuing in an orderly fashion (quite contrary to the Italians which is extraordinary!!!)
I stopped by my ex-office at the Canadian Embassy to the Holy See, which is conveniently located right on the... via Della Conciliation, some 200 meters from St Peter's square (as some of you may remember, I worked for the Canadian World Youth Day which took place in Toronto in July 2002 and I had the chance to work for the Pope and meet him).
A ex-colleague of mine suggested we go and pay our respects to the Pontiff. Believe it or not, we reached the Basilica through the back door (thanks to our passes) and in less than minutes I was standing in front of the world`s most famous pilgrim. It was unreal and magic; once it was the Italian policeman and another time it was the Swiss Gard's were opening the gates in front of us as we were swiftly proceeding. I could not contain my joy and my surprise...
Imagine the solemnity of the moment. I was suddenly in front of him. The crowd was silently queuing to see the Pope - these people were crying, praying and looking at him in awe. For so many, it was the first time "to see him". You could see the grief on their faces. As if the entire world was mourning a hero - and so it was...
I was moved and tears came to my eyes... I noticed his shoes, the one of a Peace pilgrim who had traveled throughout the world... As you may know, as tradition has it, Pope can not be embalmed so he looked different.
A moment like this in a life time is to be cherished. You may say that I am a bit morbid but its not the case as his death was a delivrance since he had been suffering in silence for so many years.
While I was looking at him, I thanked him for the intense moments I had lived and witnessed during the year preparatory to the World Youth Day and for his ecumenical work around the world. And also, for the impact he has had on my life. I remembered as a kid when JPI suddenly died few months after his nomination and suddenly, there weas this new Pope, young, athletic and
When we came out of the Basilica, I could see the gigantic line up (up to 2 million persons yesterday) that had grown while we were inside. I had brought some candles and I light them up near by one of the pillars on the famous Via Della Conciliation.
These candles I lighted where for my family, my future daughter I will adopt from China, for my friends and colleagues wherever they may be and I thank the pontif for his tireless campaign for Peace. I sincerely hope that my little prayer reaches you...
Last night, Wednesday, the news said that the Vatican had been barred to all pilgrims. However, I still decided to come and try my luck as a friend of mine came expressly from Geneva. As an entrance pass, I decided to use my ex_Embassy business card to let us in, and it worked, thank God.
Hence, since we arrived at 7h00 this morning, my friend has been lining up to see the pontiff's body. I stayed with him for a few hours, lining up and got the chills... It was windy and damp. But, the Civil protection officers distributed hot chocolate and during the night, pilgrims were even given blankets... Not bad for an improvised pilgrim bed and breakfast.
I will stay here tonight and rest in the stairs of the Embassy waiting for St_Peter's square to be opened to the pilgrims in view of tomorrow's mass at 10h00. It would be crazy for me to leave my golden spot!!! Not all pilgrims will be able to attend the Mass on the Piazza has it can only hold so many people. Numbers are usually 300 000 but this time, they may cramp more people. Huge screens are being set up throughout the city.
Poles have invaded the Vatican. There are hundreds of these red and white banners reminding me of the Polish pilgrimage I have done in Poland back in 1984 when Solidarity was in full swing...
Later....
I have now just returned from the Vatican walls, all the way up to the entrance door of the Pope's private apartment. Imagine that the Embassy's driver, my ex_colleague invited me to join in (he picked up the precious yellow tickets which will allow our Prime Minister and his entourage - five altogether - to assist to the Mass.)
Oh, it was so wonderful to wisk through all the barricades and be saluted by all these Swiss Guards. What a great feeling... There is a fervent fever running around. Its beautiful and I am glad to share this precious moment with you.
Thinking of you in these spiritual moments.
Marie-France
lundi 20 août 2007
4 years ago - the bomb in Baghdad
I wanted to write about the impact of the bomb in Baghdad on this very day 4 years ago but my dog suddenly died tonight and my heart is somewhere else..........
Sorry........
Adventure mum
Sorry........
Adventure mum
dimanche 19 août 2007
Julia is from Tim Tim - Julia est de Tim Tim
Article paru dans le Rapport Annuel de ECHO (Union Européenne en 1999)Marie-France Bourgeois, ancienne coordinatrice d’ECHO (Union Européenne) en Corée du Nord a rédigé cet article lors d’une mission d’évaluation des besoins humanitaires pour le Programme Alimentaire Mondial (PAM) pour le Timor-Oriental (maintenant devenu le Timor Leste).
Julia a huit ans. Elle a de magnifiques cheveux longs, et ses yeux s’illuminent tandis qu’elle rit en m’entendant essayer de m’exprimer en tétum, la principale langue utilisée au Timor oriental. Julia est de TimTim, au Timor oriental. Je viens de m’inviter chez elle dans le camp de réfugiés situé dans le district de Belu au Timor occidental. Je suis assise sur un lit de planches, qui sert également de table dans une petite cuisine enfumée. Il fait extrêmement chaud et je transpire à grosses gouttes, mais je ne peux laisser échapper cette occasion unique de parler au clan des femmes de cette famille réunies autour de moi.
La mère de Julia,Lucia, prépare du riz et des feuilles de manioc. Il est une heure et demie, le déjeuner sera bientôt servi. La grand-mère Maria sourit, laissant entrevoir ses dents rouges. Maria a mâché de la noix de bétel toute sa vie et ce rouge vif a coloré ses dents et a abîmé ses gencives. Judy, mon interprète du Timor occidental, m’explique que chiquer de la noix de bétel a le même effet que fumer une première cigarette. La grand-mère m’en propose, je décline poliment.
Il y a une autre pièce dans cette habitation rudimentaire. Il s’agit de la chambre à coucher familiale dotée d’une moustiquaire fournie par une organisation humanitaire internationale sous laquelle dort toute la famille pour se protéger des piqûres de moustiques porteurs de la malaria. Apparemment, les seuls autres biens sont des vêtements et une statue de la Vierge Marie.
Comment Julia et les autres membres de sa famille sont-ils arrivés ici ? Ils ont fui la ville de Suai au Timor oriental au début du mois de septembre, lorsque les milices pro-indonésiennes ont systématiquement expulsé la population, abattu le bétail et incendié les habitations. Ils n’ont pas eu le temps d’organiser leur départ et se sont contentés d’emporter ce qu’ils pouvaient de manioc, de maïs et de riz. Ils ont laissé derrière eux une des villes les plus saccagées que j’ai vues au Timor oriental lorsque je m’y trouvais à la fin du mois de novembre 1999.
C’était comme un immense terrain de camping, je n’avais jamais rien vu de pareil. Les gens qui venaient de rentrer du Timor occidental après deux mois d’absence campaient sous des bâches en plastique accrochées, pour les plus nantis, aux restes d’antennes paraboliques. Les familles plus modestes devaient se contenter d’abris de fortune faits de feuilles de palmiers, à côté des cendres de leurs habitations. Ils se réunissaient tous pour discuter le soir à la lumière de leurs lampes à pétrole. Il n’y avait ni électricité, ni marché pour acheter de la nourriture.
Cependant, le mois de novembre était une bonne période pour revenir : c’est la saison des semailles. Suai est l’une des régions les plus fertiles du Timor oriental. On y cultive le maïs et le riz. Revenons à Julia au Timor occidental. Nous sommes maintenant au début du mois de février et la famille a épuisé ses stocks de vivres depuis longtemps. Elle doit compter sur le riz fourni par le Programme Alimentaire Mondial ou d’autres organisations humanitaires et sur l’argent qu’elle reçoit du gouvernement, c’est-à-dire 1.500 rupiah par jour et par personne, l’équivalent de 0,14 dollars. Cet argent lui permet de faire quelques extras comme par exemple acheter des légumes frais. Néanmoins, l’apport en protéines nécessaires à une croissance normale n’est pas suffisant pour Julia et ses frères et soeurs.
Le PAM (programme alimentaire mondial - WFP in English) s’occupera de la coordination de l’aide alimentaire en vue d’assurer aux enfants comme Julia une alimentation équilibrée avec les protéines et les substances nutritives indispensables à leur croissance. L’histoire de Julia et de sa famille ressemble à celle de la plupart des personnes venues se réfugier au Timor occidental. Elles croyaient que ce serait seulement pour un court séjour. Mais elles sont toujours là soit parce qu’elles sont terrorisées par les milices, soit parce qu’elles ne veulent pas rentrer chez elles pour des raisons de sécurité.
La mère de Julia raconte qu’elle ne sait pas ce qu’il est advenu de son frère qui est rentré avec sa famille à Bobonaro dans la région du Timor oriental où l’on cultive le café pour essayer d’améliorer ses conditions de vie. Julia ignore tout cela. Ce qui la dérange le plus, c’est qu’elle ne peut plus aller à l’école pour le moment. Sa mère n’a pas les moyens de lui offrir l’uniforme obligatoire dans les écoles d’État du Timor occidental : un chemisier blanc et une jupe rouge.
Timor oriental
Adventure mum - 1999
samedi 18 août 2007
Chambre des communes du Canada; personnalité de l`année 1996
En 1996, j`ai été nommé PERSONNALITÉ DE L'ANNÉE DE DRUMMONDVILLE ex-aequo avec Jean Guilbeault - voici un texte qui a été annoncé aux chambres des communes du Canada en 1997.
Mme Pauline Picard (Drummond, Bloc Québécois): Monsieur le Président, le titre très convoité de personnalité de l'année, décerné par la Chambre de commerce de Drummond, lors du 14e Gala des affaires, a été mérité par deux jeunes Drummondvillois.
Marie-France Bourgeois, première Québécoise et première Canadienne à obtenir un diplôme du collège de Long Island en développement international, oeuvre maintenant en Afrique pour le compte des Nations Unies au sein du Programme alimentaire mondial (WFP in english). Cette jeune femme de 33 ans est mandatée par l'ONU pour coordonner les distributions de vivres à 670 000 réfugiés hutus en Tanzanie. Dans un contexte politique fort troublé, elle doit, pour soulager la misère de ces peuples, agir avec efficacité et diplomatie.
Je veux aussi féliciter Jean Guilbeault, également désigné personnalité de l'année. Il est le premier Drummondvillois à faire partie de l'équipe sélecte des pilotes des Snowbirds.
À ces deux jeunes qui nous font honneur, je souhaite une fructueuse carrière qui les conduira au bout de leur rêve.
vendredi 17 août 2007
A blind witness to heavy fighting in Kinshasa - March 2007
Dear all,
I (we) have gone through “sheer hell” these past few days. We knew something was in the making. As I was driving to work on Thursday morning, I saw the UN Mission (MONUC) soldiers had reinforced their troops around Bemba’s house (he is the former vice president who also happens to have lost the first democratic elections last year). Bemba is also the man behind last August's fighting and the continued recurrence of violence last fall. Luckily for me, I had to go to the Chinese Embassy to get my visa for the big trip of my life. On my way back to the office, I realised that Bemba’s troops (we recognise them with their red bandannas) and the Government troops were positioning themselves to start fighting. It was eerie. People were fleeing, by foot and by the hundreds. I thought: "I am dreaming all of this!". I asked my driver to hurry home.
The heavy gun and mortar fire broke out just after I arrived home and it went on for a seven hours marathon. As the UN Secretary General mentioned: the civilian population was "seriously threatened by fighting in the heart of the city". Well, it just happens that the heart of the city is where both my office and my little bungalow are located. Charming isn’t?
There are many stories to be told; children stranded in schools, colleagues stranded in our building, and several friends and acquaintances stranded at their offices. All of us cut off from the world for a solid two days. Some did not have food but most had enough water. Since I am known to be a little squirrel, as I always leave food in my office, my colleagues could help themselves in my pantry!
I spent Thursday afternoon on the floor of my bathroom, as I felt my kitchen floor was not secure enough this time, as it has a big window. The sounds were unbearable, I tried to read, to write, to pray, to listen music… I just sat there, motionless. It sounded as if a constant fire works exploded but with an intensity difficult to describe to someone who has never heard such sounds. When grenades exploded near by, my little bungalow shook like a palm leave. I feared bullets landing inside my house, as it has been the case for several people.
I was in constant touch with friends and the MONUC soldiers. My cleaning lady was with me and she was very scared. I had to calm her down. This helped me to stay composed and alert. She and some 15 staff working in my compound stayed overnight. Luckily, I had enough rice to feed everyone…
Just as last August, I was the blind witness to a war. This one was worse, though. In fact, some told me that the fighting was the worse Kinshasa had known in 20 years! Casualties are heavy this time, some 700 persons were killed: 500 were soldiers and the rest are civilians. One young woman was sipping a drink at the bar of a hotel, another was killed watching TV and a colonel and his kids were shot dead when he was trying to bring them home from school prior to the start of the fighting! Homeless women were found dead with their babies on the street, as they were trying to flee for a secure shelter.
A friend of mine described how the streets were full of corpses by Thursday night. By dawn the next day and just prior to the start of the battle on the 2nd day (it started at 5h00 in the morning by the explosion of the oil reserves), the victim corpses were quickly dumped in the Congo river… That’s why official statistics only mention 160 losses!!!
There were many acts of bravery. Kids from a primary school had to be evacuated, as they were in the eye of the storm. Imagine little kids being transported in armored vehicles. They were repatriated at the French Embassy and were good as gold… For OCHA, our main casualty is a house converted into an office: it was damaged as shelling fell against the wall. Many windows were shattered and received bullets. I also found many bullets in my garden at home.
My neighbor received “lost bullets” in his living room and my other neighbor’s bedroom was cribbed with bullets. My UNICEF friend was evacuated by courageous Uruguachos during the battle as the building received some mortars shells. Luckily, they did not explode. If they had, both UNICEF and the Spanish Embassy staff would have been killed.
On Saturday, by lunch time, after 48 hours, just like all of us in Kinshasa, I finally ventured outside. Shops were full of people sharing stories and buying food. We were all happy to be alive and have escaped "hell on earth". Yesterday, the boys and I after our polo game ordered wine and made a toast to life!!! We were all in the same mood; celebrating LIFE over and over again... How great it felt!!!
Yes, I do thank God that I am alive and well and that I will soon be getting the hell out of here, as my old friend Tom ordered me to do! Enough of this life!!! I am off to motherhood in a peaceful environment…
Yours,
Marie-France
mercredi 15 août 2007
The pilgrim`s soul and feet ; on their way to the Black Madona in Czestochowa
The year 1984; the date - 15th August - Assumption.
The Background; after one year of "group traveling" in Up With People (1982-1983), I decided to embark on a unplanned 3-month long voyage to Europe in a "non accompanied" mood and without a GPS. People I spent time with were either UWP friends who hosted me and/or people I would connect with during the course of my journey.
Poland was far from my plans, but... plans are made to be "unmade". Thus, through a friend of mine in Belgium (thanks Nicolas), I set out for the most remarkable episode of my European journey of my 1984 summer; the Czestochowa Pilgrimage. Here is the tale of my arrival to the "Jasna Gora" (Brigth Mount in English) Pauline monastery to admire the famous "Black Madonna" painting (with her "two scars")...
4h30 am - the wake up call or bell is already ringing. I have to get up so we can enter Czestochowa as the sun rises. As a romantic, I had liked the idea but right now, my body does not agree with romanticism anymore. It is cold and I have nothing warm to drink prior to set on for the last few km left to walk. I am going to see if my French friends would have some Nutella to give me!!!
5h15 am- we all gather with our respective groups and start to proceed. As I am walking, I am remembering that for days, when blisters on my feet gave me excrutiating pain and my empty stomach reminded me it existed by growling noises (I was not prepared for the walk nor were my Polish friends - thanks to a French group, they fed me on regular basis), I kept walking and dreaming of the moment I would be standing of this famous Black Madonna and in a few hours my wait will be recompensated...
6h00 am - when we finally enter the sleepy city, I am surprised to people lined up on the side of the road. They are handing little goodies to us, the young and tired pilgrims that we are... I am so touched by their gesture and tears want to come to my eyes.. but I stupidly refrain.
When I first heard about the painting back in Belgium, I was intrigued, how a "black" painting could be so revered in a country such as Poland. I had to participate. Imagine, walking with thousands young polish during the height of the "Solidarnosc" era in Poland? For the adventurer that I am, I could not pass this opportunity. I would enter the communist side for the first time...
During the walk, I remember vividly the USSR helicopters hovering above our heads as we are praying and chanting in Polish. Why so did I ask to one of the priest Voytek I had become "friends" with. Because many of us have returned from prison recently... said he in a soft voice... I remember the Polish wedding we attended were the bride and the groom exchanged the salt and the light. A tradition I liked and which was retained as the Canadian 2002 World Youth Day theme: "You are the Light of the World you are the Salt of the Earth".
I also remember sleeping in farms on humongous hay balls and swimming in lakes with thousands of youngster just like me and singing under the stars late into the night... They were so intense about their faith I was pleased. Also, they gave me proofs that Poland would not remain into communist hands for much longer. Of course, when I share this view to my north american friends upon my return, I was laughed at, but at the end, it prooved to be true in the late 80s.
This pilgrimage was a bit of my Woodstock version "à la polonaise"...
As far as history is concerned, this beautiful pilgrimage tradition dates back to 1382 when Prince Ladislaus Ii of Opole invited Pauline monks from Hungary to Poland. He gave them the "Jasna Góra Hill" and the miraculous picture of "Our Lady".
According to the legend, this "Black Madonna icon" was painted by St. Luke on a cypress table top from the house of the Holy Family. My Polish friends told me that the presence of the Black Madonna has saved the church from being destroyed in a fire, but not before the flames darkened the flesh tone pigments.
The legend concerning her two scars on her right cheek is that a robber drew his sword upon the image and inflicted two deep strikes. When he tried to inflict a 3rd strike, he fell to the ground and squirmed in agony until his death. Despite past attempts to repair these scars, they have always reappeared!!! Mysterious isn`t?
Going on pilgrimage is an important part the Catholic faith and I had never thought much about it. Compostelle has become "à la mode" in the past few years but I had never heard of the Czestochowa. I am glad that life events brought me there, or was it "events" really?
My experience has strengthened my belief in God and did renews my soul. Similar feelings I felt in Poland were renewed while I attended the World Youth Day in 2002 in Toronto, Canada (I was part of the organizing committee based at the Canadian Embassy to the Holy See for one beautiful year) and when John Paul II died... I spent these spiritual days around the Vatican talking to pilgrims queuing to pay their final respect to the Pope and attending his solemn funerals. More on this later..
I have become one of the 5 million who visit Jasna Gora yearly. When 15th August turns around, you find me praying in Polish... I do not know if it has the same impact on them that it has had on me, if so, I may say that the world is now a better place...
Adventure mum
samedi 11 août 2007
Kimchi days
This article was published in early 1998 in a magazine called "Humanitarian Affairs" and this was the introduction: Marie-France Bourgeois worked as an expert in assessing and monitoring humanitarian aid for ECHO in North Korea in 1997 and 1998. Below is an exerpt from her diary.
" It's a cold, crisp October morning. The sun is shining and I am being driven along the deserted highway in a rented Mercedes - our official ECHO vehicle, the only car available. That's a first for me: a humanitarian aid worker in a Mercedes! We're five minutes from the national capital, Pyongyang, and we have yet to pass another car. The double white lines are redundant. There is no traffic at all just outside this city of a million people. What planet am I on?
PS: The photo represents a nurse at the Wonsan orphanage with one of the many orphans. In this particular orphanage I was taken to a room filled with 25 dying children on a gray autumn morning of 1997. I shall write on this difficult morning in a later blog page... 10 years after when I remember that dreadful morning tears fill my eyes... How can human do this to babies???
From a distance, alii can see on the road are blobs of blue and red. As our car rolls alongside, I realise I'm seeing children in uniform, hundreds of them, marching and chanting energetically. Some of them carry huge banners with slogans glorifying the Great Leader. Where are they going? I see no schools, no play grounds, no
buildings, only the highway and the surrounding fields.
"They're going to harvest kimchi in the fields,' Mr Yun, my interpreter explains. He is my shadow for the duration of my mission in North Korea. Kim what? Kimchi. Kimchi is for Koreans, from North and South, what wine is to the French: never a meal without it!
Kimchi is a long green and white cabbage which is harvested in October, pickled and then eaten until stocks run out in about July. You mean to say that the kimchi I have been eating since my arrival in August is not the real thing? Of course not. That's the stuff made with pickled cucumbers, eaten during the summer until the new harvest is in.
Making kimchi is a traditional family activity that predates communism. It gathers the entire family around the mother, each of whom has her secret recipe. As we go through the suburbs, I see big brown clay pots full of kimchi on everyone's balconies. They are full of finely shredded cabbage, radish, onions, garlic, ginger and of course, red peppers, a symbol of virility here. When a boy is born, Koreans hang a cord bearing red peppersoutside the house. The kimchi has to ferment for at least five days at 15 degrees centigrade to produce the authentic taste and texture. It supplies most of the vitamins in the diet during the winter.
Suddenly, we catch up with five heavily overloaded trucks. At last, we are not alone on the highway! They belch out dark fumes into the clear sky. They run not on diesel nor gasoline -- since the collapse of the communist system, North Koreans have little access to fuel -- but on a local concoction that makes the engines hiccup all the time. They are so overloaded that they sway under the weight of their cargo of kimchi, dropping cabbage heads along the highway in a trail.
It goes without saying that kimchi is the national dish, so national that the North Koreans have declared the harvest a national holiday. It's the only holiday not related to some communist remembrance date. From the excitement I pick up, I would say that kimchi days are the most significant, sociable holiday in the country's calendar.
In truth, the holiday is a means for the Communist Party to institutionalise some extra days of particularly hard work. The entire workforce and transport system, consisting mostly of trucks belonging to the army, are mobilised for the occasion. Some non-governmental organisations are complaining they cannot get essential drug supplies to targeted hospitals on time because all army trucks rented from the government have been requisitioned to carry goods other than ECHO's medical supplies. Blame it on kimchi days.
Even my monitoring visits are hampered by the frenzied activity. I go to a warehouse to check ECHO-funded stocks of High Energy Milk. No chance. The person with the key has gone to the fields to give a hand with the harvesting. Blame it kimchi days. I go to a centre for the elderly, and ask to see the group of single widows I know are supposed to be there. Sorry, not today. They've all gone picking_. yes, kimchi. Even my home help won't come to work - she says she has to go and pick kimchi too.
Like most people, I enjoy Asian food, even after the stress of missions to North Korea and a bout of hepatitis. Do not invite me for rice and kimchi.I've eatenn more than enough of them for a lifetime already."
From my kitchen floor - August 2006
Dear friends,
In DRCongo, the elections’ results announced late on Sunday night have resulted in warfare between the presidential guard and the opposition leader’s personal force (who also happens to be the Vice President in this transition government), in Kinshasa, the capital.
By coincidence, my bungalow is un-conveniently located some 700 meters away from the headquarters of Mr. Bemba, the current Vice President and at the same token, opposition leader. This HQ will be the centre of the warfare for the 3 days.
I am just like a blind person, I can hear the “sheer madness” but I am imprisoned at home, behind tall walls (thank god for it). Hence, what to do to give me some peace besides praying and practicing yoga? Write, as I have always done… Hence, I have decided to share the events and its developments, as I live them. As I start this “confinement diary”, I have no idea how long we will hide. Will we have to go through this again? What will be the security situation for us in Kinshasa from now on until the next tour?
First, I set up my own little “headquarters”: my equipment comprises of three basic communication assets: first, a hand set radio (and a rechargeable battery), allowing constant contact with the United Nations Security Office. The latter provides insight and advises on staying put and on the ground when fighting is too heavy. The second, is my portable telephone, it allows me to be in direct and constant contact with my colleagues and my friends outside DRCongo. Last, but not least, my short wave radio (in Africa, the international French radio presents hourly development updates).
Not much is seen on TV. Euro News has no images which depict the situation we have gone through. I have not seen anything on BBC or on CNN. Priority news such as a plane crash in Ukraine makes it ahead of the events in DRC. I get a feeling that I am in the eye of the storm but no one cares. Tom could light up my lantern??? Does it go by the number of deaths??? It suddenly occur to me that when one goes through these events “live”, we realise how little the world cares. Surely Lebanese felt that way recently, how to blame them? This is how I often felt when I lived in North Korea and/or when I worked in the refugee camps in Rwanda. We are one world but with so many compartments that do not touch one another, as it seems but they do, the world just like to forget it…
Why all this fighting about, you may ask? I frankly do not have the answer. However, it’s based on the elections results which were announced on Sunday night.
On 30th July, DRC held its first democratic elections (without the help of the international community it would have been impossible) in 40 years. The Congolese were so proud to vote, imagine, an entire generation who had never done so… On first August, people were rejoicing and you could read their
Story will tell at the end of this email.
Day I: Sunday 20 August 2006
On Friday, the United Nations Security team told us to prepare for an eventual confinement and we were told to stay home from Sunday on-wards. I bought fresh water jerry cans, food (lots of pasta for me) and candles (they usually cut electricity off on Sundays). I just had no idea what to expect.
11h00: I sneaked out of my compound but did not take the office UN car as it’s forbidden. I am “mentally preparing” for the events ahead. Elections results will be announced tonight at 20h00. Exhilarating, I am realising a secret dream I have had since I was a child. The polo “maillet” is long. I am trying to hit the ball without hitting the poor horse’s legs or face
20h00: Elections’ results are post-poned to 22h00. Better this way, there will be less people in town so less problems.
22h10: The round of fire guns has initiated. Still do not know why exactly but the mess has started for how long, no one knows...
23H00: Luckily for us, this Sunday, electricity has not been cut off as it is usually on Sundays… Great, my frozen food has remained… frozen.
24H00 : Hell has broken loose, fighting around the forest compound about, some 3 km away from here and near by the UN Forces in Dacono called MONUC. Five deads and lots of internationals stranded in their offices in the embassies… It has gone wrong. I go to bed but keep counting the sheep without sleep arriving… as I hear constant fighting. Finally, I doze off to be awaken throughout the night…I do not sleep well…
Day II: Monday 21 August 2006
07H30 : My new boss sends a message that all is calm and we may proceed to the office. I believe she is making a major mistake. I first check with my sources and find out that its better to stay home and monitor the situation. As history has proven to me (remember Mongolia when I escaped death), I’d rather prefer to listen to my gut feeling than any other order.
I immediately call my team, composed of 7 persons; two of them are international and the rest are national staff. I suggest, against the new boss’s order (and yes, I will bear the entire responsibility if she does not agree with my judgement) to remain at home. They will all listen to me but one lady, Véronique. Later, she will have serious troubles getting back home…
Throughout the day : The day was calm, too calm perhaps as one could feel tension in the air. There has some fighting on and off yet it’s not pleasant as some seem very close. I avoid going outside in my garden, you never know, a lost ball and you are hurt. Apparently this is what happened to a Japanese national last night. He was on his balcony to see what was happening and bang, he was shot dead. Some detonation behind somewhere…
14H00 : I find out that my new boss finally comes to her senses (after strong convincing arguments from my colleagues) and decides to leave the office with the few “brave” who had showed up. I knew that if I showed up I could face serious problems in getting back home. Some other from other UN agencies, embassies and European Union personnel will be stranded in their offices until 22H30 tonight while other have slept at the office. They will finally be escorted by the MONUC tanks to their homes while bullets are flying right and left. An Italian friend comes back and is in shock. Some will sleep there…
16H00 : I had just fallen asleep, suddenly, a strong detonation wakes me up. They are now beginning what will become a “non stop six hour fight” which I become a “listening witness” to (as I can not see anything but hear everything). As I mentioned earlier, my house is located some 700 meters from the centre of the events.
Next time, I promise to myself, when I choose a house, I shall inquire about my neighborhood’s background. Lesson learned!!!
18H00 : Dawn is setting on Kinshasa, usually; it’s my favorite time of the day. Today it’s different; the birds’ songs are covered by the noise of the guns, Kalashnikovs, canons and mortars, all shouting near by. The heavy fighting has been raging for two solid hours now.
20H00 : I have been on the alert non stop since 16H00. I am scared, really. Too close for comfort. The Presidential guard (Kabila) and the opposition Leader troops (Bemba) have intensified their fighting near by. Mortars, guns, raffle, you name it, I have not seen it, and just the noise has convinced me of “real warfare” in my neighbourhood. By staying on the floor, I will avoid any “lost bullet”…
20H30: The guard Maturin knocks at my house, he is collected coffee for the national army who’s stationed itself in front of our gate. This means money and/or food. I give him 10 USD. Some of my neighbours will prepare rice for the 10 soldiers.
21H00: The Representative of the United Nations and the six ambassadors I mentioned earlier, met with the opposition leader and Vice President’s (Bemba) house has been shot at by the Presidential guards. This is why fighting has been so intense in the past hours. The UN and European forces (EUFOR) have arrived on the scene and are trying to negotiate their safe return to the UN base camp.
21H15 : This intense and heavy fighting has been raging for over five hours They are some eight thanks located near by. I am thus writing sitting on my kitchen floor, as far as possible from the window. I am writing live. I do not see anything, but I hear the warfare. Luckily for me, Michel my best friend and head of Okapi Radio (the UN sponsored by the Swiss) explains what is going on. I describe what I hear and he tells me what it means. I am a blind witness. Nothing on TV about DRCongo, I find it strange. The world does not know and/or does not care?
21H30 : Two lost balls have landed in my garden!! I have stayed on the floor since 16H00. I am drafting this portion of this diary from my kitchen floor. I have sat as far as I could from the windows while facing a wall. That’s my best protection. Problem with the Congolese is that they do not know how to shout straight. That’s why there are so many “collateral” damages when they fight.
21H45 : The UN and European troops were able to get them out of the bunker, all safely back to MONUC headquarters. The international community has helped the country in providing safe and democratic elections and this is the way its two mean leaders react. If I was an Ambassador, they would surely hear from me.
22H00 : My Senegalese colleague has been escorted by soldiers out of the hotel to another one away from the storm. While I spent these six hours on my kitchen floor she spent that time on her bathroom floor. To each it’s own floor!!! We kept in touch all afternoon, even cracking jokes over the phone, providing comfort to one another amidst madness.
01H30 : More firing, will it ever stop so I can fall asleep and find comfort in my dreams? My boy friend called to check on me. He tells me he is coming back only on 31st August. I am disappointed, I am so psychologically exhausted by this intense bombing and firing, I just wished Olivier was here with me; it would be so much easier…
Day III : Tuesday, 22 August
5h45 : I was awaken not by the roster’s but rather by loud artillery (tanks, rockets and mortars). Nice way to start what I realize is going to be my 2nd day of confinement. The two factions (the Presidential guard and Bemba’s - the opposition leader’s troup) are fighting near by the Congo River. In the main time, there is also fighting near by the leader’s house: Bemba. Let’s forget about Breakfast at Tiffany’s and let’s call it instead: “Breakfast under heavy artillery”. I stay in my bed, like an infant in its mother’s belly; I find solace in my bed while sipping a hot chocolate (also comforting).
06H15 : My Greek landlord who lives right besides Bemba’s house just called. His wall has been pierced by bullets but its still standing. Later on during the day, he will ask me to get MONUC to escort him out of his house accompanied by his two Mercedes. He tells me that he had an offer by the MONUC to flee his house but refused on the ground that he was only wearing a pair of short. I sadly realise that for some people, personal belongings are more important than their own lives…
07H30 : I keep hearing the “gun and Kalashnikovs fires” in “stereo”, live from my house were I am tucked but also on the UN hand set radio. Guards are being fired at.
8H45 : Fighting continues. French “reconnaissance” planes are hovering Kinshasa. Olivier, (an ex French marines) explains to me via text message what it means ; “they are checking things out prior to intervene”. He will prove to be right later on during the day.
09H15 : The belligerents are chasing one another in the cemetery located one km away. I hear the guns. It’s located right beside the gulf course. A friend of mine lives there. He is locked in with the local staff. There are fewer mortars but more gun fires. It’s changing into guerrilla warfare.
10H02 : I hear it loud and clear; fighting is taking place right beside my house. Is it the national army fighting Bemba’s troup? I guess so. Last night, my landlord has asked one of the commanders to post military at our compound entry. They asked for coffee when the arrived (meaning: payment). The government (for whatever it exists) does not pay its army. Most problems encountered in the field are due to these armed men which are unpaid, their guns is their salary.
09H00 : Bemba, the opposition leader, has tried to “make believe” he was dead, thus inciting the population to raise and loot. It has not worked… thank god.
11H48 : Calm has resumed. No more Kalashnikovs firing around my compound. I can finally hear the birds singing. Their voice is more melodious than ever before. This “TREVE” is due to the fact that UN Secretary General, Mr. Swing, accompanied by the ambassadors which form the CIAT (International Committee Accompanying the Transition) is currently meeting with President Kabila.
12H00 : The house is trembling, tanks are roaming on the street located some 20 meters away. French reconnaissance airplanes keep hovering above my house.
12H39 : The “Shegue” (boys gangs which are extremely dangerous) are trying to infiltrate my office. The guards’ voices reflect their preoccupation. According to the UN radio, the city is now empty. There are cadavers here and there on the road.
13H13 : Helicopters are also hovering over my house.
13H30 : The No 2 of the Belgium embassy just call to ask me if I can find food for the hospital in-patients. In DRCongo, it belongs to the families to feed their patients. Families being restrained at home just like us are unable to tend to their loved one in the hospitals. Just called the ICRC, for the moment, nothing can be done, we are quarantined at home.
14H01 : A friend tries to cheer me up and writes: “How is paradise?” I respond: “it’s hell”… My Belgium friends are now all sending text messages. They are well informed, DRCongo being an old “Belgium colony”…
16H00 : A cease fire has been ratified between Bemba and Kabila the “two enfants terrible”. The UN SG Rep and the CIAT Ambassadors met with them around lunch time. These two leaders should be ashamed of their behavior. They have taken the 60 million in hostages by putting into danger the election process which is not finished. There are still 35 million USD required for MONUC to be able to conduct the second tour. If donors do not provide the funding who will? These two have endangered the peace process and any hope the international community had to see the country to start rebuilding itself. It is hard to believe, as we keep hearing grenades and Kalashnikovs here and there but yes, it has dwindle down
Great. Yet, the snipers are still in the trenches and it will take a few hours prior to the EUFOR and MONUC to get them out. I am happy. It’s now over.
23H00 : I keep hearing this loud noise and the bungalow (cheap construction) shakes. Once more, I call Michel, "my eyes” to the rescue. What is going on? I describe what I hear and he tells me these are the EUFOR tanks. According to him, they are twice the size of the MONUC tanks. They are fully equipped “à la Rambo”. I can not wait to see them tomorrow. Frankly, I have never been into tanks but these 3 days has changed my vision on heavy artillery.
FINAL NOTE: Tuesday night 22 August
Once the cadavers will have been removed from the city centre, life should resume to some kind of normalcy as early as tomorrow. Again, I will only listen to my gut feeling. If I feel anything, I will stay put, I promise.
I wish to thank all of you who were able to contact me during these 3 days. It was quite an “experience”. Not one that I do not wish to renew nor that I recommend to anyone. At some point today I seriously wondered how long this “experience” would last. We are all lucky to come out unhurt of this sheer madness.
Hence, I promise you all that I will make a point to be out of the country when they will announce the results of the second tour some time (circa November). Once in a life time is enough for me!!! I have had enough of action oriented events I am aiming to a calmer life...
I am moving towards a new chapter, the one of becoming a mother. As you know, I will be going to China to pick up Charlotte some time later on this year (in fact the adoption took place only in 2007)and I must prepare for this new role. I guess Olivier will have some tricks to teach me, he has four children from his previous marriage…I was lucky, very lucky. I only had to stay home for 3 days, I had the basics with me, water, food, exterior contact and a lot of support from my friends much luckier than Lebanese that is a given.
These events are often turning point in one’s life as they allow growing in one way or another. I had time to reflect on a few things as life seemed on a stand still for a while. I had prepared a small bag with my most important personal belongings. The only thing I really cared for was my diary and my computer. I could not think of anything else as I carry the ones I love in my heart.
Out of Africa
Yes, finally, I am out of Africa, I am sure that my friend Tom will be delighted as he told me over and over (he was best placed to know the danger zones in which I worked as he is a "newsman" who covers the world).
I am out and happy to be... Kinshasa had become a bit too violent for my own good. Curfew (and already not much to do so imagine how long the evenings were), bullets flying over my head, hiding in the bathroom or the kitchen floor (see another story on this one)
I am sure that I will miss it, soon or later, its fragrance, its space, its people...
Ce n`est qu`un au revoir Africa,
Adventure mum
Becoming an instant mother - Baby 101
Baby 101 - I was thrown into it a few months ago when I picked up my Chinese daughter Xin Fa at the Social Welfare Institute in Southern China (Nanchang to be more precise).
Imagine a mother who finally picks up the daughter she has been waiting for two years and does not bring a diaper, a bottle nor a cookie. But I brought her a little toy! You`d say; you are not even fit to become a mother. I would reply; yes you are right but give me an hour to get my "motherhood speed into gear".
The fact was that our guide told us there were no need to bring anything as we were to spend only 45 minutes at the Welfare Institute to pick up our adopting daughters (we were 11 couples from Canada who had traveled together).
Once I held a crying and very much disturbed Xin Fa in my arms, her Nanny watched me for a few minutes and realized I had little (say no) experience with a 11 month old child. She kindly came to me with a bottle. The little one stopped crying immediately. Our conversation was made out of body language and hand signing as we neither spoke the other tongue.
So much for motherhood! But I did not give up, not yet on these first instants. I believe that human beings can perfect themselves and learn from their mistakes, can`t we?
I became a better parent the moment we entered our hotel room (my dad accompanied me in this "love journey"). I fed her properly and held her like any "normal" mom would do. See, there is hope when one is given the chance to prove herself!
I did not wash Xin Fa although she stunk. I figured she had already too much to get used. First, she had been "thrown" into someone else`s arms who did not resemble any other Chinese nanny she had knew, she spoke a different language and above all, smelled differently, no wonder Xin Fa was at lost.
I fed her and played with her. She slowly put a smile on her little face. By time afternoon came, she locked her eyes into mine and seemed to say: I get it now, you are now the person who will take care of me.
Since then, four pounds and two inches later, its been bliss between Xin Fa and I.
An "adopted" mother
From Kinshasa - Christmas letter - 2006
3rd of December 2006: If I close my eyes for a moment and listen to the sound of joy coming from the "kinois" (name for the Kinshasa inhabitants) who have taken the streets of Kinshasa to celebrate the victory of the first democratic elections in 40 years (if ever really), I could think, for a split second that I am back in Rome in July when the Italians won the "Mondiale".However, the noises are different; in Italy the predominant noise was "honking". In Kinshasa (where less than 10% of the 8 million inhabitants own cars) there is no honking instead; I hear the joyous beat of tam tams and "whistles". These are used at weddings and even at funerals (honestly, I have never seen people having a better time than at funerals; especially for elderly people - Congolese believe they have had a rich and long life being an elderly is an exploit in a country where life expectancy averages 43 years).
Alas, as the "Mundele" that I am ("white" in Lingala) and contrary to Rome where I joined Italians' celebrating, I can not do so in Congo. We have been summoned to leave the office early and stay at home. Following the August events (where I spent 2 days on my kitchen floor being the blind witness to an uprising but where I heard distinctively the noise of rockets, Kalashnikovs, mortars and tanks), the United Nations has applied "tight security rules" for the staff who has remained in the country. Tonight, Bemba (the opposition leader and looser of this election) could retaliate, no one would be surprised, as he does not "believe" the elections have been fair!
Since August, both Bemba and Kabila (the elect President) have been arming their troops. There are more soldiers posted at corner streets than there are stop signs! The Supreme Court of Justice was also set into fire a few weeks ago only, while we were waiting for the elections results (it took almost 3 weeks as nothing is computerized in the field); this was another coup from Bemba.
Back to the celebration evening I am "witnessing" in Kinshasa. The compound where I reside is safely "tuck" behind a 3 meter high wall. Hearing such joyous noises, I cautiously venture to take an "historical eye witness peek". Congolese have taken on the streets and are walking by, singing their happiness and pride and hope of a better future for basic rights such as:
- free primary education;
- accessibility to potable water (meaning a proper well providing clean water, I am not talking here of the fancy idea of obtaining running water in houses, a luxury not thought of) and;
- roads' rehabilitation (imagine, in a country as big as Europe, DRCongo has only 300 km of routes and I am not talking above paved roads but dirt roads!).
Above all, resumption of security is the main concern; the national army should receive regular salaries this alone would stop ramping looting and false taxation from soldiers. Last, I hope that political efforts will be made to stop impunity and that children will be left "to simply be children".
On 5th of December, I heard another bang, this time the noise had a joyous connotation. It represented a symbol of hope as President Kabila was sworn in.
Today Sunday 17 December, during the Latin Mass, while the Priest preached on "waiting for the arrival of the new born who will save the world", I saw a bird flying over my head; he started singing, I took it as a good omen. The circle is now complete, the noises have transformed into a delicious song of hope and peace for this New year where waiting will finally end for Congo, Charlotte (my adoptive daughter I will pick up some time in 2007) and for myself. I hope it is for you too
The long march towards Xin Fa
Two long long years "in waiting", this is the time it took me to finally hold Xin Fa, my adoptive daughter from China, in my arms. This was longer than an elephant pregnancy!
Did I despair during these moments, yes I did... I did not see the end of the tunnel as the "pick up date" was post-pone over and over and over. I thought I`d never see her little face nor hold her in my arms.
I had imagined our first encounter as "a magical moment" and it was... but... not in the way I had envisaged. My fault - I was so nervous and under great emotional turbulence.
As we were approaching the "adoption room" at the Social Welfare Institute in Nanchang, Southern China, we heard the 11 little girls crying. When we entered the "adoption room", we discovered these little angels who were held by their nannies (two children per Nanny).
I immediately spotted Xin Fa (I had obtained her photograph 6 weeks earlier). She looked more blemish and skinny than on the picture the orphanage had sent me. Her skin was in a terrible state and she seemed tired. She was dirty and under a great stress.
These little girls knew something was "in the making". They had been moved from their orphanage most likely for the first time in their little short lives (average age was 10 months old) and bused to the capital city where, us, the adoptive parents would meet them. Imagine the shock and the distress they felt... It was tangible and I could have cut it off with a knife.
I approached the Nanny who held Xin Fa (I was too nervous to take her into my arms and I waited for the guide to "officially hand me MY baby") and kept wondering if she was in good health or not. She looked at me with great surprise. A long nose was trying to engage with her... A woman who spoke to her in a language she could not understand...
Once she was "officially" mine, she was handed to me by the Nanny and Xin Fa, as a welcoming gift, Xin Fa started crying. I could not stop her. I was desperate. Me, the mother who hoped to soothe her and take care of her could not stop my daughter from crying! That was a terrible start believe me, my heart sank.
I whispered to her that I was her mummy and that I would take care of her from now on. To no avail, my words had an effect contrary to what I had hoped; she started crying even more and sobbed and sobbed.
Actually, Xin Fa needed some water. Luckily for me, as I had not prepared my first encounter properly (I must admit I was a bit "out of myself that day") with a bottle and cookies, the Nanny gave me her water bottle. Xin Fa immediately stop crying.
These first moments are never how you expect them to be. It was not as romantic and easy going as I had dreamed but these first minutes are not the most important, what really matters is the bond which is developing between us, and this has been and is real bliss...
Did I despair during these moments, yes I did... I did not see the end of the tunnel as the "pick up date" was post-pone over and over and over. I thought I`d never see her little face nor hold her in my arms.
I had imagined our first encounter as "a magical moment" and it was... but... not in the way I had envisaged. My fault - I was so nervous and under great emotional turbulence.
As we were approaching the "adoption room" at the Social Welfare Institute in Nanchang, Southern China, we heard the 11 little girls crying. When we entered the "adoption room", we discovered these little angels who were held by their nannies (two children per Nanny).
I immediately spotted Xin Fa (I had obtained her photograph 6 weeks earlier). She looked more blemish and skinny than on the picture the orphanage had sent me. Her skin was in a terrible state and she seemed tired. She was dirty and under a great stress.
These little girls knew something was "in the making". They had been moved from their orphanage most likely for the first time in their little short lives (average age was 10 months old) and bused to the capital city where, us, the adoptive parents would meet them. Imagine the shock and the distress they felt... It was tangible and I could have cut it off with a knife.
I approached the Nanny who held Xin Fa (I was too nervous to take her into my arms and I waited for the guide to "officially hand me MY baby") and kept wondering if she was in good health or not. She looked at me with great surprise. A long nose was trying to engage with her... A woman who spoke to her in a language she could not understand...
Once she was "officially" mine, she was handed to me by the Nanny and Xin Fa, as a welcoming gift, Xin Fa started crying. I could not stop her. I was desperate. Me, the mother who hoped to soothe her and take care of her could not stop my daughter from crying! That was a terrible start believe me, my heart sank.
I whispered to her that I was her mummy and that I would take care of her from now on. To no avail, my words had an effect contrary to what I had hoped; she started crying even more and sobbed and sobbed.
Actually, Xin Fa needed some water. Luckily for me, as I had not prepared my first encounter properly (I must admit I was a bit "out of myself that day") with a bottle and cookies, the Nanny gave me her water bottle. Xin Fa immediately stop crying.
These first moments are never how you expect them to be. It was not as romantic and easy going as I had dreamed but these first minutes are not the most important, what really matters is the bond which is developing between us, and this has been and is real bliss...
Tips for landing a job overseas
If you desire it "body and soul" you will get it but first and foremost, you must do your "homework". This entails the following:
1) do the research on newspapers and on the internet for the "potential" employer. At first you may cast your net widely and you will downsize little by little. Depending on the industry you are interested in, the diverse engines will lead you to headhunters and/or specialized web sites and/or magazines (examples: for mining, finance, teaching overseas, summer student employment, internships, travel and/or humanitarian and development work there are several job "listings" on the internet).
2) Once you have made a list of potential employers you must read carefully read their history, achievements and goals to see if it fits your the type of job in the environment you are seeking. However, at the beginning of a career one can not be too "choosy" the importance is to get "related experience and up grade your skills" in your working field.
3) Post your resume "on line" (if the employer offers such facility). Ensure that you are tailor your resume to the job advertised (use their jargon and make it sharp and snappy).
4) If such facility do not exist, tailor your resume to the company`s goals. Once its done, call the Human resources officer so you may call her/him and ask to meet so you can hand-deliver your resume.
5) If all the above are "just impossible" and unless you can interview from your home-country, frankly, the best way to land a job overseas is to travel to the country you wish to work in.
Again, careful planning is required. Make a list of potential employers which are already established (example the big hotel chains and/or travel agencies) so you do not arrived unprepared. Only take a visitor`s visa - careful this is not feasible in a country like Ethiopia and/or China - and a return ticket so you do not encounter problems upon your arrival in the host country).
Do note that one trend observed nowadays is to hire more and more local staff of the given country (say India as its labor force is extremely skilled), hence be careful prior to set out.
This has worked for many of my friends in the humanitarian world. When a crisis "erupted" people showed up and landed jobs with the Non Governmental Organizations (NGOs) but they had skills to sell for though...
Bonne chance!
1) do the research on newspapers and on the internet for the "potential" employer. At first you may cast your net widely and you will downsize little by little. Depending on the industry you are interested in, the diverse engines will lead you to headhunters and/or specialized web sites and/or magazines (examples: for mining, finance, teaching overseas, summer student employment, internships, travel and/or humanitarian and development work there are several job "listings" on the internet).
2) Once you have made a list of potential employers you must read carefully read their history, achievements and goals to see if it fits your the type of job in the environment you are seeking. However, at the beginning of a career one can not be too "choosy" the importance is to get "related experience and up grade your skills" in your working field.
3) Post your resume "on line" (if the employer offers such facility). Ensure that you are tailor your resume to the job advertised (use their jargon and make it sharp and snappy).
4) If such facility do not exist, tailor your resume to the company`s goals. Once its done, call the Human resources officer so you may call her/him and ask to meet so you can hand-deliver your resume.
5) If all the above are "just impossible" and unless you can interview from your home-country, frankly, the best way to land a job overseas is to travel to the country you wish to work in.
Again, careful planning is required. Make a list of potential employers which are already established (example the big hotel chains and/or travel agencies) so you do not arrived unprepared. Only take a visitor`s visa - careful this is not feasible in a country like Ethiopia and/or China - and a return ticket so you do not encounter problems upon your arrival in the host country).
Do note that one trend observed nowadays is to hire more and more local staff of the given country (say India as its labor force is extremely skilled), hence be careful prior to set out.
This has worked for many of my friends in the humanitarian world. When a crisis "erupted" people showed up and landed jobs with the Non Governmental Organizations (NGOs) but they had skills to sell for though...
Bonne chance!
Should I stay or should I go?
What a difficult question. I am thorned between two choices; one is to continue my 20 some years career with the United Nations and the other one is to stay in Canada in my home town with my family and friends... The second choice would mean more support for me to raise my adoptive daughter while the other could help me land the job I have been dreaming of in Geneva.
Not easy... let`s see what life has in store for me in the up coming weeks...
The adventure mum
Not easy... let`s see what life has in store for me in the up coming weeks...
The adventure mum
jeudi 9 août 2007
Life is like a novel
We are all "walking novels". You are and I am one of them. Our past is rich and if everyone took time to listen, really listen to the other, he/she would hear incredible stories, acts of courage and heroism...
We are all walking novels and I hope to discover yours...
We are all walking novels and I hope to discover yours...
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