Idiots Guide to getting out of trouble in DRC

Fri, 3 Dec 2010 11:17:48 +0000

Ok – I’m slowly beginning to get this place. Being hauled in by the Congo FBI presents you with a fairly steep learning curve.

I was taking a photo on the main street of Goma (Congo DR), when suddenly there were two guys looming over me demanding my papers. They were in plain clothes, so I asked who they were and also to see their IDs. Sure enough they presented cards from the Ministry of Information. Oops.

I showed them my authorization permits. And slowly but surely they picked apart every sentence in the document trying to illustrate how I was in the wrong. Somehow, (they weren’t quite sure where) but I was definitely in the wrong. One by one I pointed to different parts of the document to illustrate that the dates were correct, that my authorization was for photographing in this region, that it had been stamped by the ministry. In the end they declared that I was still in the wrong since I had failed to get the local FBI chief to sign the documents and now I needed to come with them...

Somehow that invitation didn’t sound all that inviting. I may sound like I was calm but inside, I was literally bricking it. I called a person I met who is the local head of a major NGO and asked her advice. I also flashed her card at the leader of the group of agents which by now had somehow become 5 in total. They sensed blood and were descending for the kill. Mentioning my friend seemed to help quite a lot: I had contacts.

They were at all times polite but acted very upset – like I had kissed their granny with a little too much tongue action. My friend advised me to do one thing – TALK. She said they’re looking for a bribe but don’t give them much and don’t give it quickly. Make it very difficult for them. If you pay now they’ll see you as a soft touch and they’ll plague you for your whole time here. And so the games began.

We walked, we shook hands on every detail that we agreed on. While the apparent leader was on the phone to a superior I introduced a new topic of conversation “the merits of the Congolese climate” – years of climatological discourse in Ireland finally paid of as my expertese and passion about the matter really threw them. It seemed as though the weather was infact quite a novel topic of conversation for them and they were only too delighted to join in.

Still, they told me that they would have to follow me to my hotel where we could discuss the matter of the autorization further. We walked...and I talked. And talked and talked. This seemed to create a minor bond of sorts and soon we were all on a first name basis.

My friend had told me they’re less likely to cause you hassle if you’re friends with them. It sounded like a pretty darn good bit of advice to me so so I was working on that premise.

As I complimented them on their weather and bemoaned the rain and cold of my beautiful mother country (drawing careful, pointed comparisons with their sun drenched land) they grew more animated. They grew more curious. And as I told them more and more...they grew more pity. Now they were accosting someone from a country that barely saw the sun! First no sun, now this. Poor wazungu!

They all took turns to ask questions about our awful land of unending drizzle.

Still, they followed me to my hotel. Lurked outside the door and hissed for my attention as I made a second call to my friend for any update on advice.

She spoke briefly with their leader and then recommended to me that I buy them a beer and continue chatting. And so I did. I ordered beers for myself and my entourage – now 6. Eventually, their leader who had been on the phone much of the time latched onto the topic of the moment – this rare conversational gem, “the weather”. As it turned out he was quite an expert. It’s hard to convey in words the delight he took in explaining to me why the weather in the DRC is as it is. I’ll try...

He began with the sun. He told me that the rays from the sun in the Congo heat the water of the lakes in the Congo and transform it into clouds. Those clouds then let out water again. In the form of rain. I sat quietly, listened attentively and nodded at all the appropriate moments. I think I may have thrown in an “ahh” for good measure.

Satisfied that he was now an authority, and with the beers taking an age to arrive (we’re in Africa remember!) he told me that his team were under pressure to get back to work and wouldn’t have time to wait for the drink...but perhaps they might enjoy it later. Growing swiftly in my knowlege of the subtle art of bribery, I picked up on this delicate cue and offered him the money for the drinks that he might buy the boys one later – when they went off duty.

He happily accepted.

I thought we were done...until one of his subordinates said it wasn’t enough to buy him a drink. He said that his favourite drink was more expensive than a beer. So here we go again I thought. Poker time.

Taking my friends advice I quickly turned to the leader and said to him “I feel sorry for you, I’d hate to go drinking with him!” jerking my thumb at the subordinate and tapping the leader on the shoulder as good friends do. The leader chuckled. I glanced at the subordinate whose face had suddenly lost much of it’s bravado. I sensed blood and went in for the kill.

“What can I get you, sir? A bottle of champagne perhaps? No. No! Two. Why not two. Have two. I insist. Please.”

He squirmed in his seat as the leader and his comrades giggled in glee. I tried to remain all ‘Jack Dee’ about it.

The leader rose shaking his head in laughter and I knew I was in the clear. He told me to pop into the office the following morning and sign in to the local register to alert the Ministry to my presence on a formal basis. I told him I would. As we rose, the leader shook his head in utter confusion. “I just don’t understand”, he said as he looked at me with a troubled expression. “In your country, if you get so little sun, how is it that you have so many clouds to cause so much rain?” A true chestnut indeed! But, as I rose from the table it hit me like a lightning bolt.

Unable to resist the temptation I blurted out my own gem: “the wind!”, I said. “There’s too much sunshine in the Congo for the small amount of rain you get. The wind blows most of your clouds up over Ireland. It’s a balance. You’re the lucky ones. You get the sunshine, we get the rain!”

Slowly as the logic sank in a warm, nostalgic smile grew on his face. He remembered now, I was quite right - he had read something about this in his school days. He nodded appreciatively and shook my hand firmly. He seemed genuinely delighted to have cracked the problem.

As we both walked away from the table I thought to myself that we had both given each other some sort of useful lesson.

Keep in touch with 6hrs on:

Getting into the DRC

Wed, 1 Dec 2010 14:14:46 +0000

Having left Berlin behind, I touched down in Kigali airport Rwanda in total darkness during the early hours of the morning. Since I didn’t fancy negotiating Rwanda in the dark I used the airport’s free wifi until it got bright. When I stepped outside the airport the following morning, I was stunned by how well off the country looks today.

Their airport (above) is a beautiful, menacing piece of insect-like architecture that wouldn’t be out of place in a sci-fi movie, the roads are better than Ireland’s were in the 80’s and by the looks of things business is booming.

While picking up a tube of toothpaste in a wholesalers I commented on the apparent state of the economy to a local business man who quickly delighted in grabbing the arm of his next customer and showing me the vast wad of cash he was holding on his person. It was a neatly folded wad of 100 US dollar bills in groups of $1000. Easily $8000 total. “And he is from 200 miles up country” he added quickly, much to the customers embarrassment. “He came by bus because he cannot afford the flight”, he chuckled.

Conscious of the fact that I want to maximize my time in the DRC I decided to head straight for central Kigali and after booking a seat on the first bus to the Congolese border I hunted down some breakfast.

Owing to a little mixup in communication which can largely be put down to the fact that I speak no Kirwanda I ordered what turned out to be unripened bananas cooked in tomato sauce. Yum yum.

It was a prettier sight than the intestines I ordered the previous day on my way through Nairobi so I did the honourable thing and chowed down.

The journey to the border is through lush, green landscape.

Every inch of the road is under improvement, which I noted is under the supervision of hordes of Chinese engineers.

After arriving at the closest town to the border I hopped on the rear of a motorcycle taxi and travelled the bumpy road to the border post. That’s me in the rear view mirror!

There I was quickly hauled aside by Rwandan soldiers for snapping a picture of the crossing point - which I hastily deleted....and yet you can see it below...how strange?

Upon arrival in Goma I hunted down a contact who works with a major humanitarian organization in the area. She recommended a place to stay close by and suggested that tomorrow I attend mass at the organizations hospital so that the local people there will all see me and begin to recognise me as a part of their community. I plan to photograph the hospital tomorrow and speak with some of the doctors.

After that, I bought a local sim card and called the head of a second well known humanitarian organization. We met at a small locals bar to discuss in detail the possibility of me travelling with their doctors to remote parts of the eastern Congo where mobile clinics are set up amongst IDP (internally displaced persons) camps.

As we chatted we were joined by a colonel in the Congolese army who was exuberantly cheering on Barcelona in their drubbing of Real Madrid. He danced with a plastic chair over his head in delight as the final goal went in. It felt strange to be sitting between the head of a humanitarian organization and a colonel in the FARDC.

Here, rumours abound about the position of the military forces. As well as being accused of having a control over the vast mining resources of the country they are also widely accused of prolonged and brutal violence against the local poulation.

Only yesterday a Congo army colonel was added to the UN sanctions list. To read the AFP article in full click here:

I hope to visit one of the NGOs field hospitals on Friday.

Haven’t been to Mass in quite a while but maybe it’ll be different in Kiswahili...maybe it’ll rhyme or something!? Anyway 6am start, so off to bed now.

Lights out - day one.

Recci to the DR Congo

Thu, 25 Nov 2010 10:39:13 +0000

Over the course of the next few months you’ll be able to follow the development of the film from script to screen.

I’ll be blogging regularly, posting photos from the reccis, rough storyboards, concept drawings, taking you on set during the shoot with video diaries....basically brining you with me step by step through the creation of the film.

Your thoughts, ideas, impressions are also welcome so we have a forum on facebook where conversations can kick off about any aspect of the film or related topics.

On November 27th I’ll be heading to the DRC (Democratic Republic of Congo) on a research trip/recci. I’ll be flying from Berlin to Kigali (Rwanda). All going well I should be touching down there at 5am. I’ll spend the day in capital and then the following morning I’ll take a bus the very appropriate 6 hour journey to the border.

I’ll cross into the Democratic Republic of Congo and spend the next 2½ weeks exploring eastern Congo.

The DRC remains in the grip of a humanitarian crisis following a series of conflicts. The most recent of these conflicts began in 1998. It devastated the country, involved seven foreign armies and is sometimes referred to as the "African World War".[4] An article in Time Magazine describes the war is the world's deadliest conflict since World War II, and more recently Reuters estimated that it has resulted in the deaths of over 5.4 million people.[2][7]

That’s equivalent to more than the entire population of Ireland being wiped out in under 10 years.

Malaria, diarrhea, pneumonia and malnutrition, aggravated by conflict, were the top killers in Congo, a 2008 survey revealed.
"Most of the deaths are due to easily treatable and preventable diseases through the collapse of health systems and the disruption of livelihoods," said IRC director of global health programs Richard Brennan, one of the survey's authors.
Congo has the lowest spending on health care of any country in the world at an average of just $15 per person per year. In the United States, it’s $6,000 per person per year.

Despite the signing of peace accords in 2003, fighting continues in the east of the country. In eastern Congo, the prevalence of rape and other sexual violence is described by the Washington Post as the worst in the world.[5]

The fragility of the state government has allowed continued conflict and human rights abuses. In the ongoing Kivu conflict, the Democratic Forces for the Liberation of Rwanda (FDLR) continues to threaten the Rwandan border; a rebel offensive at the end of October 2008 caused a massive refugee crisis. MONUC has proved unable to contain the numerous militia and groups driving the Ituri conflict.

I’ll be travelling through the DRC as an invitee of MONUC and I’ll be liasing with MSF (Médecins Sans Frontiers/Doctors Without Borders), visiting and photographing mobile clinics and following doctors in the field.

To check out more about MSF’s work in the region or to donate to their work click the link below there go to their website:

I’m making a fictional film but it seems like a real opportunity to raise awareness about the situation.

Thanks for coming on board....Hope you enjoy the ride!

Welcome

Sun, 31 Oct 2010 16:51:22 +0000

Hi - Michael here. I’m the writer/director of 6 Hours. On November 27th 2010 I’ll be heading to eastern DRC to recci the area where the film is set.

I’ll be video-blogging on this website, posting pictures, following MSF doctors in the field and gathering stories, details and experiences which I intend to weave into the fabric of the film.

The plan is to shoot the majority of the movie in South Africa. This is due to safety concerns, funding reasons and cost efficiency. The stills I take in eastern Congo will provide a set of visual reference points for our locations scout in South Africa so that we can replicate the setting. Also I hope they’ll be a useful tool for the costume designer and set designer further down the line.