Every now and then we recieve here in Kabul the Gaurdian Weekly.
A few weeks ago I was flipping through, looking at the photos and I saw a bridge that I knew.
I looked again, and said yes indeed I have crossed this river many times on a motorbike and on foot (as I decended to cross on foot because sometimes the tires of the motorbike would fall through the decaying planks) during my time in Congo. This is in the middle of no where, the bush - so imagine my surprise. The bridge is the only part of the road wide enough for a truck to pass - not that it could support a truck at that time, so we all crossed on foot, the drivers pushing the motorbikes, sometimes pulling them out of holes in the planks. The photo shows that the planks on the bridge have been replaced since my time there.
We protected springs in the area and some of my most fond memories are of cruising through the jungle on a one lane path on the back of a motorbike with a 10 kg HF radio on my back. We paid men to carry over 200 50 kg sacs of cement, 1 and 2 at a time up this road on their bicycles. Wow. What lovely memories.
I read the article. It agreed with the stories told to me during my time there and had fantastic photos. The names of the towns are where I have spent nights with rats chewing on my toes or running across my pillow. Where I have tasted smoked monkey meat and porky pine (neither are recommeded). Where I have climbed down ravines with no trails to a mucky spring. Where I have eaten many many plates of foo-foo (manioc goo) with chicken and palm oil sauce with lots of hot peppers. Ahhh. what faboulous memories.
Please check it out.
Article: http://www.guardian.co.uk/congo/story/0,,2162182,00.html
Photo gallery: http://www.guardian.co.uk/news/gallery/2007/sep/01/congo?picture=330664279
It is worth the read and the photos - the roads, the people, the airstrip. Some of the folks hanging around the airstrip are ACF staff - or were at one time.
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