This first week in DRCongo has been a steep learning curve. I was not too sure what to expect in North and South Kivu, but now I have a few adjectives to describe the place. It is aggressive, breath-taking beautiful, warmhearted and because of that, heart-breaking.

On Lake Kivu- photo Melanie Gouby

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I went on a trip to Bukavu for the weekend with my colleague and we thought of it as a relaxing outing before the start of the training on Monday. Not so much. The day began with a greedy soldier threatening to confiscate my camera because I took it out in the marina where we were taking the boat and did not have a permit to take pictures. Fifteen long minutes of near violent argument and 50 dollars later I was in possession of my camera and fine, but shaken. First bribe of many to come.

The pic that almost cost me my camera- Goma- photo Melanie Gouby

The boat ride on Lake Kivu was one of the most wonderful views I have seen in my life. Traditional small wooden boats navigate the deep blue lake surrounded by huge green hills. Villages sprinkle the shores of bright colours dots, the clothes hanging after being washed, the people walking in them. It is peaceful, except for Predator showing on the boat’s TV soon followed by a film about US soldiers committing war crimes in Vietnam. You would think…

Lake Kivu- photo Melanie Gouby

Frank, a Congolese journalist whom I met randomly on the deck while shooting pictures of about everything I could see, was going to Bukavu on his way to Burundi for a training. Trainee, trainer, we naturally started talking about journalism in DRC, skills, development and people’s mentality. Skills… that’s what’s lacking here. There hasn’t been any proper secondary education system for decades and Western aid has not been able to generate the kind of sustainable mechanisms that would ensure DRCongo has an educated, trained workforce. Build a bridge, or a road, like the Chinese are doing now in exchange of millions of dollars worth of minerals, it will all scramble within ten years because no one will take care of it. It is not charity or cash this people need, it’s empowerment. Perhaps the bigger blame should go to Kinshasa and itspoor governance.

Lake Kivu- photo Melanie Gouby

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Goma as a town is very grey and dusty. There is not one road covered with asphalt. It’s a huge city with 1 million inhabitants but I am still looking for the centre. I have been told it is the “avenue” that goes from our hotel to the Heal Africa hospital, but really there is nothing on that street except for a few restaurant and a club.

The light is very special here. Emanating from the lake, it has a whitening quality and makes everything look even greyer than it is. It bathes the streets and the people in dream like foggy air. The lava rocks used in construction also add to this impression. Dark grey. The place is not dark though, it’s difficult to describes.

My colleague “Maitre Charles”, IWPR coordinator in Goma is a bloody smart lawyer. He is also a fine joker and we constantly have a laugh. I have put him in charge of showing me the “real Goma”, starting with having lunch at a local place. We went to “La grippe porcine” (The swine flu), a small outdoor eatery where you could get pork even when there was a swine flu outbreak last year. Only Congolese sharp humour could have come up with such a name.

Taking a moto-taxi (moto is the French slang for motorbike) is another “real Goma” thing I loved to do, it is huge fun! Rather dangerous as there is no helmet, but the wind in your hair, getting out of your secure, suffocating hotel-car routine and simply the ride, make it worth the risk.

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Someone said Asia is an instant hit and Africa grows on you. Well it seem to be quite the opposite for me, despite all the misadventures (and the malaria) I had so far.