Parents’ Visit, Instalment Number One: Burundi

Hi. It seems like this is becoming a bit of a travel blog. I’m sorry; I’m rather negligent, and find that I only end up writing when something takes me out of the normal, such as travelling, which thankfully I tend to get to do a bunch of. And I guess I feel that life here has in fact become sort of normal, forgetting that aside from my parents who have just spent three weeks in Africa with me, most people still probably don’t know too much about what normal for me looks like.

Additionally, I have indeed been regularly posting on a blog, just not this blog. As the last post here directed, I’ve started a photo project that is updated thrice weekly and keeps me somewhat busy, in addition to being quite busy at work, and travelling frequently.

But as I mentioned, my parents did finally come to visit for three weeks. We had an incredible time, and did far too much to write about in a single post, so I’ll break things up into three instalments. Here we have:

Parents’ Visit, Instalment Number One: Burundi

November seventh was a propitious day. Firstly, it was the day I celebrated my second-year anniversary of being in Burundi, having thus far maintained my sanity (although this might be disputed in some circles), and in innumerable ways finding myself living a much fuller life than ever before. On November seventh I also celebrated the arrival of my parents, something that I had been looking forward to for, well, two years. As they walked off the plane onto the baking tarmac, I’m sure that they really had no idea what they were in for, but they know me well enough to suspect whatever awaited them would be an adventure.

We started out the week with a big party at my house, partly in celebration of their arrival, partly in celebration of my two years, and partly to christen the house (despite the fact that I actually moved in January, we hadn’t yet had a proper party). I’ll spare you the photos that dad took of the cook processing the goat, and will let it instead suffice to say that we had a feast replete with local delicacies: brochettes de chèvre, bananes cuites, samosas, saucissons, et bien sûr des fantas.

I think they also quickly discovered that there’s not a whole lot to do around the city, which suited us fine for we were soon on our way upcountry to see the real Burundi. On our way to Cassien’s home in the south of the country, we stopped and drank from the Source of the Nile. Now, each country in East Africa claims the true source. Burundi’s claim rests on the fact that they are the southern-most country inside the Nile Basin; all water inside the basin eventually drains into Lake Viktoria and then the Nile, while water on the other side of the mountains in the west and south of Burundi drain into the Congo River and eventually the Pacific. So, maybe we’ll all live forever or something.

The first day we set out to see the beautiful Karera Falls, where mom and dad were maybe a little unnerved that we were escorted by armed soldiers. My colleagues laugh that I can’t remember ever having seen an armed soldier in real life before I came to Burundi. Oh, except maybe in the US in Miami Airport after 9/11.

Day Two we went way way up in the mountains in Makamba Province, where Help Channel Burundi has two tree nurseries. 

After touring one and meeting a crowd of workers from the community who came to greet us, I asked around about a road that I’d heard rumours of, that would allow us to continue straight down the far side of the mountain chain instead of taking the same route back the way we came. “Um, yeah, it might go,” was the response I got from one of the workers, which meant it might be passable, but no guarantees; which, with a few rough directions, was enough to convince me it was certainly worth a try. And before long we found ourselves on a grass path very seldom solicited by vehicles, little wider than our Land Cruiser, and I myself was thankful that we were completely enshrouded in mist, because although it made it slightly tense, it would perhaps have been worse for the passengers had they been able to see what I knew was there- the thousand metres straight down the mountain into the valley bottom below! We did finally escape the clouds and realise just how high up we had been. (The photo below was taken when we had already almost reached the bottom)

Finally descended after two rather tense hours, we ate a nice fish brochette at a new establishment on the lake and headed back for Cassien’s house. (And I think that Cassien has never been more relieved to be home than after that trip!)

There’s a lot more to tell, but that’s the meat of it. My parents had a great time meeting my colleagues and seeing the office and a tree nursery; they met my friends who support me and keep me sane (or perhaps we go nutty together?); they ate at some of the nicer restaurants we frequent on weekends; enjoyed sundowners at one place that sits atop a hill and overlooks the city, Lake Tanganyika, and the mountains of Congo beyond; they lounged at home and enjoyed omelettes and fresh fruit juices; and of course they held pythons and teased the spitting black cobra at Musée Vivant.

Sounds appealing, n’est pas? Next installment: Safari!