My Take on "Blood River" by Tim Butcher

After reading this book it made me appreciate Africa even more and at the same time feel really bad for it. This is the only continent in the world which has experienced many sectarian wars and genocides. Even though Africa's history is exciting, it's marred by violence throughout. Author Tim Butcher gives a rare view to those who read his book The Blood River what's really going on behind deep jungle in the Congo region. 

In the beginning, Butcher writes of the reason for his plans to travel to this remote country to retrace the route of explorer Henry Stanley. Stanley came to this area to chart the Congo River in 1877 only to lose many of his men who tagged along with him because of harsh conditions. Butcher knew that before he were to set foot into war-torn Republic of Congo, he will have to go through red tape and bureaucratic hurdles--all because this is how the business is done in Congo these days. Because the economic conditions are so bad here Butcher writes that nothing can be done to help this country. He writes: "Injection of money will not help it [the economy] because of corruption," p.67. He tells a story of meeting a little Belgian woman named Mlle Nagant who had lived in a little Congo village for many years to help foster relationships and give villagers hope. Miss Nagant claims here efforts are only to "water the seed before it blossoms," (p.113). She has seen much in her days here but she's a living optimist who sees a way out for people of Congo. I myself wish there were plenty of people like this woman lived in Congo so progress can root itself even further. 

One British missionary told the author that people of Congo don't have many options. She said that they have two options; either join church of Congolese military (p.196). Unfortunately, because it will be difficult to profit from working for a church, the military option is the easiest way out for many because one becomes a property of the government. It was heartbreaking to read about a man who traveled on bike through the jungle for months with little food trying to trade palm oil and other goods. Even more unfortunate is that once he's stopped by the militia members he could lose all his goods in matter of minutes-just to preserve his own life. That's the reality the news media does not talk about but rather focus on celebrity juicy gossip and junk news; and this is what makes me so mad!

I was surprised to find out how little did the natives knew about current events happening around the world, let alone their own country's history. Because of poor technological achievement, people living deep in jungle have never heard of September 11th terrorist attacks and have never learned about massacres happening in their backyard, except through word of mouth. I feel so privileged to have an iPod Touch and computer from which I get my daily and breaking news. I'm surrounded with technology which can be used to access information literally about anything in matter of seconds. 

Towards the end of this adventurous book I have developed emotions for the forgotten people of Congo. Butcher writes how each time he asked locals to tell him about violence in their village they would end their stories by saying "and we fled into the bush." That's the only place they have to escape the everyday violence. How sad. He also wrote about a man asking the English traveler to take his son from him to give him a better life. Butcher couldn't smuggle a child within the UN ship and had to refuse the offer. As he neared the end of his journey along the Congo River, Butcher writes about men on little boats trying to get onto the UN ship to escape the country or sell goods for at least some kind of profit that they could get. In my recent trip to Morocco, I witnessed firsthand the hardship the people go through each day to meet the little wage that still is not enough to survive of.

All these are some of the hardships Tim Butcher has experienced and seen for himself as he tried to mark Stanley’s route along the Congo River. There are still many other problems that continue to handicap this country rich with natural recourses. Sadly, the money only goes to few powerful individuals who have high-stakes interests in diamonds, gold and cooper. It’s the regular people who perform the manual labor are ones who suffer the most at the while rich and powerful elites benefit at their expense.

Nobody will ever know the cost that Congo and many other neighboring countries have paid at the hands of imperialists and corrupt political leaders throughout generations and even today. It’s important that ordinary citizens get the voice they so badly need to tell the world of atrocities being committed by the hands of local militia and abuse from wealthy politicians. Tim Butcher’s book does not reveal much as I would have expected but it still gives a glimpse into this secret world. The author ends his book with this statement: “The major lesson I learned on my trek through modern central Africa was that the most valuable asset stolen from the Congo was the sovereignty of its people.” (p.334). Now is the time for those people to have a platform to stand on and have the freedoms back they’ve been robbed of for so many years.

I thoroughly enjoyed this book and learned a great deal about situation on Congo. I just now wish I can do something for these people while we still have the time. 

Morocco: A Trip For a New Perspective

Traveling to a different country is a hassle. Traveling to a country in which I did not understand much of their culture was certainly an adventure of its own! When my three friends and I were discussing possible destinations for Spring Break week, Morocco was not a place that suddenly came to our minds. After doing Google search and looking at many pictures, we couldn't resist take a second look at Morocco. Then we definitely liked what we saw.


On February 27, we boarded the plane to Agadir but as soon as I stepped out of it, just three hours after leaving cold London, I felt a sudden rush of heat. The airport's welcome sign read in Arabic and French. After seeing the sign and feeling the heat I realized that I was indeed in Africa. Never in my life had I imagined traveling to this continent--for vacation.


When we arrived at hotel I immediately noticed one troubling sign from the start: the hotel welcome foyer had a row of flags of different nations; missing was the American flag. I don't know if this was done intentionally or simply for tourism attraction to welcome those who come here the most but at any rate this troubled me in a place where Islam dominates the government and everyday life.

Before we came here, we learned that there's little to see or do in tourist-dominated city of Agadir so we adjusted plans to spend more time at another lively city called Marrakesh. The 6-hour bus ride from Agadir to Marrakesh was long but not dull. I sat by the window filming and taking pictures of everything I could possibly see. I saw beautiful maintains villages that are built on top of hills, road stop shops and many herdsmen who kept vigilant eye on their sheep and ram. I swear at one point I saw a giraffe eating from a tree. My friends doubted my sighting but I'm certain I was not delusional that day. During the bus ride we met a young man named Simon who was on his way back home from Agadir after visiting his friend there. Simon was helpful in telling us more about Marrakesh and what we can do there. Later, we would never know how much he would help me and Justin to save money on food and other items we knew would cost us more simply because we are tourists. By the end of our trip he became our trusted helper and remained a dear personal friend to me to this day. 

During my stay in Marrakesh, I spent most of my time wondering around a large shopping center called Djemaa el Fna square. This is the liveliest part of the city where regulars and tourists come to buy traditional food, souvenirs and receive lots of entertainment. One such entertainment could be considered a brush with death when men with snakes sneak behind you and try to place one around your neck, then expect t you to pay them. I kept my eyes alert for any possible situations because I strongly dislike snakes, let alone have one coiled around my neck.


One day after climbing high mountains with our friend Simon, Justin and I sat down for a real Moroccan delicacy: Kuskus with ram's meat. We sat on the edge of a fast rushing river surrounded by high mountains as we enjoyed our food. Forgetting about the safety for time being was our only option.

One of the most unforgettable moments during my stay in Morocco happened when our new friend Simon invited Justin and me to stay for a day at his family's house. His family, just like many others here in Marrakesh, is devout Muslims who have book of Quran on display in the center of their social room and who regularly pray five times a day. The men of the hose go to a local mosque for daily prayers while women stay at home and kneel down in the center of the guest room facing Mecca. What intrigued me the most was how the family welcomed us and accepted us as members of their own clan during our stay. The mother and her recently divorced eldest daughter made delicious meals for us and constantly refilling our tea cups each time they found one empty. I was pleasantly surprised when the entire family allowed me to video tape and photograph their house, their most treasured Quran, and even themselves. 

In the end, I came to appreciate the Moroccan culture more than I had imagined I would. I've seen extreme poverty on the streets of a country where the King is admired so much, despite his lavish lifestyle, by those who have nothing. I've wondered many streets of this beautiful Northwestern African country. I've also made friends like Simon and Mehdi, two college students who earn to do something greater but can't because of financial and cultural obstacles. One thing is reassuring to know, however, is that those two young men still have high hopes for future to come. 

Flowering Kindness

Tonight's class was different than any other. I was looking forward to tonight's class because yesterday I bought a new camera and wanted to try it out. I didn't have time to play with different features it came with but I was ready to begin taking better shots; my old camera gave up on my and died after I had it for more than 5 years.

On the night of February 2 we all met as a class at the Embankment tube station and began our journey. We walked across the Embankment Bridge and saw the London skyline at night. The St. Paul's Cathedral looked amazing from afar as it illuminated by large beams. My camera was able to capture the night skyline in bright colors vividly. The bridge itself was unlike anything I saw. It had weird design. At times I noticed a slow swaying as people walked on it. This bridge is designed only for pedestrian crossing--thank God! On the left side of the bridge, a picturesque scene of Houses of Parliament and brightly-lit in pink the London Eye. I can't believe I was standing and seeing this scene with my own eyes after having seen it in pictures and TV.

After crossing the bridge, we walked over to the Trafalgar Square via a tiny street that wasn't evenly paved and curved uphill. Although this tiny street was somewhat dark and narrow, tonight it was packed with people like a busy supermarket. We turned left at the top of the street then walked a block or two before we found ourselves in the middle of the Trafalgar Square. What a beautiful place it is!

In our first class with Brian we read a literary except of a young girl who was sweeping the area at the Square by the statue of a man on a horse. Immediately we, now in 2010, found ourselves standing by that very same statue. I was amazed that history this long ago can be experienced even today.

A Walk to Remember

On January 19 we finally got a chance to go somewhere outside of the class. The class began at the Monument station where met and then started our journey (flanuering) across the east endof London, close to the Tower Bridge. Our first stop right outside the Tube station was at the monument to the Great Fire of London of 1666. This 202 ft. towering pieceof architecture of definitely a sight to behold. I think it looked especially pretty at night when giant spotlights shone on it. Our professor explained aboutthe monument in general detail adding that many people, especially women would use the viewing platform as a place to jump to their death. So from now on, agiant net surrounds the golden flame observation deck on very top. I definitely will find some time one day to go to the top to get a bird’s eye view glimpse of the city for my own pleasure.

Our next destination took us to an ancient church called St. Magnus the Martyr which is across the street from the monument. At one time it stood on the edge of the city by the River Thames. There, I got a chance to touch a very old piece of wood that remained there since A.D. 75. Wow, that was such a great experience to touch something that’s this old! Usually I have to go to a museum to just look at it (no touching allowed) but this piece of wood is pinned against the corner of the church for all to see and touch as they feel.

.I was glad that we took this trip when it was dark because the Tower Bridge at night looked especially mesmerizing. I simply posed for a moment to soak in the scene and suddenly lost the entire class in a rushing flow of people. It seems all Europeans are power walkers. They all were walking so far, bumping into each other that it made me a little bit nervous. I lost sight of my class but soon was able to find them. I need to get cell phone so next timeI get lost, I know I will get in touch with someone from the group.

One of the remarkable places of the night we had visited was the ancient mass grave site of forgotten prostitutes from London. This place called Cross Bones Graveyard looked like a makeshift memorial to the victims of 9/11. I was expecting to walk through an actual cemetery with thousands of graves around but it turned out to be a simple gate plastered with all kinds of material likewritten notes, ribbons, flowers and soft toys. Behind the gate was what looked like a large parking lot surrounded by residential buildings. Soon this area will be excavated, as we were told, to determine if this is an actual mass grave yard where more than 15,000 prostitutes are claimed to be buried.

I really enjoyed the walk across this historic, yet mysterious part of London. I really do need to get out more often and try to discover places like one I’ve been last Tuesday night. This city really has hidden treasures of history buried throughout--only a real flauneurer will discover.