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I am sure you have probably all been wondering what the hell has been going on with the expedition. Well, the quick and dirty answer is twofold: a lot and not much. In the last five and a half weeks we have managed to drive a grand total of about 360 kilometers. We were stuck in Pointe Noire, Congo for exactly four weeks until we decided that we needed to pull the plug on the Angolan visa process there and try our luck elsewhere.

We have been in contact with a Dutch couple that we met in Nigeria who have been following a similar route and although they experienced problems of their own in Cameroon and Gabon, made it through Brazzaville, Congo and Matadi, D.R.C., where they got five day Angola transit visas issued to them in 24 hours. Based upon that information, we packed up the trucks and headed towards Brazzaville because we were also informed that we would be denied entry into the D.R.C. without a letter from the Angolan Embassy in Brazzaville stating that it was possible to get a visa in Matadi. For the D.R.C., no proof of onward travel, no entry, plain and simple.

Sounds easy enough right? Drive 360 kilometers to Brazzaville, get a letter from the Angolan Embassy the same day, drive to Matadi the next, get a transit visa for Angola a day later and within a week or so, we would be sitting pretty in southern Africa with the problem areas comfortably in our rearview mirror. However, in the infinite wisdom of Lord Buddha, when it comes to the future, “whatever you think it will be, it will always be something different.” This line of thinking could not possibly be more applicable that here in Africa.

The road from Point Noire to Brazzaville takes the cake as being the worst road we have driven on during the expedition. In fact, I would feel comfortable betting that it is the worst road in the world. We got the trucks stuck on multiple occasions in mud that was waist deep. We were forced to drive on small deviations that took us up hills at what seemed like 45 degree angles, and at one point, we had to actually build a bridge with the help of some local villagers using bent railroad rails and rotted logs to get the trucks over a narrow, but very deep culvert.

Stuck in the mud again

Truck blocking a section of Congolese national highway route N1

As if the road were not exciting enough… it took us the better part of three days to drive the 360 kilometers from Pointe Noire to Brazzaville, we had to contend with the rebels. There is a region of the Congo just west of Brazzaville known as the Pool Region. The Pool Region is home to the remnants of the rebel army that had been fighting the Congolese government during the bloody civil war here in the 1990’s. After a peace treaty was signed in 1997, the rebels were out of a job and although the rebels, locally known as the Ninjas, received some political concessions, the unequal distribution of wealth in the Congo they were fighting a decade ago still remains largely in tact today. With no money, the rebels have little other choice but to get what they can from people crazy enough to venture down route N1.

It was not long before we had our first rebel encounter, but we were prepared… at least as prepared as you can be for a rebel encounter in the middle of the Congolese jungle, and made it through the makeshift checkpoint for the price of a few packs of cigarettes and some vitamins that had been floating around the Tundra. The Ninjas were actually pretty cool, telling us that with no jobs, they are forced to “tax” people on the road. If the Ninjas go to the bigger towns to look for work, they are arrested and thrown in jail. When we told the Ninjas that we sympathized with their situation and that we were American tourists, they insisted on taking photos with us. The whole situation was a little nerve wracking, especially since most of the rebels were either drunk, stoned, or both. Additionally, many of the Ninjas were armed with AK-47’s which they demonstrated were very much operational. Shattered nerves and gray hairs aside, we got some pretty sweet shots with the rebels… it is not everyday that you can whip out a photo you took with some genuine Congo rebels.

Not what you want to see when you come around the corner

Mark and the Ninjas

We encountered several more Ninja roadblocks along the road to Brazzaville, mostly at huge mud pits where vehicles had become stuck. The Ninjas would happily help dig you out of the mud for a large fee and they had it set up as such that no matter which way you drove, you were going to get stuck. Lucky for us, we had two trucks, snatch straps and our own shovels, so when we did get stuck, we did all the work. Because they could not ethically “tax” us for work they did not do, they let us pass in exchange for a few small “gifts,” e.i. cigarettes, broken sunglasses, and bananas. We had hoped to make it out of rebel territory in one day, but the condition of the roads ensured that was not going to happen. As it turns out, we ended up spending a night at a rebel camp with the district rebel chief, Mr. Tompette. Mr. Tompette was very hospitable, and let us park our trucks near his compound so we would be safe for the night. We even watched old DVD’s of the 10th anniversary of the peace treaty with our rebel host as other Ninjas gathered around, grumbling when they caught a glimpse of the president on the screen. The next day, after playing around with some guns and taking a few photos, Mr. Tompette provided us with a Ninja escort all the way to Brazzaville, completely free of charge.

Today on Mr. Tompette’s Neighborhood, the Americans drop in…

It was a lot harder than we thought, but here we are in Brazzaville, Congo, which according to Aneki.com, is the city with the worst standard of living in the world. The people are actually pretty friendly here, and although there are signs of development and progress in Brazzaville, visible remnants of the civil war still exist; buildings pockmarked with bullet holes, security checkpoints, a strong military presence, etc. We were originally planning on being out of Brazzaville in a day or two after getting the letter we needed from the Angolan Embassy, but as luck would have it, the Consul, the only individual in an entire three story building with the ability and authority to sign our letter, is on vacation for a week and we arrived just as he was packing his suitcase. I should get Lord Buddha’s view on the future tattooed on my eyelids. That way, I will not be surprised when the simplest of tasks becomes a monumental undertaking. As a result, we once again find ourselves playing the waiting game while trying to ignore growing feelings of déjà vu. It is reported that the Consul will return from his holiday on Tuesday… we can only hope.

Surprise, we are still in Pointe Noire, Congo. We were originally planning on passing through the Congo on our way south in only two days but the powers that be decided that we needed to spend a little bit more time here. One month to be exact. We have been here for so long, I should probably look into hiring a real estate agent. To make matters more interesting, we have now overstayed our Congolese visas which is potentially a big problem, but here in Africa, even when you see a problem like this looming on the horizon, you are in many cases powerless to act on it. In the continuing saga of hearing absolutely nothing from the Angolan consulate on the status of our visa applications, we anticipated that we might be here longer than our original visas permitted, so last Wednesday, we started the process to extend them. The visa extension process was reportedly only supposed to take a day, but three days later, we still do not have our passports back. The main reason for the delay in processing the extensions is the arrival of the Congolese president here in Pointe Noire yesterday. Apparently, every public official and half-ass, passport stamping bureaucrat was needed to prepare in advance for his arrival and to attend all of the ceremonies celebrating the great and wonderful things the president has done for the country.

Being stuck here in the Congo for a month longer than anticipated has forced us to change a lot of our plans. Zambia and Victoria Falls will have to wait for another day as will the wildlife reserves in Botswana and South Africa. I came to Africa hoping to see some exotic wildlife, however, I fear that the only wildlife I will most likely see on this segment of the trip are the lions and cheetahs prancing through the savannah in faded paintings hanging in the musty office of the Angolan consulate in Pointe Noire. “C’est tres tragique!”

We were also on a relatively tight timeframe so that we could fly back to the States from South Africa to attend the wedding of Steve S’s sister, Katie. In order to avoid a lifetime of regret and condemnation to the dog house, Steve was forced to spend an extra $1,500 to ensure that he did not miss this important event. In total Steve spent about $2,900 on his flight back to Denver including the original ticket. Mark and I on the other hand had no choice but to stay behind and continue to try and get the trucks and ourselves out of the Congo and past the giant roadblock that is Angola. Steve waited until the last possible moment, but was ultimately forced to fly home yesterday. Luckily for Steve, he flew out in the morning because officials closed down the airport a short while later to receive the president and his entourage. Steve will make it to his sister’s wedding, but will miss the last 5,000 or so kilometers of Africa and the trip down to Cape Agulahs; the southern most point on the continent and the end point of the “cape to cape run.” (North Cape, Norway to Cape Agulahs, South Africa) So TWBR is one man down until we are reunited in Argentina… a country that for the time being feels like it could not possibly be any farther away.

I don’t know what time it is. I don’t know what day it is. I don’t know what month it is. Luckily someone reminded me that it was Mother’s Day so fortunately, I did not let that slip by without letting my Mom know that I am still alive… where, I don’t really know.

TWBR crew in from of La Pyramide, Pointe Noire, Congo

It has been over three weeks now since we arrived in Pointe Noire, and it seems like we are no closer to getting our Angolan visas than when we first applied for them. “Come back tomorrow,” “Come back Wednesday…” I do not think they understand that I no longer want to come back. If I had my way, I would forget Angola even existed. Unfortunately, reality interferes with my fantasies of jumping off bridges with bungee cords and going to rugby matches in South Africa, Angola clearly out of sight in the rearview mirror of the Tundra. Reality forces me to acknowledge Angola’s existence and come to terms with the fact that we have no choice but to drive through it.

We tried to see if it was feasible to skip Angola, we really did. We investigated shipping the trucks, a drastic step considering how painful the shipping process has been in the past for us, but we have reached the point where we are willing to endure that pain to progress the expedition. In true keeping with our past experiences, the shipping companies informed us that for hefty fees they will be more than happy to transport our trucks around Angola in the amazingly quick time frame of 50 days. No one was ready subject themselves to that type of pain just yet.

Thinking of ways around Angola

We investigated driving back around to Brazzaville, through the “pool area” where rebel groups known as “Ninjas” lurk in the jungle waiting for vehicles to pass, collecting valuables from motorists with the aid of rusting, yet still fully functioning Kalashnikov assault riffles. The funny thing is, in considering this option, the Ninjas are not our biggest concern. We have instead been focusing on the reports of overlanders being turned away at the D.R.C. border for not having onward Angola visas, (even though they are reportedly issued at the border town of Matadi) Having already paid large sums of money to take the ferry across the Congo River to Kinshasa, with the end result of being denied entry, coupled with an expired Congolese visa and a mounting pile of “paperwork problems,” aka financial problems, this option could backfire and leave us in a much worse position than the one we are in now. We do have some Dutch friends whom we met in Nigeria that are in the process of making the Brazzaville-Kinshasa-Matadi run this week and based on what we hear back from them, will decide if we will follow suit.

Little did we know, another problem was looming on the horizon

However, even if we wanted to pack up shop and make a run for it, there is no fuel in Pointe Noire and both trucks are nearly on empty. That’s right, they ran out of petrol a few days ago, gasoil (diesel) is expected to run dry in the near future and according to our friends at the Toyota dealership, the supplies will not be replenished for another few weeks. The situation is so bad, that they do not have any more Jet-A aviation fuel at the Pointe Noire airport, so all airport operations have been temporarily suspended as well. Apparently, the supplier has had some refining issues that have resulted in production shortages. All this is very ironic considering how many times we have watched the sun set over the Atlantic at La Pyramide over the last three weeks and subsequently watched as the flaming, burn-off of gas from oil rigs a few miles offshore slowly lit up the darkening sky. Signs of petroleum production are everywhere here in Pointe Noire. In fact, on some days you can even smell it, yet for some reason, there is no fuel.

Oil is coming out of the ground here in PN, but it goes somewhere else

To top this all off, I have somehow managed to contract malaria again, only days after starting to feel better from the last bout and Shoppman finally lost his odds battle with the local mosquitoes as well. Twilight Zone I tell you, Twilight Zone.

We have been waiting for word on our Angolan visas now for nearly two weeks. That fact that this past Thursday, May 1st was May Day, or International Workers Day did not help our situation in the least bit. May Day is celebrated throughout the world, except in the United States where we honor workers with the Labor Day holiday in the fall. Depending on where you are, May Day shuts down the country from anywhere from a day, to over a week, as was the case when we were waiting for our paperwork in China.

Here in the Congo, the May Day festivities officially only last one day, however, because May Day fell on a Thursday this year, it effectively meant that everyone had a four day weekend, including the consular staff working on our visas. The two “official” days off from work, plus the reduction in productivity leading up to those off days means that we are relegated to waiting even longer for our visas. The current word at the consulate is “sometime this week,” although they are still reluctant to give us any exact days or timeframe estimates. Unfortunately, I am still reluctant to get too excited about this news, because they said the same thing last week.

Luckily one of our new friends from South Africa, Charles, is a budding professional angler and has all of his equipment here in the Congo with him along with some extra gear to spare. Since everyone who is in any capacity to help us get the hell out of the Congo has been out of the office for the past four or five days, we thought we might as well go fishing. Why not? Everyone else has. Unfortunately, our motivation to get up at 5 in the morning was not enough to impress the fish as we did not catch much of anything, but it was a chance to get in the car and go for a drive… something this trip is all about and something we have not really done in quite a while.

Charles knew of a nice quiet spot to set up and fish

Mark and Charles try and catch some breakfast

Still not feeling fully recovered from malaria, I caught some Z’s

Sitting here in Pointe Noire, Congo, I am starting to go a little crazy. It has been nearly two weeks since we arrived and applied for our Angola visas and we are still waiting. I have been trying to pass the time by reading and reflecting upon the Africa segment of our journey and given all that has transpired here in Africa, I have really only been able to focus on one central theme: corruption. I have become obsessed with corruption. I find myself constantly trying to find out more about the varying levels of corruption in the different countries we have passed through and trying to make sense of our daily encounters with corruption here in Pointe Noire. Each of my conversations with members of the ex-pat community here in the Congo always wind their way back to corruption, and when we are able to get online in between the random yet still somehow consistent power outages here in town, I am looking for more information as to the prevalence of corruption and what if anything can be done to put and end to it… especially here in Africa. I am obsessed to the point at which I can say that in 2007, the Republic of the Congo ranked in the top 10 percent of countries in the world in terms of corruption. (If you want to see where everyone else falls on the Perceived Corruption Index, check out Transparency International’s Annual Report)

“I don’t think you used your turn signal, give me 100,000 CFA!”

Photo courtesy Schalk van Zuydam, Associated Press

Personally, I believe the problem of corruption in Africa is immense. It ranges from our daily encounters with overzealous and underpaid police officers trying to extort money from us for ludicrous and falsified infractions to the top levels of government… politicians who have padded their own personal offshore bank accounts at the expense of the development of their country and the progress of their citizens. The numbers are staggering. According to a 2006 World Bank report, it estimates that half of all funds donated to health efforts in sub-Saharan Africa… billions of dollars… never reach the clinics or hospitals, instead leaking out in the form of payments to ghost employees and payments for padded customs, transportation and warehousing prices. It seems like you can not build a single road, bridge or building without some public official benefiting. During his 10 year rule in Zambia, president Frederick Chiluba stashed away nearly $46 million of public money in his offshore bank account but that pails in comparison to the estimated $5 billion Charles Taylor had in offshore accounts while he ran Liberia into the ground, or the estimated billions that Zimbabwe president Robert Mugabe has reportedly stashed away in Switzerland while his country teeters on the verge of total economic collapse.

Africa has a lot of problems. Humanitarian problems, economic problems, social problems. The list goes on and on. I am by no means an expert on Africa and I have hardly been here long enough to formulate any reasonable opinions on the cause for all of the misery here on the continent and I am certainly in no place at this stage to recommend any solutions. But I am observant and I do have a background in politics and public policy and that, coupled with my recent obsession with everyone and everything corrupt, has led me to become more and more convinced that all of Africa’s problems stem from two things: a systematic lack of transparency in government operations and a lack of the rule of law. Without transparency and respect for the rule of law, Africa and it citizens will continue to suffer. Sure, most of the problem can be blamed on the endless list of African dictators who have used government institutions for personal gain, but I think the people too can be blamed for not reining in the excess of these plundering politicians. “People power” can be an effective and successful tool against government largess, but it seems to be stagnant and ineffective here in Africa. It is almost like people do not care that their leaders are driving their country into the ground and taking them with it.

The African continent represents one of the poorest regions in the world, yet in terms of natural energy and resource wealth, it is one of the richest. Oil and gas has the potential to provide much needed revenues and has allowed countries throughout the world to address the problems that they face, yet in in Africa, the revenues from energy production represent a curse: corruption runs rampant, waste is chronic and the gap that has developed between the extremely rich and the desperately poor is essentially insurmountable. It is painful to see how much potential Africa has for development yet in reality, how that potential has been squandered, wasted and tucked away into the pockets of the connected elite.

So what can be done? Is Africa destined to become one of history’s monumental failures? Are the people of Africa doomed to be forever victimized by tyrannical despots destined to profit at the expense of their citizens? It is without a doubt a monumental problem requiring a multitude of complex solutions and one that will take years, if not generations to correct, but I guess I can take some comfort in knowing that people are trying to right the ship. The United States has recently developed the Millennium Challenge Account (MCA) which provides funding to developing countries on the condition that they meet strict criteria for good governance; the responsible management of government affairs, services and finances, and other lending organizations such as the World Bank are implementing similar criteria for the disbursement of their loans. Unfortunately, many developing countries in Africa with newly discovered mineral and oil reserves such as Angola and the Democratic Republic of the Congo (DRC) are turning to other investors, namely China, who delivers billions in development funding in return for access to natural resources but without conditions of good governance, human rights, or economic reform. To the Chinese, “business is business.”

So providing development funding on the condition that the money is used appropriately alone will not work. Pressure has to come from elsewhere, namely from the citizens of these countries and countries throughout the world demanding greater transparency in the public sector and demanding that they become party to the billions of dollars being extracted from onshore and offshore reserves. Given what I have seen here in Africa, if I had to deal with the same problems day in and day out that people do here, I would probably be right along side people in picking up guns and fighting, but violence is not the answer and will only continue to push these countries closer to the point of no return. Something needs to be done to force leaders of countries in Africa to be accountable for their actions and to be accountable to their constituents. One thing is certain, there needs to be a fundamental change in attitude not just in people and nations wishing to help, but in people here in Africa, because the situation seems to only be getting worse… (case in point; Zimbabwe, Sudan, and Somalia) and programs like the MCA are only Band-Aid approaches to stemming the blood flow from a hemorrhaging wound.