Bonobo - An Expedition Diary by Andrew McAulay (Part IV)
12.
One yogic technique for achieving this sense of “presence” is to focus on feelings of love, whenever they arise, letting go of whatever it is that has triggered those feelings. With memories of the baby bonobos never far from my mind, I seem to have a ready-made source of love to work with. Allowing that energy to spread through my being, I feel my boundaries dissolving and a pristine awareness spreading out everywhere, permeating and containing everything. The real nature of a human being is truly awesome: ignorance of this is at the root of all our problems, because it makes us feel cut off from each other and from nature and denies us the fulfillment that is our birthright. It is only natural, in a way, that the unaware human grabs at everything, because it is just a way of trying to recover the parts of him/herself that seem to be missing.
What will it take for humanity as a whole to rediscover itself? Does everyone need to go through the process of accumulating material possessions and then becoming disillusioned when the promised happiness is not lasting, or perhaps not forthcoming at all? Or, like the Pygmies who, by all accounts, have preserved a magical and sustainable way of life and remained uninterested in the material mindset, can we find a way to avoid destroying the planet before realizing what we have lost and who we are?
My sense is that the power of the Self, the Spirit, the collective unconscious or the non-measurable, subjective realm (whatever you want to call it) is always seeking ways to break through into our awareness. As long as we continue to suppress and deny it, remaining stuck in cycles of fear, desire and anger, it will keep manifesting in destructive, uncontrolled ways. Like Prometheus, we have stolen fire from the gods and are paying the price. This is what we are seeing with technology and the industrial complexes which fuel the growth of production and consumption, the destruction of forests and biodiversity, the depletion of minerals and water tables, climate change, poverty and so on.
In the context of the DRC, some argue that it is war and its effect on the bush meat trade that is the biggest threat to nature, that development and education will solve the problems. But as Einstein said, we cannot solve a problem with the same kind of thinking that created it. Africa’s modern history is one of endless exploitation, colonial or otherwise. Invasions, migrations, slavery, logging, plantations, mining… These days, it is the turn of the Chinese, building roads and digging mines to feed the unending demand back home… “same shit, different flags”, as one person crudely put it. The systems of the developed world are natural reflections of the dysfunction of the modern psyche… but once we acknowledge this, then the solution is really quite simple: it all begins and ends with our own perception.
Nothing can prevent us from accessing the inner realm and if a critical mass of awareness amongst humans can be reached, then the possibilities for living in a more harmonious way will begin to emerge. We cannot continue the way we have, because nature herself is drawing the line and forcing us to face our unexamined assumptions about this world and ourselves. Though the path ahead may be perilous for all – humans and non-humans alike – I have trust in the power that underlies form and do not feel that it is my right to judge its designs. Just one glimpse of its magnificence is enough to allay despair and re-energise us for the work that needs to be done.
13.
Such thoughts fill my mind on the long journey back to Kinshasa. Having donated half our clothes to the team at Katopa, we are back on the motorbikes and the start-up roar of ten or so engines reminds all around of what a unique episode, in the history of the area, the visit of this delegation has been. One senses that it will go down in legend – certainly for us visitors!
Back at Katako Kombe, we have a night in the convent (for the women) and abbey (for the men) before our departure from the airstrip – and the chance for dinner with the delightful nuns. For all the ignorance and destruction that organised religion has wrought on our world, there is a peaceful presence here in the world of the nuns. For the first time in my stay in DRC, our schedule allows me an extended meditation, sitting alone in my room on a chair (my knees develop problems if I sit too long cross-legged on the ground) for a couple of hours. I sink into my soul and relish the presence of the divine energy that dissolves the distinction between inner and outer. If only it could always be so easy… Once again, I am filled with gratitude for the experience of this trip and to all who have made it possible.
Flying into Kinshasa, we have a clear view of the extensive squalor that characterizes so many cities in the developing world – yet more and more people flock to these oases of despair, with their misinformation-fueled dreams of making it rich. As if to underline the enormity of the disparity, we have received an invitation to dinner at the Dutch embassy. Or rather, Annette has – and it is the very house she once lived in as a child – and we are all invited to join. The only clean clothes I have to wear are a t-shirt, outdoor pants and sandals, but Annette laughs off my concerns.
Before taking the turn off, from the main road, to the embassy, we see a huge barricade ahead, straddling all the lanes. It is in that direction, we are informed, that the presidential palace lies – so no one has a chance of getting remotely close to President Joseph Kabila. At the embassy, we begin to realize that it is a full-on diplomatic dinner, to welcome new staff, and there are over 20 guests. I am introduced to the ambassador and his wife and we make small talk – but they seem preoccupied with something and I think it is my sandals! They have been warned that we will be fresh from the field and casually attired, but the acceptance of this may not have made it to the level of the subconscious mind. What to do? I look over at Jon Stryker and his shirt is hanging out – which is some small relief.
After the experience of the past week, I feel a bit like a fish out of water. Conversation is somewhat strained, as I chat with some big economic players, but after a few glasses of wine, I am sharing my thoughts in a fairly unrestrained manner and surprised to find agreement on various key points: yes, the global economic system is heading for collapse; yes, humanity has overreached itself; and yes, we do need more rurally-oriented values… but then I am challenged: is love of nature a luxury that rural villagers cannot afford? I agree, I respond, that a person needs adequate food, clothing and shelter, before s/he can turn to more spiritual pursuits – but it is also clear that those cultures which have lived most simply and sustainably on this planet are the ones with values most closely aligned with respect and love for nature…whereas many modern, materialistically wealthy people do not seem too keen to avail themselves of the aforementioned ‘luxury’. One thing is for sure: if we do not respect nature, then she will not respect us.
Various people keep expressing surprise that we have been in the country for only just over a week and are leaving the next day. I think about this for a moment… and eventually I realize that it is not entirely accurate to say that we have been here a week: it has been more like a month!
Pausing on the return journey. (Photo credit: Slobodan Randjelović)
14.
The day of our departure, we visit the famous rapids which bridge the narrow divide between DRC and the “other” Congo. Brazzaville is easily visible from the restaurant where we eat and watch the world’s second largest river squeeze itself through this gap of a few hundred meters. Adding to the pressure is a small island in the middle of the river, “L’Ile des Singes” (but not, as the name suggests, with monkeys on it), which is almost inaccessible and reputed to be haunted. Only one team of high-risk adventurers has ever been able to negotiate the rapids: many have tried and died.
Between the restaurant and the river bank are scores of labourers splitting rocks in the blazing sun. They occasionally stop to look longingly at us, sitting in the shade with our beers. To work in this relatively upscale restaurant would be a matter of extreme good fortune in this city, you would imagine, but the waitress and other staff seem discontented. I am getting that heavy feeling again and worry that it will dispel the sense of wonder and joy that has accumulated through the trip. My mind has stopped recounting the details to itself, but I know that I must try to capture something of it in writing before I lose it entirely (I have not made any notes).
I need not worry however, because Singie is still on my back, quiet as a mouse (Don’t go…) and from the moment I open up my laptop at the airport that evening, the words come pouring out in a constant flow. The 6 hour layover in Paris flies by as I continue to write and by the time I retire to my bed at home in Hong Kong, at 1am, for my first good night’s sleep - 2 days after leaving Kinshasa - my first draft is complete.
All that remains now is for me to reiterate my gratitude: to “Mama” Terese, “Papa” John and their team, to “Toujours Tombé” Claudine, the bonobos and their ‘mums’, to Arcus and everyone else who helped to make this trip possible… Your work is remarkable and critical and it is people like you who are the beacons of hope for this world. May the love that you feel and express find fertile soil in which to grow for the benefit of that awesome place that is the Congo!
Ok, Singie, you can get off now. Don’t worry, I’ll be back.
(:(I)
If you would like to know more about projects mentioned in this piece, please access the following links:
http://www.friendsofbonobos.org/
Bonobo – An Expedition Diary by Andrew McAulay (Part I)