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Lean more about lions
An archaeological expedition to the Congo
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Category: Congo Memoirs
This is the final Congo Memoir. The penultimate installment is here. The final installment is below the fold .... If you are interested in issues pertaining to the Congo that are quite current, consider having a look at Half the Sky: Turning Oppression into Opportunity...
Posted by Greg Laden at 2:36 PM • 42 Comments • 0 TrackBacks
Category: Congo Memoirs
...continued... I was just stepping out of the store, where I had purchased a piece of cloth to bring back to the US, when I heard the awful sound....
Posted by Greg Laden at 9:53 PM • 6 Comments • 0 TrackBacks
Category: Congo Memoirs
Clearly, the naval officer's goal was to take my boat and motor. He essentially said this to me. "It is the job of the navy to confiscate any boat that my be faster or more powerful than the Navy's boat." "Where's your, boat?" "I don't...
Posted by Greg Laden at 4:54 PM • 15 Comments • 0 TrackBacks
Category: Congo Memoirs
As I raised my hand in defiance of the soldiers, I knew for certain that he was never going to give the order to fire. If his intention was to kill me, he would order his men to stand down and simply shoot me with his pistol. But even that was a virtual impossibility. The paperwork that would need to be filled out prohibited that particular decision.
Posted by Greg Laden at 11:21 AM • 8 Comments • 0 TrackBacks
Category: Congo Memoirs
The Congo Memoirs continue. The last episode was Return Of The Green Pickup. The next episode is below the fold .......
Posted by Greg Laden at 12:06 PM • 11 Comments • 0 TrackBacks
Category: Congo Memoirs
... continued from the last Congo Memoir ... Things had been quiet. The research had gone well. It was getting very near time to leave The Congo. Biker had driven one of the vehicles out and caught a plane home. Only Joan and I were...
Posted by Greg Laden at 11:59 PM • 7 Comments • 0 TrackBacks
Category: Congo Memoirs
... there were two things I could not hear. I could not hear any sign of the lions, and I could not hear any sign of Zorba and his crew. Kunuzu would sleep all day if you let him. The others would sleep late if they could. But Zorba and his crew should be up, clanking around in the kitchen area, telling stories, singing. Zorba's booming, gravelly, jovial, challenging, welcoming voice should be wafting back and forth across the camp as he told one person to get working faster, asked another person about his sick uncle, pontificated on the philosophy of monogamous vs. polygynous marriage, and so on and so forth. But there was only silence.
Posted by Greg Laden at 4:01 PM • 14 Comments • 0 TrackBacks
Category: Congo Memoirs
The routine of collecting data continued, Joan with her bones, Biker with his flaming stumps, and me with my animal tracks and trails. Zorba and his crew built a still that worked pretty well. We did make two visits to other parts of the country, and those trips were themselves great adventures I'll have to tell you about some other time. But mostly things were pretty quiet in camp. Until that fateful night.
Posted by Greg Laden at 8:06 AM • 5 Comments • 0 TrackBacks
Category: Congo Memoirs
A routine had settled in. Joan would go off with Zorba and the crew and look for bones. I would go off by myself and track the lions. Biker would go every four hours to check on his burning experimental tree stump. Then one morning it all went very badly.
Posted by Greg Laden at 8:11 AM • 9 Comments • 0 TrackBacks
Category: Congo Memoirs
In a couple of more days, a DC-3 would be landing at the old airstrip near Ishango, loaded up, and then fly away. Biker, Joan and I would be the only bazungu left behind, and Zorba and his crew and Kununzu, the only Zairois. Everyone else would leave. We would miss them, and we would celebrate. Mixed emotion would abound.
Posted by Greg Laden at 8:55 PM • 8 Comments • 0 TrackBacks
PZ Myers 02.04.2012
Orac 02.16.2011
Jason Rosenhouse 02.10.2012
Greg Laden 02.08.2012
ERV 11.26.2011
