Upcountry Burundi

We are back in Bujumbura after several days in the country. It was quite an experience to be in the mountains and to see the magnificent vistas. I'm going to paste Leigh's account of the dancing at the end of this post but wanted to first tell my experience in one of the hotels we stayed in. I use the term loosely since it was not like anything I'd experienced before. The room we were given had an intense mildew smell and we struggled to feel comfortable in it. The single flourescent bulb cast long shadows, but enough for us to see the flying ant carcasses littering the floor and the glow-in-the-dark peach colored mosquito netting with potato bugs. As we crawled into the damp sheets we teased each other about whining and said a prayer that we would sleep through the night. I did wake up at 1 am but had an entirely different attitude. By then the sheets had dried by the heat of our bodies and the netting was doing it's job keeping out the mosquitos. I began thinking of the Batwa, many of whom live in grass huts that don't even keep out the rain. Dirt floors to sleep on, no netting to protect them, showers a rarity and I could only imagine the insects that share their sleeping space. They are the poorest people I have ever seen - how could I complain about our situation? I lay there praying for them and for God to bless them in some way. I want to be a part of that blessing even if in some small way. And yet, they have blessed us with their joy. Unbelievable joy. Pouring out their joy with seemingly unlimited energy. I leave you now to read Leigh's wonderful account of their dancing:

Heidi and I have just returned from two days "up country" to visit some moreBatwa Villages and take a bit of a hike thru the Kibira Park, escorted by some of the villagers from the Batwa Village, Busekera. I wanted to give you a little vinette on the Batwa Dancing. You have to imagine the setting first of the poorest of people, clad in very ragged clothes. The youngest children wear torn t-shirts only that you would say has been rolling in the dirt for many, many days. The women are colorfully dressed, but not as bright, generally, as the rest of the population in Burundi. The men are wearing trousers and torn shirts, sometimes a ragged overcoat. All are mostly bare footed, but if not they will wear flip flops or plastic sandals. I think there was a recent run on bright yellow ones, however. ha ha ...many seem to have that one in particular. Quite cute...We are also up in the upper country, as they call it.. We gained elevation of maybe several thousand feet by car...So, it is all country side, rolling hills with terraced farming throughout. Banana plants, tea plants, potatoes and the like.When we come into the village, it doesn't take a minute before the dancing begins. First of all, they know we are part of the Community for Burundi, an organization that advocates for the Batwa people. So, we are friends...come with people that are steadfast and focused on helping the Batwa.The women and men both dance with incredible enthusiasm. Often it seems to begin with a group of ladies. The whistle (either regular whistle or a small pipe kindof whistle) goes into the mouth and then the feet begin to move in rhythm, the arms wave and the body follows. The sound of the bare feet hitting the dirt has a collective thump to it that propells forward the body and adds the rhythm necessary to frame the singing and dancing. They will shake their head in a circular fashion and follow with a twist of the feet and turn a 360 with their body. All the while chanting, singing a welcoming song to us with great gusto. The men jump in as soon as they hear the whistle blow and have an intensity and strength to their moves that add another competing yet compatible fit to the entire chorus. Even as we dashed into the shelter of the local pastor's home to avoid a downpour, much of the village remained outside still singing and dancing. After we toured the village and turned up the trail to our car, spontaneous songs broke out accompanied by the bare feet thumping the ground, hands clapping a great staccato beat. Throughout all of our visits to the villages we join them in dance, twirling,pounding our feet as best we can, of which they have a tickling delight. Scantily clad, many of them smelling as bodies that have infrequent washings(cannot afford soap), theirs is an infectious joy that they exude and which slips into your heart for the Batwa people of Burundi.