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riverman
September 22nd, 2003, 08:39 AM
Life in Congo-Part 5: What a long, strange trip.



Last year at this time, travel restrictions within the city limits of
Kinshasa had just been lifted, but no one was fooled since rogue bands of
soldiers and police were robbing people at impromptu roadblocks anyway.
Midnight to 5 am was the 'witching hour' when anyone on the roads in town
was declaring themselves to be fair game and everyone acknowledged this
unwritten law. The country and world were spectators to a mental debate as
Joseph Kabila was deciding between fulfilling his inherited role as
President, or yielding to the cultural temptation to become dictator (like
his father did, leading to his assassination by disgruntled bedfellows). The
World Bank, the IMF, the UN, the USA, European powers and private
individuals were waiting in the wings with billions of dollars, watching to
see which way he went. The Rebel armies in the east were also jockeying for
position as he debated, and NGOs tried their best to chip away at the
mountain of disorder as national infrastructures stumbled forward under
their own bureaucratic inertia. People scratched out a living selling
chickens, grubs and puppies on the roadside, stores opened and closed within
weeks, businesses popped up and failed overnight, garbage piled up in the
streets, villages hunkered down and anyone with any sense at all stayed at
home and kept the windows and doors locked.



It during this time last year that cabin fever hit, and some friends and I
decided to get as far out of Kinshasa as fate and the roads would allow. The
thought of spending 2 years cooped up in a claustrophobic city was already
eating away my sense of adventure in coming here, and I truly wanted to see
some of the real Congo beyond the safety of our compound. We found a website
for a wilderness park called "Bombo Lumene", which said it was 120km east of
Kinshasa on 'newly paved' roads. The website had no date to indicate how
current its claims were, so we figured it could mean anything. Nonetheless,
the next Saturday, four of us piled into a car and headed east on the only
road out of town to see what we would see.



We got an early start and decided to take a shortcut around downtown, and
although we had all been on the route before, we were hopelessly lost within
minutes. We found ourselves on a tangled web of narrow dirt city roads
crammed with thousands of brightly-dressed people, walking everywhere like
ants swarming on an anthill. Although poverty is rampant in Kinshasa, people
take immense pride in dressing very formally and neatly when they are in
public, so there were men in handmade 3-piece suits, women in bright African
dresses, and younger men in clean, pressed T-shirts. No adults go barefoot
if they can afford not to, and no one wears short pants. There were also
lots of less fortunate folks who could not afford nice clothes, wrapped in
dirty rags and torn clothing, many of them hobbling along on stumps of legs
using pieces of scrap wood as homemade crutches, or with clubs for hands
from injuries sustained in the war or from a myriad of birth defects that
the civilized world has learned to foresee and prevent. The streets were
jammed with broken-down cars and washed-out potholes, and rimmed with miles
and miles of makeshift open-air stalls selling cellphone cards, shoes,
vegetables, furniture, used tires and anything else imaginable. People
generally stopped and looked at us as we drove through, so we uneasily
locked our doors and navigated using the high buildings of downtown on the
horizon as a guiding landmark. Eventually, we found our way past the big
stadium where Ali fought the 'Rumble in the Jungle', and out to the
recognizable main road and were back on our way, feeling relieved and a
little embarrassed at our fear.


Within 5 miles of passing the airport on the eastern extreme of Kinshasa, we
were stopped by a long queue of parked cars in the road. With no idea of
what was causing the bottleneck, we waited until the heat got really
uncomfortable, and I got out and walked to the front of the line and
inquired of the soldier there. I barely could understand his reply (not
being particularly fluent in French at that time), but it had something to
do with a bridge that was down. I went back to the car and told my friends,
who were by now surrounded by about 50 kids with big eyes, dirty, torn
clothes, various sores and deformities, and all with hands out, palms up,
saying "Money, gimme money, mundale" (mundale is Lingala for 'white guy').
Like money would have done anything for them; they needed food and medical
care. Some had climbed up to sit on the hot hood of the car, and several had
pressed against the side windows, leaving smudges of dirt from their hands
and faces. The consensus among the women in the car was to turn back for the
familiarity of the campus, but the men vetoed, probably in an effort to
regain some self-pride after our nervous drive through the urban zone, so we
sat in the 100-degree temps waiting to see what would happen.



Soon, the soldier came down the line of cars and when he saw us besieged by
the kids, he shooed them off and told us to pull out and move down the road.
We edged our way into the masses of people walking in the driving lane and
gently nudged our way to the front of the line where traffic was just
starting to creep forward. Soon, we were working our way past a huge
one-lane dirt bridge that construction crews were building over a wide
gulley which had apparently flooded and washed out the road. There were a
dozen workers sitting around and several others working with shovels,
filling in dirt around a new culvert. Several huge Caterpillar bulldozers
and a backhoe stood idle. This causeway was about 200 meters long and 50
meters tall, but the culvert they were putting in was only about one meter
in diameter, so it was clear that it was only a matter of time before the
road washed out again. We just motored through and continued on our journey,
thankful for the air conditioning and open road.



A few kilometers farther down the road, we were definitely beyond the city
limit. The buildings were gone and replaced with clusters of bamboo or stick
and mud buildings, chickens and dogs digging in hardpan yards, and grasses
and patches of trees along the road. We had been encountering some strange
small piles of dirt alongside the shoulder with tall green branches sticking
up in them. These piles were every few hundred meters, were about a foot
tall, and occurred in rows, separated by about 10 meters. Ahead, where the
road rounded a bend, one set of dirtpiles progressed their way into our
lane, forcing us into the oncoming lane. Fortunately, there was no other
traffic on the road as we rounded the bend on the wrong side. When we came
through the corner, we discovered that these were the Congolese version of
traffic cones, as there was a huge 1-ton truck stacked with about 2 tons of
sacks, goats, leaves, tree trunks and topped with about 40 people, broken
down right in the middle of our lane. The driver and some passengers had the
front end propped up on some tree stumps, and the entire front end was on
the ground, completely in parts. The people were just sitting there, looking
at the pieces and then at us as we zoomed by. A few of them waved,
instinctively ending the wave by turning their hands over, palms up.
Mundale..money.



A few hundred meters farther, we passed some kids rolling a huge truck tire
down the road and carrying part of a front end. We had no idea where they
expected to get it repaired, but then a few kilometers farther we
encountered another broken down truck, the same model, burned out and
obviously having been there for several years. There were 3 guys with
wrenches and crowbars, tearing the front end apart. Recycle, repair, reuse.
Impressive, but they still had a long way to go.



The road really started getting potholed out now; we were about 40 km out of
town and it had taken about 3 hours with getting lost and the bridge delay.
On the left, we passed an elegant oriental pagoda, with an ornate arch and
colorful paneling, hundreds of windows glinting in the sun. Only the
overgrown trees, the underbrush and the grass-choked parking lot gave an
indication that it had been abandoned. Probably some sort of Embassy getaway
for a far eastern ambassador, back in the good old days. We took a few quick
pictures and rolled on by.



The road forked. With no road sign or map to guide us, we decided to follow
the left fork, as it looked like the more used. On the left, a few
kilometers later, there was a spectacular overlooking view of a fishing
village on the shore of the Congo River below, so I hopped out for a quick
picture. We could hear drums coming from the village. Within minutes,
several dirty children emerged from the brush and timidly held out their
hands. I sighed, dug into my pocket and handed each of them 100 Congolese
francs, and got back in the car to head back down the road. Behind me, I saw
the children waving as we drove off, and then disappear back into the brush.



After about 45 minutes, when the road dead-ended in a small fishing village
on the Congo we realized our error and backtracked. There was no sign of the
children at the overlook. Once we got back to the fork and were on the right
road, we started encountering more and more trucks.the same 1-ton cargo
haulers, all broken down. It seemed like there was one every kilometer, each
one with the front end jacked up, and a wheel off. There were dozens of
people sitting around each one, patiently waiting for the repairs to be
done. Later, I heard that people will wait patiently for days and days,
since they have paid the driver for transportation and cannot afford to buy
a ride on another passing truck. Sometimes, you will see dozens of people
standing with their goods, apparently having been evicted on the roadside
for a better-paying shipment of cargo.



After another 50 km, we came to another bridge, but this one was definitely
impassable. It crossed a river about 50 meters wide, with two spans joining
at a center piling. However, the spans were completely broken off of the
center piling, and both sides were dropped 75 feet down into the river,
lying surrealistically like two roadways bowing to a monument standing
mid-river. Running parallel to the old bridge was a WW2-looking metal 'tank
bridge', which I had seen in Israel as temporary river crossings for APCs
and other war machines. We drove across this structure, rusty and rattly, as
the fishermen and washerwomen on the old tarmac looked up at us, and
continued on our way. The army guard who had been distracted doing something
in the bushes when we arrived came running out of the woods waving his arms
at us. We stopped and showed him our passports and registration, then gave
him 200CF, the Congolese equivalent of 50 cents, and kept going.



After this crossing, the road began to climb a steep hill with many
switchbacks and blind corners. We had grown accustomed to dodging the
potholes and numerous broken-down trucks, and were surprised when we came
around one corner and encountered a truck that was moving slowly along our
lane, surrounded by 20 passengers all jogging alongside. My first thought
was that they were walking to take a load off of the truck engine and tranny
as it climbed the big hill. However, alongside the road we saw several
trucks that had driven off the road, crashing deeply into the woods or off
the cliff. I realized that the passengers knew that truck brakes could fail,
and it was safer on a hill to be running alongside the slow-moving behemoth
than to be riding on top as it careened off the cliff or rolled over from
the embankment. All the wrecked trucks had been stripped of front-end parts.



At the top of the rise we found ourselves on the central Congo Plateau. The
road ran straight to the horizon, short grass framing the dirt and tar
2-lane road as it disappeared into the distance, headed towards the jungle
hundreds of miles east. There were a few people each kilometer, walking,
carrying gigantic loads of firewood or vegetables or lugging 20 gallon water
jugs, all balanced on their heads. We passed through a village with a dozen
or so stalls set up on the street side with colorfully garbed women among
the dust and debris, selling white flour in burlap bags, grubs, vegetables,
liboke, fu-fu or chiquane (a gummy, white Congolese staple food), sugar or
honey covered with swarming wasps, Coca Cola, fruits, meat and various
canned goods stacked in neat pyramids. The market was set up for the trucks
that passed through, and obviously the people riding on the trucks were
supplying the stalls with their wares, some from the jungle, some from
Kinshasa. On the edge of town, makeshift garages were set up in bamboo huts
with welders, compressors, tire jacks and truck parts: the Congolese version
of an all-purpose truck stop. Recalling the stripped-down wrecks on the
hillside, I had no doubt where the parts came from. Folks stared at us as we
rolled through, and I was tempted to suggest stopping to buy something to
eat, but didn't.



Within another 20 miles, we saw a road sign in the distance. Approaching it,
it announced our arrival at Bombo Lumene Park, and directed us 5 km down a
dirt road running straight across the plateau. We drove down the road and
arrived at a small grass clearing with three log cabin buildings that had
seen better days. We met the manager who told us that the animals had been
killed and eaten years before, and obtained a price list for visiting and
accommodation. Because of the lateness of our arrival, we only had time for
a quick hike down to the Lumene River to see if it was fishable. It was,
unfortunately, in flood stage, and the thin rope bridge used to cross it was
washed out. The manager told us that there were tigerfish in it (little m'
boto, not the giant type in the big river) however the best fishing for them
was at low water in the fall, although he did not know anything about fly
fishing. He said that he had maybe three visitors a month, and we promised
to come back in the fall, and started our journey back to Kinshasa just as a
light rain started to fall.



The drive back was uneventful: we rolled through the market town, drawing
stares from the people in the stalls again, then rolled down the big hill,
mindful that we might encounter people on foot jogging beside cargo trucks.
At the fallen bridge, the guard recognized us and waved us through with a
smile. Back at the fork in the road, we laughed about our wrong turn, and
continued on the road to Kinshasa. About 25 km from town, we approached a
two-lane bridge across a large river that we did not remember, and slowly
drove up to the crossing. The oncoming lanes looked sort of familiar, but
our lanes looked unused and it appeared that there was a pile of dirt on the
far side. We crossed slowly, saw the policeman guarding the far lanes and
remembered crossing over on the outbound leg of our trip because there were
some significant speed bumps there. However, some soldiers suddenly stepped
out in front of us, and indicated for us to open our window. In broken
English, the soldier explained that THIS side of the bridge was closed, and
we had trespassed. We explained that we had just crossed over a few hours
earlier, but he indicated that we had crossed on the OTHER side, which was
under the control of the police, and that they can make whatever rules they
choose, however THIS side was controlled by the army and now we had a
'problem', and needed to pay them something. We looked at the policeman,
expecting him to come over and intervene, but he just watched from his side.
Reluctantly, we paid the soldiers a few hundred francs each, and were
allowed to proceed.



A short while later, we crossed the dirt causeway, cruised past the airport
and were back in familiar territory. The two guys vowed to make the journey
again in the fall when the river was lower, and the women laughed and said
'have a good trip!'



So, last weekend, the two men who had done the trip last year and another
new teacher decided to head out and spend the night at Bombo Lumene park, do
some fishing, and see if the situation in the countryside had changed at
all. We left on Saturday morning, and again got hopelessly lost making the
shortcut around town. However, this time it all felt considerably more
friendly and safe. The same people were walking around in the same colorful
clothing, the streets were still clogged with pedestrians and broken-down
cars, and the roads were still beat up and potholed, but a year had passed
and it all felt more familiar to us. We found our way past the stadium and
to the main road using the downtown building as landmarks again, and soon
were rolling past the airport. We were across the new causeway within
minutes, and realized that the road had been freshly paved from town and out
at least that far. The new tarmac didn't last long, however we quickly found
ourselves at the pagoda, past the army/police bridge, then at the fork in
the road. Amazed at how close it all seemed to Kinshasa this time, we
happily headed down the correct road and soon were zooming past the
brokedown trucks and colorful locals carrying their loads on their heads.
Little children ran up to the side of the road when they saw us and waved or
held out their hands for money, not very practical at 80 kilometers per
hour.



Within a few hours, we were approaching the blown-up bridge, and I was able
to tell the story about it that I had heard it at school. Apparently, the
army destroyed it during the revolution when the rebels were approaching in
an effort to keep them out of Kinshasa. The head of the police in Kinshasa,
knowing that the rebels were going to find a way across anyway, contacted
the head of the rebel army, Laurent Kabila, and told him of a ferry crossing
a few kilometers downstream. He asked for asylum and personal safety when
they got to Kinshasa. However, Mobuto heard of his treachery and had him
killed that day, just hours before the army arrived and Mobuto fled.



The soldier guarding the bridge did not stop us this time, but instead stood
at attention and saluted us as we went past. The same washerwomen and
fishermen stared up from the fallen bridge as we crossed, and we again
encountered a slow-moving truck as we climbed up to the plateau on the other
side, surrounded by its regiment of joggers. Soon, we were rolling through
the market town, the same stalls selling the same assortment of goods, but
there were about five cargo trucks parked at the edge of town and hundreds
of people were strolling about. All the garages were busy with repairs.
Another half hour out of town, and we were driving down the access road to
Bombo Lumene, amazed at how much the country had opened up and how easy the
drive was this time.



We spent the night, I got to sleep in my beloved tent on the edge of the big
valley that held the river, staring up through the mesh ceiling at Mars, and
the next morning I was casting flies in the swift current to the elusive m'
boto. I only managed to hook a half-dozen smaller ones, about 5 inches or
so, and to the amazement and amusement of the dozens of local kids who came
down to stare at me, I tossed them back. The rope bridge had been repaired,
and I made several hair-raising crossings, holding on to the vine handrails
as the river rushing beneath gave me vertigo. A steady line of ants had
adopted the bridge as their personal crossing, so I went downstream of the
bridge and cast a #18 black ant pattern and hooked a few more unsuspecting
fish. A local fisherman showed me his catch: m'boto about 30 cm long. I was
impressed, but could not match his netting skills.



We left around noon to come back to Kin, and passed through the market town
one more time. The cluster of trucks was gone, but on the outskirts of town,
several hundred feet down the hill, one of the trucks lie across the road on
its side like a dead animal, its cargo scattered. Men were shoveling rice
and flour into sacks with shovels and hands, and people were gathering their
goods and starting to walk back towards town. One man, holding a young boy
by the hand, pleadingly held up a large bunch of overripe bananas at us. The
look on his face told an angst-filled story that still haunts me: the
Congolese version of Hemingway's "Old Man and the sea." I imagined that this
guy was taking his son into Kinshasa from the bush to sell some bananas and
start to teach the boy how the market worked in this new, emergent economy.
I imagined him saving for months, scraping together the double fare, paying
it to the driver with hope and expectation for the future, and the boy and
him proudly and carefully loading their sacks of bananas on the truck,
hanging them from the side to avoid getting damaged from all the riders on
the truck. I imagined them waving goodbye to his wife, then starting the
long journey across the jungle on the ravaged road. I imagined many times
him sitting with the boy on the side of the road for days as the truck
driver repaired flat tires and broken front ends, desperately watching his
cargo of bananas begin to ripen. Several breakdowns later, they were just a
half day away from Kinshasa, and the truck brakes fail on a hill and the
truck turns over. Thankfully, the boy is unhurt, but the bananas are
destroyed. All he can salvage is this one overripe bunch, worthless at this
market town surrounded by banana trees, and now he will not make it to
Kinshasa, his crop is ruined, and he does not have the fare for passage back
to his village for him or his son. All he has is this one bunch of
worthless, overripe bananas.



We worked our way past the truck and sat with our thoughts as we sped back
to Kinshasa. About 10 km out of town, we decided to explore an exit and
maybe find a stall to buy something to eat or to drink. The exit dumped us
onto a main road of a large, semi-modern village that was hosting some sort
of festival, with a flimsy stage set up and dozens of beer gardens set up by
the local brewery, with colorful plastic tables and seats. There were
50-gallon drums made into stoves, with chicken and fish baking on open
coals, and stalls set up with garden vegetables and fruits for sale. People
were just starting to arrive, so we joyfully parked, pulled up some seats,
and ordered a round of drinks. Several children came and sold us peanuts,
still in the shells and lightly baked, so we listened to the rollicky
Congolese music, drinking our beers, husking peanuts, and feeling a rising
sense of euphoria. We bought a bottle of the local palm wine off a small
girl, and took turns sipping the sweet liquid and washing it down with warm
local beers as the warm buzz start to rise along with our spirits, the
street carnival growing around us. For the first time in a year, I felt like
we were really in CONGO!



I wandered down the street and found some ladies selling liboke, my favorite
local dish made from fish baked in banana leaves with palm oil and
pili-pili, and bought one. I ate it back at the table, enduring some ribbing
from my partners about my fearlessness at eating local food. Just then a
woman came by with a large basket on her head with what appeared to be black
dates. However, these dates were wiggling all around: they were palm grubs,
each one about the size of your big toe, and pulsing and squirming all over
each other. One of the guys dared me to eat one, and truthfully I had always
wondered about them, so I bought a pack of three. I asked the lady to
demonstrate how to eat them. She first bit off the pea-sized head and spit
it out. Then she squeezed the body as she sucked out the innards, leaving
the skin behind like a limp wet sack. The skin is edible, but it's by far
the least tasty part, so for the second one I just tossed the skin away. The
guts tasted a lot like warm mayonnaise, with a hint of earthy flavor. Not
really all that bad, but I prefer the liboke. My friends were satisfyingly
grossed out, but I had earned the looks and admiring glances of several
Congolese near me who had also bought some.



The table next to us was rapidly filling up with some very attractive women
and a few flashy men, definitely from the city, and all covered with gold
jewelry and consuming cases of beer. One man in particular was paying for
everything, and we wondered what the story was, as he was not at all who I
would have guessed was the flashy 'alpha male' of the group. However, the
others kept calling him 'Chef', and eventually one of the women saw us
looking at their group and started chatting with us. She said that he had
just taken over as chief of their tribe that day, and this was his
girlfriend and her friends that he was treating to a day on the town. I went
over and congratulated him, shaking his hand, and she translated that he
wanted to buy our table some beers since he had seen me eat the grubs and
knew we were 'real Congolese mundales'. We happily accepted, and proceeded
to get rather hammered at the kind generosity of the Chef.



A short while later, in that giggly lighthearted drunk mindset, we started
strolling around the festival, which by now had gotten into full swing with
hundreds of partyers, rocking rhythmical music and wonderful smells of
roasting mystery meat. We were the only mundales there, and some dressed-up
clowns spotted us and encircled us, putting on their really funny and
occasionally obscene act. One clown, in whiteface, had a lit cigarette and
kept flipping it into his mouth, making funny faces, then flipping it out
again, still lit. Another had some sort of stick in his belt under his
shirt, and wiggled his hips making his belly look like it was wiggling all
over the place. I wiggled my own middle-aged white guy belly, and he and I
made fun of each other for a few minutes for the mirth of the people
watching. A pair of other clowns did a Michael Jackson-style dance, in
perfect synchronization, then fell down on their butts at the end, leaving
the crowd laughing. The clowns eventually worked their way off, a few franks
richer for their time, and we decided that we were plenty buzzed and needed
to start heading back to the compound before dark. Just then, another pair
approached us. One was a huge Congolese man, dressed sort of similarly to
Uncle Sam, with a stovepipe hat and overcoat, carrying a bicycle wheel. The
other was a midget, no more than 3 feet tall, with short arms and bowed
legs, dressed identically. Wordlessly, the midget stepped in front of us,
held out a hand to stop us, then did a perfect handstand, his little legs
sticking up in the air. The giant spun the bicycle wheel and perched it on
the midgets butt, leaving it spinning like a gyroscope. The midget kicked
his legs and started singing a song. In a fog of surrealistic amazement and
bewilderment, we fell backwards and groped our way outside the crowd and
decided that it <definitely> was time to get out of town. Finding the car,
we paid off the kids who had decided to wash it then guard it against other
kids who would want to wash it again, and headed back to Kinshasa and the
school, wondering what direction the country would be headed in the year to
come. It had been a weekend to remember.





--riverman

Wayne Harrison
September 22nd, 2003, 11:46 AM
"riverman" > wrote in message
...
> Life in Congo-Part 5: What a long, strange trip.


work like this makes the bull**** around here worth suffering.

thanks, myron.

yfitons
wayno

Charlie Choc
September 22nd, 2003, 12:05 PM
On Mon, 22 Sep 2003 08:39:06 +0100, "riverman" >
wrote:

>Life in Congo-Part 5: What a long, strange trip.
>
[snip]

Cool report, Myron. Thanks.
--
Charlie...

Stan Gula
September 22nd, 2003, 01:22 PM
"riverman" > wrote in message
...
> Life in Congo-Part 5: What a long, strange trip.

You write the coolest TRs riverman. Thanks. Especially for the palm grub
episode<g>.

Tim J.
September 22nd, 2003, 02:50 PM
"riverman" wrote...
> Life in Congo-Part 5: What a long, strange trip.

I had to read this report twice. I found it to be akin to a trip to an awesome
place, like the Grand Canyon, where a person can't fathom all of the detail in
any one visit. Great report, Myron.
--
TL,
Tim
------------------------
http://css.sbcma.com/timj

BJ Conner
September 22nd, 2003, 02:55 PM
"leaves with palm oil "
Palm oil is really dangerous, It's not allowed in many countrys now,
Australian for one.


"riverman" > wrote in message >...
> Life in Congo-Part 5: What a long, strange trip.

Cliped another excellant story by a brave man. There's another string
somewhere here about honor and commitment. Some talk - some do. I
stand in awe of your commitment to making the world a better place.

Wayne Harrison
September 22nd, 2003, 03:09 PM
"BJ Conner" > wrote in message
om...
> "leaves with palm oil "
> Palm oil is really dangerous, It's not allowed in many countrys now,
> Australian for one.

lmao. i knew i could count on you, bj, to brighten this dreary monday
morning.

wayno

Herman Nijland
September 22nd, 2003, 03:15 PM
Thanks a lot Myron, a great piece of work.

--
Herman

Ken Fortenberry
September 22nd, 2003, 03:20 PM
riverman wrote:

> Life in Congo-Part 5: What a long, strange trip.

Way cool. Whenever I pinch the heads off big squirmy bugs and squeeze
their guts into my mouth, I'll be thinking of you. ;-)

--
Ken Fortenberry

Osmo Jauhiainen
September 22nd, 2003, 03:29 PM
"riverman" > wrote in message
...
> Life in Congo-Part 5: What a long, strange trip.
>
>

Myron,

This is part V but the first part I've seen! Somehow I have missed the
other parts!

OsmoJ

Herman Nijland
September 22nd, 2003, 03:36 PM
Osmo Jauhiainen wrote:

> "riverman" > wrote in message
> ...
>
>>Life in Congo-Part 5: What a long, strange trip.
>>
>>
>
>
> Myron,
>
> This is part V but the first part I've seen! Somehow I have missed the
> other parts!
>
> OsmoJ
>
>

They were posted quite some time ago. This should give you a good start:
http://tinyurl.com/o80i

--
Herman, just a statisfied customer :-)

Herman Nijland
September 22nd, 2003, 03:38 PM
BJ Conner wrote:

> "leaves with palm oil "
> Palm oil is really dangerous, It's not allowed in many countrys now,
> Australian for one.

<snip>
It's sold as freedom oil now.

--
Herman

Tim J.
September 22nd, 2003, 03:39 PM
"Wayne Harrison" wrote...
> "BJ Conner" wrote...
> > "leaves with palm oil "
> > Palm oil is really dangerous, It's not allowed in many countrys now,
> > Australian for one.
>
> lmao. i knew i could count on you, bj, to brighten this dreary monday
> morning.

No ****. I think palm oil was about the least of riverman's worries, wot?
--
TL,
Tim
(not to mention the other levels of humor provided)
------------------------
http://css.sbcma.com/timj

slenon
September 22nd, 2003, 03:55 PM
>Way cool. Whenever I pinch the heads off big squirmy bugs and squeeze
>their guts into my mouth, I'll be thinking of you. ;-)
>Ken Fortenberry

Please make sure that you photograph such events.

----
Stev Lenon 91B20 '68-'69
Drowning flies to Darkstar
Save a cow, eat a PETA

http://web.tampabay.rr.com/stevglo/index.html/slhomepage92kword.htm

riverman
September 22nd, 2003, 04:20 PM
"BJ Conner" > wrote in message
om...
> "leaves with palm oil "
> Palm oil is really dangerous, It's not allowed in many countrys now,
> Australian for one.
>

Wow, I'd like to know more about that. Too bad, palm oil is <quite> tasty.

>
> "riverman" > wrote in message
>...
> > Life in Congo-Part 5: What a long, strange trip.
>
> Cliped another excellant story by a brave man. There's another string
> somewhere here about honor and commitment. Some talk - some do. I
> stand in awe of your commitment to making the world a better place.

Nah, its not like it seems. There are a lot of people around here who are
actually pretty altruistic. I'm just an escapist trying to avoid the
shackles of life in the US while I try to get some interesting experiences
out of this life. :-)

--riverman

Wayne Harrison
September 22nd, 2003, 04:27 PM
"Tim J." > wrote in message
...
>
> "Wayne Harrison" wrote...
> > "BJ Conner" wrote...
> > > "leaves with palm oil "
> > > Palm oil is really dangerous, It's not allowed in many countrys now,
> > > Australian for one.
> >
> > lmao. i knew i could count on you, bj, to brighten this dreary
monday
> > morning.
>
> No ****. I think palm oil was about the least of riverman's worries, wot?
> --
> TL,
> Tim

yeah, well, scoff if you will, but just the other morning, on the way to
work, i saw a 9 year old kid carelessly stick a curious toe into a *small*
puddle of palm oil. i was unable to prevent the tragedy. within four
seconds of contact, the evil substance had literally melted the flesh from
her bones. oh, god, will i ever forget the stunning, pure ...whiteness...of
her lower leg bone.

thank god the aussies have moved quickly to spare *their* children, and
senior citizens! when will we, arrogant, slothful *******s that we are, act
to prohibit the importation of this hellish liquid?

contact "p.a.p.o", in care of bj conner's email addy, for details of how
to help--won't you help? now, before it's too late...

yfitons
wayno

Tim J.
September 22nd, 2003, 04:40 PM
"Wayne Harrison" wrote...

> contact "p.a.p.o", in care of bj conner's email addy, for details of how
> to help--won't you help? now, before it's too late...

SPAMMER! (I detect a tee-shirt scheme emerging.)
--
TL,
Tim
------------------------
http://css.sbcma.com/timj

Stan Gula
September 22nd, 2003, 04:51 PM
> "BJ Conner" > wrote in message
> om...
> > "leaves with palm oil "
> > Palm oil is really dangerous, It's not allowed in many countrys now,
> > Australian for one.
> >
>
"riverman" > wrote in message
...
> Wow, I'd like to know more about that. Too bad, palm oil is <quite> tasty.


I would like to see a reference for that too. My bull**** meter got up to
75% on that one and I got curious. All I can find is one environmental
action group recommending a boycott of palm oil products that are produced
in areas where the orangutan still lives (because people are clearing
forests to plant oil palms), a few articles on import bans (to shore up
local production), some articles on developing plantations (in Australia),
and a reclassification of 'raw palm oil' in India due to an import tax
loophole. Nothing about dangers in consumption but a lot of signs of a huge
industry (who knew!).

riverman
September 22nd, 2003, 04:57 PM
"Stan Gula" > wrote in message
...
> > "BJ Conner" > wrote in message
> > om...
> > > "leaves with palm oil "
> > > Palm oil is really dangerous, It's not allowed in many countrys now,
> > > Australian for one.
> > >
> >
> "riverman" > wrote in message
> ...
> > Wow, I'd like to know more about that. Too bad, palm oil is <quite>
tasty.
>
>
> I would like to see a reference for that too. My bull**** meter got up to
> 75% on that one and I got curious. All I can find is one environmental
> action group recommending a boycott of palm oil products that are produced
> in areas where the orangutan still lives (because people are clearing
> forests to plant oil palms), a few articles on import bans (to shore up
> local production), some articles on developing plantations (in Australia),
> and a reclassification of 'raw palm oil' in India due to an import tax
> loophole. Nothing about dangers in consumption but a lot of signs of a
huge
> industry (who knew!).
>

Yeah, I'm pretty sure the bull**** meter is pegged on this. Palm oil
manufacturing is what has traditionally kept the majority of western Congo
alive through the past 20 years. The Peace Corp is actively working to
replant overmature oil palms (they have a productive lifespan of about 10-15
years before they are too tall to climb) and its a major staple for about
800 million africans. If anything, there might be some first world Food and
Drug conflicts with the sanitation or quality of the product, since it IS
being produced in the heart of the jungle, and transported in all sorts of
marginally sterile containers (lets not even go there). But as for its
inherent danger...not a chance.

--riverman

--riverman

Scott Seidman
September 22nd, 2003, 05:00 PM
"Stan Gula" > wrote in
:

>> "BJ Conner" > wrote in message
>> om...
>> > "leaves with palm oil "
>> > Palm oil is really dangerous, It's not allowed in many countrys
>> > now, Australian for one.
>> >
>>
> "riverman" > wrote in message
> ...
>> Wow, I'd like to know more about that. Too bad, palm oil is <quite>
>> tasty.
>
>
> I would like to see a reference for that too. My bull**** meter got
> up to 75% on that one and I got curious. All I can find is one
> environmental action group recommending a boycott of palm oil products
> that are produced in areas where the orangutan still lives (because
> people are clearing forests to plant oil palms), a few articles on
> import bans (to shore up local production), some articles on
> developing plantations (in Australia), and a reclassification of 'raw
> palm oil' in India due to an import tax loophole. Nothing about
> dangers in consumption but a lot of signs of a huge industry (who
> knew!).
>
>
>

I've always heard that oiling up your palm can lead to blindness

Scott

riverman
September 22nd, 2003, 05:03 PM
"Scott Seidman" > wrote in message
. 1.4...
> "Stan Gula" > wrote in
> :

> >
> > I would like to see a reference for that too. My bull**** meter got
> > up to 75% on that one and I got curious. All I can find is one
> > environmental action group recommending a boycott of palm oil products
> > that are produced in areas where the orangutan still lives (because
> > people are clearing forests to plant oil palms), a few articles on
> > import bans (to shore up local production), some articles on
> > developing plantations (in Australia), and a reclassification of 'raw
> > palm oil' in India due to an import tax loophole. Nothing about
> > dangers in consumption but a lot of signs of a huge industry (who
> > knew!).
> >
> >
> >
>
> I've always heard that oiling up your palm can lead to blindness
>

Yeah, but NOT oiling up your palm can lead to all sorts of other problems.

--riverman
(you've been warned!)

rb608
September 22nd, 2003, 05:03 PM
"riverman" > wrote in message
...
> If anything, there might be some first world Food and
> Drug conflicts with the sanitation or quality of the product, since it IS
> being produced in the heart of the jungle, and transported in all sorts of
> marginally sterile containers (lets not even go there). But as for its
> inherent danger...not a chance.

IIRC, there was a big thing a few years ago about its cumulative
contribution to high cholesterol through its prevalence in things like
non-dairy coffee creamers. Beyond that, though, I've never heard anything
about it being dangerous (and even that may be wrong.)

..02,
Joe F.

riverman
September 22nd, 2003, 05:07 PM
"rb608" > wrote in message
...
>
> "riverman" > wrote in message
> ...
> > If anything, there might be some first world Food and
> > Drug conflicts with the sanitation or quality of the product, since it
IS
> > being produced in the heart of the jungle, and transported in all sorts
of
> > marginally sterile containers (lets not even go there). But as for its
> > inherent danger...not a chance.
>
> IIRC, there was a big thing a few years ago about its cumulative
> contribution to high cholesterol through its prevalence in things like
> non-dairy coffee creamers. Beyond that, though, I've never heard
anything
> about it being dangerous (and even that may be wrong.)
>
>

Try to track that down, Joel, just for curiosity. This site
http://mpob.gov.my/nut_12fact.htm says just the opposite, but we all know
about scientific research, especially the kind funded by the manufacturers
of the product itself.

Another site said how Palm Oil is the number two most consumed oil in the
world, behind Sunflower oil! I had no idea how large an industry it was.
--riverman

Mary Malmros
September 22nd, 2003, 05:15 PM
"Stan Gula" > writes:

> > "BJ Conner" > wrote in message
> > om...
> > > "leaves with palm oil "
> > > Palm oil is really dangerous, It's not allowed in many countrys now,
> > > Australian for one.
> > >
> >
> "riverman" > wrote in message
> ...
> > Wow, I'd like to know more about that. Too bad, palm oil is <quite> tasty.
>
>
> I would like to see a reference for that too. My bull**** meter got up to
> 75% on that one and I got curious. All I can find is one environmental
> action group recommending a boycott of palm oil products that are produced

Wrong kind of "dangerous". It's a monstrous clog on the arteries.
In its native form, I believe, it's got quite a bit of saturated
fat, and it frequently shows up in food products in a hydrogenated
form, which is the worst stuff out there. So, it's not bull****,
but nevertheless a really bizarre non sequitur.

--
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: ::::::::::::::::::::::::
Mary Malmros
Some days you're the windshield,
Other days you're the bug.

JR
September 22nd, 2003, 05:22 PM
riverman wrote:
>
> Try to track that down, Joel, just for curiosity. This site
> http://mpob.gov.my/nut_12fact.htm says just the opposite, but we all know
> about scientific research, especially the kind funded by the manufacturers
> of the product itself.
>
> Another site said how Palm Oil is the number two most consumed oil in the
> world, behind Sunflower oil! I had no idea how large an industry it was.

Most of the palm oil in the world is used for industrial purposes. It's
where the brand name Palmolive came from.....

You ever get to Eastern Congo, have rice and beans at the market in
Bukavu..... tomatos, onions, pilipili, and swimming in palm oil...
tastes so good you won't care you're arteries are clogging.

Wolfgang
September 22nd, 2003, 05:26 PM
"Wayne Harrison" > wrote in message
. ..
>
> "Tim J." > wrote in message
> ...
> >
> > "Wayne Harrison" wrote...
> > > "BJ Conner" wrote...
> > > > "leaves with palm oil "
> > > > Palm oil is really dangerous, It's not allowed in many
countrys now,
> > > > Australian for one.
> > >
> > > lmao. i knew i could count on you, bj, to brighten this
dreary
> monday
> > > morning.
> >
> > No ****. I think palm oil was about the least of riverman's
worries, wot?
> > --
> > TL,
> > Tim
>
> yeah, well, scoff if you will, but just the other morning, on
the way to
> work, i saw a 9 year old kid carelessly stick a curious toe into a
*small*
> puddle of palm oil. i was unable to prevent the tragedy. within
four
> seconds of contact, the evil substance had literally melted the
flesh from
> her bones. oh, god, will i ever forget the stunning, pure
....whiteness...of
> her lower leg bone.
>
> thank god the aussies have moved quickly to spare *their*
children, and
> senior citizens! when will we, arrogant, slothful *******s that we
are, act
> to prohibit the importation of this hellish liquid?
>
> contact "p.a.p.o", in care of bj conner's email addy, for
details of how
> to help--won't you help? now, before it's too late...
>
> yfitons
> wayno

Codswallop!

When palm oil is outlawed only the gubmint will have palm oil!

My wife, yes. My dog, maybe. My palm oil, NEVER!

If they want my palm oil they'll have to slide it from my slippery
dead hands!

Wolfgang
i am the npoa and i vote. :(

riverman
September 22nd, 2003, 05:26 PM
"JR" > wrote in message
...
> riverman wrote:
> >
> > Try to track that down, Joel, just for curiosity. This site
> > http://mpob.gov.my/nut_12fact.htm says just the opposite, but we all
know
> > about scientific research, especially the kind funded by the
manufacturers
> > of the product itself.
> >
> > Another site said how Palm Oil is the number two most consumed oil in
the
> > world, behind Sunflower oil! I had no idea how large an industry it was.
>
> Most of the palm oil in the world is used for industrial purposes. It's
> where the brand name Palmolive came from.....

MOST interesting! :-)
>
> You ever get to Eastern Congo, have rice and beans at the market in
> Bukavu..... tomatos, onions, pilipili, and swimming in palm oil...
> tastes so good you won't care your arteries are clogging.

Will do, but that's what I have for lunch every day now! A local woman
brings a basket of food on campus for the workers, and I eat with them to
get the tasty food and to practice my Lingala. She makes rice and beans
almost every day, but sometimes replaces it with rice and a
kasava/caterpillar mix that is pretty good. One week I was gone for a
conference, and when I returned, someone told me that the Congolese at the
table were wondering where I was. I said "but they don't know my name! What
did they call me?" He translated her reply" They call you 'the white guy who
eats beans and rice each day'."

--riverman
(twgwebared)

Wolfgang
September 22nd, 2003, 05:31 PM
"Stan Gula" > wrote in message
...

.....(who knew!).

PalmoliveT

Wolfgang
a registered trademark of colgate-palmolive.

Tim J.
September 22nd, 2003, 05:34 PM
"Mary Malmros" wrote...
<snip>
> So, it's not bull****,
> but nevertheless a really bizarre non sequitur.

It is amazing to me that someone I've never seen post on roff before can sum up
its essence in one short sentence. <golf clap>
--
TL,
Tim
.. . . well, except for the "it's not bull****" part.
------------------------
http://css.sbcma.com/timj

riverman
September 22nd, 2003, 05:34 PM
"Mary Malmros" > wrote in message
...
> "Stan Gula" > writes:
>
> > > "BJ Conner" > wrote in message
> > > om...
> > > > "leaves with palm oil "
> > > > Palm oil is really dangerous, It's not allowed in many countrys
now,
> > > > Australian for one.
> > > >
> > >
> > "riverman" > wrote in message
> > ...
> > > Wow, I'd like to know more about that. Too bad, palm oil is <quite>
tasty.
> >
> >
> > I would like to see a reference for that too. My bull**** meter got up
to
> > 75% on that one and I got curious. All I can find is one environmental
> > action group recommending a boycott of palm oil products that are
produced
>
> Wrong kind of "dangerous". It's a monstrous clog on the arteries.
> In its native form, I believe, it's got quite a bit of saturated
> fat, and it frequently shows up in food products in a hydrogenated
> form, which is the worst stuff out there. So, it's not bull****,
> but nevertheless a really bizarre non sequitur.
>


Hi Mary: I think I'm finding that the culprit is Palm Kernal Oil, which is
86% saturated fats and contributes to LDLs, whereas Palm Oil (or Palm Nut
Oil) is 50% saturated fats, and does not raise LDLs, and some resources
claim that it even is beneficial to the HDL/LDL ratio. I think what they use
here for consumption in raw form is Palm Nut Oil, but I could easily be
wrong on this (and will post the appropriate apology to BJ for challenging
his useful and thoughtful statement.

In fact, I'll just do that now. Sorry, BJ; calling your claim bull**** was
pretty insensitive and brash on my part. Looks like theres a lot more to it
than meets the eye, so thanks for the heads-up. I was WAY too quick on the
draw.

--riverman

riverman
September 22nd, 2003, 05:36 PM
"Tim J." > wrote in message
...
>
> "Mary Malmros" wrote...
> <snip>
> > So, it's not bull****,
> > but nevertheless a really bizarre non sequitur.
>
> It is amazing to me that someone I've never seen post on roff before can
sum up
> its essence in one short sentence. <golf clap>
> --
> TL,
> Tim
> . . . well, except for the "it's not bull****" part.


Whoa, there Tim! Its crossposted to rec.boats.paddle (another newsgroup I
frequent, as well as some other roffians), and Mary is NOT someone you want
to tangle with. She stands up for herself quite well.

This might get VERY interesting. :-)

--riverman

riverman
September 22nd, 2003, 05:38 PM
"Wolfgang" > wrote in message
...
>
> "Stan Gula" > wrote in message
> ...
>
> ....(who knew!).
>
> PalmoliveT
>
> Wolfgang
> a registered trademark of colgate-palmolive.


I'd love to know where Colgate got ITS name. Coal tar, perchance?

--riverman

Wolfgang
September 22nd, 2003, 05:38 PM
"Wolfgang" > wrote in message
...
>
> "Stan Gula" > wrote in message
> ...
>
> ....(who knew!).
>
> PalmoliveT
>
> Wolfgang
> a registered trademark of colgate-palmolive.

Hmph! Stupid computer. The "T" at the end of Palmolive was supposed
to be the itty bitty superposed TM trademark symbol and that's the way
it showed upon on my screen when I typed it.

Wolfgang
stupid computer. :(

Charlie Choc
September 22nd, 2003, 05:40 PM
On Mon, 22 Sep 2003 12:34:10 -0400, "Tim J."
> wrote:

>
>"Mary Malmros" wrote...
><snip>
>> So, it's not bull****,
>> but nevertheless a really bizarre non sequitur.
>
>It is amazing to me that someone I've never seen post on roff before can sum up
>its essence in one short sentence. <golf clap>

Many folks on rec.boats.paddle (where she posts) probably aren't
familiar with you either. <g>
--
Charlie...

riverman
September 22nd, 2003, 05:42 PM
"Charlie Choc" > wrote in message
...
> On Mon, 22 Sep 2003 12:34:10 -0400, "Tim J."
> > wrote:
>
> >
> >"Mary Malmros" wrote...
> ><snip>
> >> So, it's not bull****,
> >> but nevertheless a really bizarre non sequitur.
> >
> >It is amazing to me that someone I've never seen post on roff before can
sum up
> >its essence in one short sentence. <golf clap>
>
> Many folks on rec.boats.paddle (where she posts) probably aren't
> familiar with you either. <g>


Oh, they <will> be. bseg.

--riverman

Ken Fortenberry
September 22nd, 2003, 05:44 PM
riverman wrote:
>
> ... Its crossposted to rec.boats.paddle ...
>
> This might get VERY interesting. :-)

You have no idea. The one I crossposted to rec.music.gdead provided
good entertainment for almost three weeks. ;-)

--
Ken Fortenberry

Tim J.
September 22nd, 2003, 05:56 PM
"riverman" wrote...
>
> "Tim J." wrote...
> >
> > "Mary Malmros" wrote...
> > <snip>
> > > So, it's not bull****,
> > > but nevertheless a really bizarre non sequitur.
> >
> > It is amazing to me that someone I've never seen post on roff before can
> sum up
> > its essence in one short sentence. <golf clap>
> > --
> > TL,
> > Tim
> > . . . well, except for the "it's not bull****" part.
>
>
> Whoa, there Tim! Its crossposted to rec.boats.paddle (another newsgroup I
> frequent, as well as some other roffians), and Mary is NOT someone you want
> to tangle with. She stands up for herself quite well.

If I had noticed the crossposting, I would have eliminated the second group, as
I normally do not like to enter the crossposting milieu. But my post wasn't
meant as a slant towards Mary, but to poke fun at roff, which of course IS full
of bull**** on a regular basis (See - there goes some now.) So Mary, you can
stand up or be seated and it will make no difference to me - whatever makes you
comfortable. :)
--
TL,
Tim
------------------------
http://css.sbcma.com/timj

rw
September 22nd, 2003, 05:58 PM
Stan Gula wrote:
>
> I would like to see a reference for that too. My bull**** meter got up to
> 75% on that one and I got curious. All I can find is one environmental
> action group recommending a boycott of palm oil products that are produced
> in areas where the orangutan still lives (because people are clearing
> forests to plant oil palms), a few articles on import bans (to shore up
> local production), some articles on developing plantations (in Australia),
> and a reclassification of 'raw palm oil' in India due to an import tax
> loophole. Nothing about dangers in consumption but a lot of signs of a huge
> industry (who knew!).

Palm oil is very high in saturated fat (the bad kind).

riverman
September 22nd, 2003, 06:00 PM
"Tim J." > wrote in message
...
>
> "riverman" wrote...
> >
> > "Tim J." wrote...
> > >
> > > "Mary Malmros" wrote...
> > > <snip>
> > > > So, it's not bull****,
> > > > but nevertheless a really bizarre non sequitur.
> > >
> > > It is amazing to me that someone I've never seen post on roff before
can
> > sum up
> > > its essence in one short sentence. <golf clap>
> > > --
> > > TL,
> > > Tim
> > > . . . well, except for the "it's not bull****" part.
> >
> >
> > Whoa, there Tim! Its crossposted to rec.boats.paddle (another newsgroup
I
> > frequent, as well as some other roffians), and Mary is NOT someone you
want
> > to tangle with. She stands up for herself quite well.
>
> If I had noticed the crossposting, I would have eliminated the second
group, as
> I normally do not like to enter the crossposting milieu. But my post
wasn't
> meant as a slant towards Mary, but to poke fun at roff, which of course IS
full
> of bull**** on a regular basis (See - there goes some now.) So Mary, you
can
> stand up or be seated and it will make no difference to me - whatever
makes you
> comfortable. :)
>

Ahh, now that you put it that way, it IS amazing that someone who has never
posted on roff could sum up its essence in one short sentence. I concur!

--riverman
("roff: a really bizarre non-sequitur." I like it.)

Ken Fortenberry
September 22nd, 2003, 06:07 PM
Wolfgang wrote:
> ...
> If they want my palm oil they'll have to slide it from my slippery
> dead hands!

http://www.dailyherald.com/comics/bizarro.htm

--
Ken Fortenberry

rw
September 22nd, 2003, 06:21 PM
Mary Malmros wrote:
>
> Wrong kind of "dangerous". It's a monstrous clog on the arteries.
> In its native form, I believe, it's got quite a bit of saturated
> fat, and it frequently shows up in food products in a hydrogenated
> form, which is the worst stuff out there. So, it's not bull****,
> but nevertheless a really bizarre non sequitur.

While it's true that palm oil is high in saturated fat, so are pork
chops and prime rib. I wouldn't eat a diet very rich in palm oil, but I
don't consider it "dangerous." It's very stable and has a pleasant
flavor. If I recall correctly, it's supposed to be especially good for
baking.

Stan Gula
September 22nd, 2003, 06:40 PM
"rw" > wrote in message
m...
>
> Palm oil is very high in saturated fat (the bad kind).
>

There is no *bad* - it's all relative. As part of a diet that is otherwise
low in saturated fats, it's not going to have any ill effects. In a diet
rich in potato chips, cookies and Twinkies, it would be *very* unhealthy.
If your diet consists primarily of pork butt confit with cracklings, well,
the palm oil might be the only good thing in your diet.

Anyways, the part of the poster's comment I was referring to was that it had
been banned in some countries. I see no evidence of that anywhere.

Scott Seidman
September 22nd, 2003, 07:03 PM
"Stan Gula" > wrote in
:

> If your diet consists primarily of pork butt confit with cracklings,
> well, the palm oil might be the only good thing in your diet.

Mary Ann is making me Atkins. That IS my diet!!

Who knew it could be so pleasant. You follow Dr. Nick's advice to Homer,
where if the food turns paper clear when you rub it, go for it, and you
gloriously shed the pounds.

The bad part is beer is near-verbotten, but hard likker is just fine.

Scott

Tim J.
September 22nd, 2003, 07:48 PM
"riverman" wrote...
> "Tim J." wrote...
> > "riverman" wrote...
> > > "Tim J." wrote...
> > > > "Mary Malmros" wrote...
> > > > <snip>
> > > > > So, it's not bull****,
> > > > > but nevertheless a really bizarre non sequitur.
> > > >
> > > > It is amazing to me that someone I've never seen post
> > > > on roff before can sum up its essence in one short sentence.
> > > > <golf clap>
> > > > . . . well, except for the "it's not bull****" part.
> > >
> > >
> > > Whoa, there Tim! Its crossposted to rec.boats.paddle (another
> > > newsgroup I frequent, as well as some other roffians), and Mary
> > > is NOT someone you want to tangle with. She stands up for
> > > herself quite well.
> >
> > If I had noticed the crossposting, I would have eliminated the
> > second group, as I normally do not like to enter the crossposting
> > milieu. But my post wasn't meant as a slant towards Mary,
> > but to poke fun at roff, which of course IS full of bull**** on a regular
> > basis (See - there goes some now.) So Mary, you can stand up or
> > be seated and it will make no difference to me - whatever makes
> > you comfortable. :)
> >
>
> Ahh, now that you put it that way, it IS amazing that someone who has never
> posted on roff could sum up its essence in one short sentence. I concur!
>
> --riverman
> ("roff: a really bizarre non-sequitur." I like it.)

SPAMMER! I didn't even know you were involved in wayno's tee-shirt business.
--
TL,
Tim
------------------------
http://css.sbcma.com/timj

Willi
September 22nd, 2003, 08:00 PM
riverman wrote:
> Life in Congo-Part 5: What a long, strange trip.

Great stuff like all your past adventures. You got the makings of a book
in there.

Willi

Stan Gula
September 22nd, 2003, 08:14 PM
"rw" > wrote:
>
> Quite so. Moderation in all things (except for flyfishing).
>

I find that the occasional lapse in moderation while drinking is also very
therapeutic. Often that happens in conjunction with fishing. <e.g. that
picture Willi has on his page>

rw
September 22nd, 2003, 08:53 PM
Stan Gula wrote:
> "rw" > wrote in message
> m...
>
>>Palm oil is very high in saturated fat (the bad kind).
>>
>
>
> There is no *bad* - it's all relative.

Exactly. Saturated fats are relatively bad compared to polyunsaturated fats.

> As part of a diet that is otherwise
> low in saturated fats, it's not going to have any ill effects.

Quite so. Moderation in all things (except for flyfishing).

September 23rd, 2003, 05:03 AM
On Mon, 22 Sep 2003 18:00:45 +0100, "riverman" >
wrote:


>
>Ahh, now that you put it that way, it IS amazing that someone who has never
>posted on roff could sum up its essence in one short sentence. I concur!
>
>--riverman
>("roff: a really bizarre non-sequitur." I like it.)
>
She has a lot of common sense. Most long term kayakers have. Keeps
them alive. Especially the white water ones.
--

rbc:vixen,Minnow Goddess,Willow Watcher,and all that sort of thing.
Often taunted by trout.
Only a fool would refuse to believe in luck. Only a damn fool would rely on it.

http://www.visi.com/~cyli

B J Conner
September 23rd, 2003, 05:11 AM
It was a small jest. Riding around in a country where the army and police
are all drinking palm wine and packing AK-47s and decide the law on the
spot is a hell of a lot more dangerous than eating a grub with a little
palm oil.
The main squeeze has us on a healthy diet so it's no palm oil or Chorizo
for us.
I found about the Australia rules when one of my kids brought back some
Mentos from there. We were comparing the ingrediants to some sold here and
there was no palm oil in the ones made for the Australian market. We found
later that the Aussies have a little more common sense than Clarke would
give them credit for.
Most of the stuff I have seen here with palm oil is targeted at the quicky
mart and low income groups, jsut the ones who don't need it and don't read
labels.
I have eaten grubs before. If I had to do it again I would perfect a
microwave reciepe. They were tollable when toasted, but maby wrapped in
bacon and nuked??

"riverman" > wrote in message
...
>
> "Mary Malmros" > wrote in message
> ...
> > "Stan Gula" > writes:
> >
> > > > "BJ Conner" > wrote in message
> > > > om...
> > > > > "leaves with palm oil "
> > > > > Palm oil is really dangerous, It's not allowed in many countrys
> now,
> > > > > Australian for one.
> > > > >
> > > >
> > > "riverman" > wrote in message
> > > ...
> > > > Wow, I'd like to know more about that. Too bad, palm oil is <quite>
> tasty.
> > >
> > >
> > > I would like to see a reference for that too. My bull**** meter got
up
> to
> > > 75% on that one and I got curious. All I can find is one
environmental
> > > action group recommending a boycott of palm oil products that are
> produced
> >
> > Wrong kind of "dangerous". It's a monstrous clog on the arteries.
> > In its native form, I believe, it's got quite a bit of saturated
> > fat, and it frequently shows up in food products in a hydrogenated
> > form, which is the worst stuff out there. So, it's not bull****,
> > but nevertheless a really bizarre non sequitur.
> >
>
>
> Hi Mary: I think I'm finding that the culprit is Palm Kernal Oil, which is
> 86% saturated fats and contributes to LDLs, whereas Palm Oil (or Palm Nut
> Oil) is 50% saturated fats, and does not raise LDLs, and some resources
> claim that it even is beneficial to the HDL/LDL ratio. I think what they
use
> here for consumption in raw form is Palm Nut Oil, but I could easily be
> wrong on this (and will post the appropriate apology to BJ for challenging
> his useful and thoughtful statement.
>
> In fact, I'll just do that now. Sorry, BJ; calling your claim bull**** was
> pretty insensitive and brash on my part. Looks like theres a lot more to
it
> than meets the eye, so thanks for the heads-up. I was WAY too quick on the
> draw.
>
> --riverman
>
>

Osmo Jauhiainen
September 23rd, 2003, 07:01 AM
"Herman Nijland" > kirjoitti viestissä
...
> Osmo Jauhiainen wrote:
> > This is part V but the first part I've seen! Somehow I have missed the
> > other parts!
>
> They were posted quite some time ago. This should give you a good start:
> http://tinyurl.com/o80i
>

Thanks Herman! But I was already yesterday evening browsing the history of
roff with google and found all the parts! The news servers I'm using did
not
remember that old messages!

Need some time to read the report from the beginning!

OsmoJ

Mu Young Lee
September 23rd, 2003, 06:37 PM
Excellent recount.

Mu

Bill Mason
September 24th, 2003, 02:08 AM
"riverman" > wrote in message
...
> Life in Congo-Part 5: What a long, strange trip.
>

<gigantic snip>

As usual, I'm late to the party, but that was an incredible, wonderful
report. Thanks for the glimpse into a Congolese reality.

Cheers,
Bill

Willi
September 24th, 2003, 04:33 AM
Stan Gula wrote:
> "rw" > wrote:
>
>>Quite so. Moderation in all things (except for flyfishing).
>>
>
>
> I find that the occasional lapse in moderation while drinking is also very
> therapeutic. Often that happens in conjunction with fishing. <e.g. that
> picture Willi has on his page>
>
>


You do have a certain "glow" in the picture. Your picture is at least
"interesting" some of the pix of other pictures I posted are just BAD. I
did try and put up the "best" of what I have.

I THINK I fixed all the names.

Willi

Stan Gula
September 24th, 2003, 01:43 PM
"Willi" > wrote in message
...
> You do have a certain "glow" in the picture.

Well, the glow was because of the heat from the stove - Wolfgang had it
stoked up and I was really close. Yep, that's my story. And I had the hat
on backwards so Dave could get the legend on the back - which barely shows
up in the picture. By the way, I still owe you a tenner<g> and I'm actually
happy I lost that bet.

Mike McCrea
September 24th, 2003, 06:45 PM
You are a braver man than I am, Mr. Buck.

Thanks for a great read, and a great series. Two hopes:

I hope you continue to write and share these with us as long as you
are in the Congo

and

I hope that your next teaching assignment finds you in some locale
with fewer assult rifles and more rivers to paddle.

riverman
September 24th, 2003, 08:23 PM
"Mike McCrea" > wrote in message
om...
> You are a braver man than I am, Mr. Buck.
>
> Thanks for a great read, and a great series. Two hopes:
>
> I hope you continue to write and share these with us as long as you
> are in the Congo
>
> and
>
> I hope that your next teaching assignment finds you in some locale
> with fewer assult rifles and more rivers to paddle.

Well, I don't think I'm really all that brave, but I'm with you on the last
two points, Mike! I <GOTTA> get on the water for a soul-fulfilling long
distance class 2-3 trip soon. In fact, I've been thinking about emailing you
and seeing if you want to look at some northern Canada excursion for the
last 2 weeks of this summer..? I get done my summer school classes around
July 19, and I'll have until about August 10 before I need to be in Congo.
I'd be up for coming over the pond to do some tripping. I was thinking of 4
people in 3 boats; do something remote, without too many people...wanna
start thinking that way?

--riverman

Bruiser
September 25th, 2003, 01:34 AM
"riverman" wrote (snip)

Thanks for the amazing story riverman. I was glad that there was no gunplay
in this one.

Catching even one fish is awesome in strange conditions like that.

bruce h

September 25th, 2003, 05:51 AM
On Tue, 23 Sep 2003 13:31:28 GMT, (Greg Pavlov)
wrote:

>On Mon, 22 Sep 2003 23:03:39 -0500, wrote:
>
>>She has a lot of common sense. Most long term kayakers have. Keeps
>>them alive. Especially the white water ones.
>
>
> I think that there is a fundamental contradiction
> between "common sense" and "white water kayaking"
> (it *is* a neat sport, tho).


Yes, and no on that. Yes, it takes common sense to survive at it for
long (many survive, but give it up once they find out what they're in
for. I did. Which was common sense for me.) While the decision to do
the sport in the first place may seem reckless, once you grant that
it's a sport to go into, common sense helps a bunch. Run that one or
line it. Which line works best. Scout first or paddle like hell for
what looks like the tongue. All decisions that need common sense to
last long at it. Like climbing, I suppose.
--

rbc:vixen,Minnow Goddess,Willow Watcher,and all that sort of thing.
Often taunted by trout.
Only a fool would refuse to believe in luck. Only a damn fool would rely on it.

http://www.visi.com/~cyli

Mike McCrea
September 25th, 2003, 12:28 PM
"riverman" > wrote

> I'd be up for coming over the pond to do some tripping. I was thinking of 4
> people in 3 boats; do something remote, without too many people...wanna
> start thinking that way?

We're already hoping and planning for a family trip out west next
summer. Diane will be finished with grad school classes and we haven't
been out west with the boys in several years.

We're considering floating a section of the Green in Utah and then
swinging up into Wyoming/Montana before heading back east on some
route up top.

But if I don't get moving soon on the house and shop renovations I'll
more likely end up spending mext summer hanging drywall :-(