Silicon Investor (SI) -- The First Internet Community

STOCKTALK

We've detected that you're using an ad content blocking browser plug-in or feature. Ads provide a critical source of revenue to the continued operation of Silicon Investor. We ask that you disable ad blocking while on Silicon Investor in the best interests of our community. If you are not using an ad blocker but are still receiving this message, make sure your browser's tracking protection is set to the 'standard' level.

Politics : The Obama - Clinton Disaster -- Ignore unavailable to you. Want to Upgrade?

To: GROUND ZERO™ who wrote (30486)	5/14/2010 12:44:25 PM
From: Hope Praytochange	Read Replies (1) \| Respond to of 103300

May 13, 2010, 6:11 pm Life in a Congolese Border Town By MITCH SMITH Mitch Smith is a 19-year-old journalism student at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln and the winner of the 2010 Win-A-Trip with Nick contest. He and Nick arrived Sunday in Gabon, Africa–his first time ever outside of the country. Ngongo Border Crossing, Republic of Congo — Stranded at a rural African border crossing is an interesting way to spend the afternoon. A misunderstanding with our driver in Gabon landed us about four hours away from the port of entry where our Congolese UNICEF guides were expecting us, giving us the chance to meet some of this border town’s 99 residents. But even if our ride had been waiting where we planned, it still wouldn’t have been smooth sailing into the Congo. It took about an hour to get past two police checkpoints in Gabon, where our passport information was copied down meticulously and a supposed “road use fee” of about $40 was demanded and paid. Upon arriving in the Congo (and realizing that we had ended up at the wrong crossing), we went through three police and customs checkpoints in the same border village and another just a couple miles down the dirt highway. At first, our passports were checked and information copied down by a man in what looked like a military uniform. The frontier police did the same at the next station (the walls of which were adorned with a picture of President Barack Obama and his 2008 campaign sticker) before customs stamped our passports and sent us back to get our bags, which were then inspected by the police. When our ride with UNICEF arrived later in the day, we were again stopped to have our passports scrutinized. In all, at least 15 frontier police, military and customs officials guard both sides of the remote border. Itoua Brunold, a 15-year Congo Frontier Police veteran and the chief at Ngongo, said about four people pass through the border here on any given day including a few groups of Western tourists each month. As slow as business seemed while we were at the crossing, it was a hopping day compared to Mr. Brunold’s estimate. In our four hours at Ngongo, one commercial truck, a local husband and wife and two German tourists touring Africa on motorcycle crossed the border that constitutes the main highway between the capital cities of Libreville and Brazzaville. Mr. Brunold didn’t sport a police uniform, but rather a powder blue Air Jordan brand tank top and matching nylon shorts. In fact, I didn’t even know he was a policeman (let alone the chief) until we started talking in an odd mix of Latin-based languages, where he tried to understand my Spanglish through his knowledge of Portuguese and some Spanish. It was a peculiar linguistic jumble, with bits of English, French, Portuguese and Spanish infiltrating a conversation driven by constant confused facial expressions, gesticulation and occasional understanding. The interview went surprisingly well, except for the fact that I couldn’t produce a word in Spanish or English for “how many” that he was able to understand. That made finding his tenure with the police, the population of the town and many other basic questions very hard. More From Mitch Smith Read the dispatches from the 2010 “win-a-trip” recipient as he travels with Nicholas Kristof to report on the developing world. All Posts by Mitch Smith » Mr. Brunold seemed very intrigued by our presence at his crossing right from our arrival. He curiously leafed through our passports and inspected all our luggage while repeatedly trying to pronounce “New York Times.” Ngongo itself was an interesting village. With just less than 100 residents, small children seemed to outnumber adults and wandering poultry seemed to outnumber people. The children chewed on their sugar cane while staring at our computers while the village women walked to the river to collect drinking water. Although today’s detour cost us some travel time and spent some patience, it did offer some interesting insights into both village life and the bureaucratic system that mandates six different stops to exit one country and enter another.