Ruminations on the Sublime and The Hobbit

Oren showing Papa Dave the offerings of Cafe Gourmand in Bujumbura--the best Belgian pastry shop in the Southern Hemisphere!

Once again, I find myself with some unexpected time to sit and reflect, on a Sunday morning this time.  David began getting a fever yesterday and I found myself suffering from an earache.  We have been taking it easy since yesterday and stayed home from church this morning.  (Rebecca did take him to BUMEREC for a malaria test which was negative.)

We came back only 3 days ago from our vacation in Kigoma, Tanzania and are enjoying our last week in Burundi with Papa Dave and Grandma Jean, who will be here until Thursday.  Actually they and Rebecca will leaving at the end of next week, Rebecca going to a conference in Kampala, which will leave me alone with the kids for the following week.

We left for Kigoma the previous week (Dec 28^th) and drove the 5 hours down from Bujumbura.  We made one interesting stop.  One of our partners, Help Channel Burundi, was doing an emergency food distribution for some recently returned Burundian refugees from Tanzania.  There has been a forced repatriation in the past 6 months that has resulted in hardship and food insecurity for many of the returnees.  MCC sent a container of emergency food and some school kits that were being distributed at several sites.  It was serendipitous that one of them was on the way south along the lake and we stopped to see the distribution. 

A food distribution is not much to look at on the surface—a truck with supplies was unloaded containing maize, beans, canned turkey meat and school kits.  There was a team there with a list of eligible recipients and many in line---many not on the list.  Rebecca and Jean Sack took the opportunity to interview several women (and men) and got details on their stories.  We did an official obligatory speech of introduction and left after that to continue our journey to Kigoma. We crossed the border without a problem although the 26 km of dirt road to the border was much worse than normal after some hard rains.  We arrived at Jakobbson beach in the late afternoon.

Sublime.  A word I often ponder, was first impressed upon my consciousness in reading Kant’s Critique of Judgment in grad. school.  He, the master of metaphysical categories, defines 3 types of experience of the sublime:  the noble, the splendid and the terrifying.  For him there is an important distinction between the experience of beauty and the experience of the sublime, although there are some similarities.  Beauty is defined by the 'boundaries' of the object admired-- (ex. a rose) while the sublime is experienced as boundless because of the magnitude of the object (ex. a glacier).  The experience of the sublime is the pleasure in seeing an overpowering, vast, object of great magnitude that renders the viewer insignificant and mortal.  It is this peculiar experience of terror, without actually being afraid, that gives one the sense of the sublime. 

I would say that Kigoma, is a place where one encounters the sublime in the experience of the splendid.  I have described in the past the particulars of the Jakobbsen beach with its cottages, lagoon like beachfront, on a crystal clear shore of Lake Tanganyika.  Not to mention the immensely bouldered savannah on a high plateau that offers one a view of an immense peninsula overlooking the vast surrounding lake, town, and mountains of DRC.  A zebra and troup of monkeys paid regular visits to our front porch, and we enjoyed snorkeling, swimming and bouldering on the beaches and surrounding cliffs. 

Lake Tanganyika itself has a certain claim on the sublime being the second deepest lake in the entire world.  The thought of the bottom, largely unexplored extending 1000s of feet below the surface is terrifying enough.  But Kigoma offers a unique opportunity to experience its depth in a small way because of the clarity of the water surrounded by rocky cliffs and sand.  The clarity of the water affords a great opportunity for snorkeling that feels almost coral reef like.  Tropical fish swim around the boulders close to the shore, but one can snorkel away from the shallows and see down to depths of 30 to 50 feet fairly easily.  Plunging down for a surface dive in the late afternoon, one experiences a rapid cooling of the water with each passing meter.  It is an exciting place to snorkel and swim as well. 

Rebecca and I enjoyed swimming between points in the lagoon, clear as swimming pool 10 feet deep but 175 to 200 meters across.  Although there are no hippos or crocs ever sighted in this area, the clear water, looking horizontally is scary as one imagines seeing shadowy forms in the underwater distances.

The bouldering could easily be technical climbing for someone properly equipped and so inclined.  As it was, this was a favorite activity of David and Oren who had to be kept from the more dangerously high faces.  We encouraged them to do more ‘horizontal’ bouldering along the shore of the lake, marginally safer.

It was rainy season, and every day was not equally amenable to outdoor activities.  We stayed in much of Monday and Tuesday and worked on a puzzle, played games and read books.

We did a fascinating 1000 piece puzzle based on a miniature old time general store by look-alike artist Joan Steiner.  (If any ‘puzzling’ friends in Burundi want to borrow it, let me know.)

I also read the Hobbit to Oren and David over the 5 day vacation.  (We listened to some of it on the ipod during the 5 hour drive to and from Kigoma.)  It is such a good book, and I was struck by how unnerving it is to imagine ‘men’ at a much lower point on the food chain than we usually imagine ourselves.  Tolkein captures well the sense of hapless survival that becomes one’s life in the face of undeafeatable enemies.  And I can imagine how such fantasy could come out of the mind of someone living in early 20^th century Europe--a place inhabited by formidable enemies who could in essence devour another nation.  (As Germany did in WWII).  The enchanted enemies of the Hobbit, goblins, dragons, wolves, may seem little more than pure fantasy for those of us living in ‘First World’ nations nowadays, our enemies are real, but far less powerful than hordes of goblins or Smaug the dragon.  

I was simultaneously reading Jason Stearns Dancing in the Glory of Monsters—the recent history of DRC starting with the fall of Mobutu.  (This is a must read for those working in the Great Lakes region, in my opinion.)  What was disturbing to me, besides the unbelievable horror of the war in the region beginning in 1994, was the utter depravity of the slaughter of civilian refugees.  The magnitude of death between the Rwanda genocide and the retribution that followed is beyond all capacity to imagine. 

To read these books together, chapter by chapter, one almost feels there is something allegorical in it all from old Smaug—Mobutu, to the dwarves, elves and men all laying claim to the treasure, after his defeat, not to mention the goblins and wolves.  One would have to look hard for someone acting in the noble role of eagles or kindly wizards.  (Foreign powers that have been involved have not seemed so ennobled in their motives)

I have many friends and colleagues that want to find simple roots to these events--conflict metals, colonialism.  But, like Smaug’s arrival and staying power, the greed of dwarves, the histories of bitterness between goblins and men, the causes of war lack easy explanation, and sometimes it seems that small things change the course of history significantly for better or worse.

(I was struck, in the Hobbit, that the whole goblin war of 5 armies was a result of the dwarves quest itself and their stumbling into the lair, causing the death of the Great Goblin.)  There is something comforting realistic about the end of the Hobbit.  Things are better, but dragons are still around, alliances are only so strong, and larger forces are held only at bay, not eradicated.   Noble actions and self-serving motives intermingle and characters may move between one and the other in a way that strikes me as true to life.  More true than what I might read in someone’s biography. 

We finished the Hobbit but I am still working on the other book.  The parallel reading informs my experience of the sublime along the shore of the lake as I contemplate the terrifying legacy of the land I stand upon.  The bloodshed and feudal warfare in this region the past two decades is truly medieval in its horror.  And that is actually what  it is—probably little different from Europe in its feudalistic period.  People live here, like they did in the Hobbit’s ‘edge of the wild’ in uneasy alliances, avoiding enemies, and in some fatalistic awareness of forces far greater than themselves that can change everything for better but more often for the worse.  There is always the opportunity for ruthless and noble actions and the lives of people here full of examples of both.

As a westerner I never feel more awed (in the terrible sense of the word) and yet more removed from this.  We are the ‘hollow men’ here--people without a history of suffering and tribulation.   But awareness changes a person, even me.  Even how I read a book like the Hobbit.  It is no longer a mere fantasy to me.   It is probably closer to the experience of many I live with here than what my life in the US was, complete with creature comforts and continuous trance-inducing claim of mass media and the entertainment industry. 

Sometimes I think history will show our culture to be the true  ‘lotus eaters’ of this age—living life comfortably stoned, (even if we ‘say no to drugs’).

Oops, straying into the tedious role of cultural critic and casting too pessimistic a light on the current state of affairs in Burundi to boot.  Indeed for us here the monster is dead and the goblin wars are over for the time being as lives are being remade.  People are daring to rebuild again and hope for a better future.  It is good to be part of the force for good here in that way, and there are other foreigners here with a similar desire to help in the rebuilding in small ways.

Vacation was refreshing, and having the time to reflect in awe at the majesty and horror of this place has been good.  Perhaps I wax more philosophical because we continue our steady plod to the end of our term.  I have said I fear leaving and I will say it again.  The new year marked another milestone, our last New Year’s here.  We barely acknowledged it on the night, all of us having fallen asleep by 11pm.  Oren desperately wanted us to wake him up to jump off a chair in the Danish tradition we learned from our friends the Spanners, but we were not even able to arouse him to do it at 11.

Our trip back to Bujumbura was without event.  We stopped along the lake at Saga Resha resort for some local fish—mukeke, and fried bananas.  I will say there is nothing like eating the fish fresh from the lake here.  In Kigoma we bought a fresh sangala and grilled it whole over charcoal,  It was incredibly delicious.  It is hard to get it that fresh in Bujumbura and always tastes more ‘fishy’ here.

Rebecca and I did a day of work on Friday while grandparents baby-sat, and they even sat for the kids that evening giving Rebecca and I are rare ‘date night’.   We went to Botanika restaurant and had a very nice evening together.  It seemed like the first time in ages we had time to talk eventhough we have a time of swimming, morning devotional and prayer together most mornings.  Topic of conversation was centered on departure and on being intentional about work, child rearing, working, diet, Sabbath, after our return to the US.

Saturday was a return to the routine of yoga, and the outbreak of David’s fever midday.  I spent Saturday evening with him while Rebecca took her parents to our colleague Felix’s house for dinner.  Patrick came down this weekend as well, for some business and is with us today.   We will likely go to the weekly ultimate game this afternoon.

Looking forward to the kids return to school tomorrow.