PITONGA, SHARING THE BEAUTY
by Herman Vollenbroek
Brief, tantalising and disappointing summarised my first visit to Gabon in 1972. Then, I was a young back-packer making my way through Africa by whatever means possible. The customs officer wasn’t impressed by me or my exploits and sent me on my way with barely a glance, leaving the ‘Non Admis à Libreville’ stamp in my passport as the only comment needed.
Brief, tantalising and disappointing summarised my first visit to Gabon in 1972. Then, I was a young back-packer making my way through Africa by whatever means possible. The customs officer wasn’t impressed by me or my exploits and sent me on my way with barely a glance, leaving the ‘Non Admis à Libreville’ stamp in my passport as the only comment needed.How different to my return 18 years later, when, as a new employee of Shell Gabon I flew in from Paris with my wife and daughter and started what was to become a love affair with this beautiful country.
PARADISE FOUND
We stayed for four years in Camp Yenzi, in Gamba. Life in the camp was good, but ‘camp fever’ is a reality and everyone needs to get away to somewhere different for a while. Some of our colleagues chose the beach, others the nearest cities. We were among the few drawn to the clear waters of the lagoon and the seemingly endless miles of wild forest along its shore.
Our first visit was almost surreal. The water was smooth and still, like glass, and despite the difference in climate and surroundings, boating gently across that mirror-like surface reminded me of ice-skating on the frozen lakes back in the Netherlands.
From then on we spent many hours exploring the area. We loved the landscape, the beauty of the forests, the warmth of the people and the simplicity of life, so much so that we began to dream of having a weekend place of our own somewhere on the shores of the lagoon.
A TRIP TO PITONGA
When they heard about our dream my Gabonese colleagues were delighted and couldn’t have been more helpful, pointing out the advantages and disadvantages, extolling the virtues of different places and introducing us to friends who had land available for these strange foreigners to make use of! One such colleague was Stan Mouguega who invited us to visit his village, Pitonga.
A Saturday morning saw us set sail for Pitonga - and what a difference from our first trip on the lagoon! It rained, heavily and steadily for hours. The boat was tossed and pounded by wild waves. We weren’t convinced we were going to make it, but Stan and his wife knew their lagoon and got us to their village, wet but intact and eager to see what Pitonga had to offer.
A HUT IN THE FOREST
We loved it and wanted it, but this wasn’t about buying a holiday cottage on a European lakeside. Before we could lay claim we had to be approved by the village elders. Fortunately, they saw something worthwhile in us and we were given permission to occupy the plot we chose and build our weekend retreat.
It took us nine months of hard work to clear the land and to build two huts and a veranda. In March 1993 our humble home was ceremoniously opened by our village chief, Joachin, in the presence of the whole village and our colleagues from Shell.
Joachin welcomed us and expressed his surprise and pleasure that a white family had chosen to share the simple life of an African village. But, as he said, if his children could choose to live in the land of white people then there would always be a welcome for white people choosing to live in Pitonga.
VILLAGE LIFE
Despite all the good things, Pitonga had its share of problems. Many of the houses looked neglected; some were barely habitable. Life was at a subsistence level and it became clear that the exodus of the young and strong to the towns and cities had drained some of the spirit from the village.
I could see opportunities to improve village life, to grow more and to generate much needed income. I worked with the elders and we drew-up simple plans for a better life.
But the plans never came into being. The old ways where the old women tended the fields in the face of apathy from the younger generation held sway and the elders were hard pushed to keep the culture alive, let alone build a better life.
OUT OF AFRICA...
Six months later we were back. The grass was up to our waists and the buildings were almost overgrown by bushes and trees. But the disappointment we felt was tempered by the pleasure we shared with friends in the village who had not expected to see us so soon.
It seemed that the whole of our holiday was spent cutting, clearing and cleaning but it was a labour of love and before we left we had the pleasure of enjoying golden moments in harmony with everything and everyone around us.So it was to be for the next eight years. One, maybe two visits a year, arriving to find chaos and leaving a fresh-made paradise behind.
In 2002 we returned to Gabon, expatriated once again to a land that is now as much our home as is the Netherlands. A little hard work with machete and broom turned Pitonga into our weekend haven and we fell into the routine of visits as though we had never left.
THE END OF AN ERA
Maybe it’s just sentimental attachment to the huts and the memories they hold; or maybe we share the village view that change should be slow and graceful. But in recent years rapid change has come to Pitonga.
The area is now part of a national park and the simple hunting, fishing and crop-growing traditions of village life are giving way to a new emphasis on wildlife preservation. The villagers are bewildered and unhappy. It is hard for them to see value in a new way of life that dispenses with their traditions and protect animals which ruin their plantations. Once a delegation of an international wildlife organisation came to the village to instruct the villagers not to kill certain animals and regroup their plantations as to not destroy to much of nature, an elderly stood up to point to the overwhelming nature around the village and asked what exactly they had done wrong after a thousand years of living in harmony with this nature.
WISDOM AND PASSING
Village elders are blessed with wisdom and we count ourselves very fortunate that the Pitonga elders share their wisdom with us. On weekend evenings since our return to Gabon, Jean, the canton chief and his brother, Joachin the village chief – both in their eighties - joined me beneath a mango tree, sharing stories and philosophising about life, culture, the problems with the younger generation and the ultimate taboo, death. We often sat quietly watching the manatees as they surface in the lagoon. Now protected from hunting they were once a delicacy. At such moments Joachin would shake his head gently and sadly, turning to me and saying, almost in a whisper, “Monsieur Herman, it is not the animals that face extinction... it is our village and our way of life.”
Sadly, on Saint Valentine ’s Day 2006 Jean died, leaving three wives, 22 children, dozens of grandchildren and hundreds to mourn his passing. His funeral reflected the love and respect of the Gabonese people and was attended by officials and dignitaries from throughout the country. A year later Stan Mouguega died and in 2010 Joachin passed away. The village itself is now close to death as well with a few of the hard core still remaining, like Gabriel, the oldest son of Jean, who took over his role of canton chief and Henri, another son of Jean, who took over the role of village chief. In 2009, at the age of 62, I retired from Shell and again I had the choice of leaving everything behind or keep the place and use it as a kind of secondary residence. I choose for the second option, renewed the buildings and set up this company Lazare Pambo.
Lazare Pambo is the name of the founder of Pitonga. He passed away in the 1940’s but his memory and reputation of a very strong, wise and powerful person is still very much alive. To honour this great person who always showed the right way of behaviour to his people, especially the youngsters, this company is named Lazare Pambo. The employees hope to restore some of the greatness of living in harmony with nature, together with its customers.
