Facing the Congo: A Modern-Day Journey into the Heart of Darkness

by Jeffrey Tayler

Faced with an identity crisis in his work and his life, seasoned traveler and journalist Jeffrey Tayler made a bold decision. He would leave behind his mundane existence in Moscow to re-create the legendary British explorer Henry Stanley’s trip down the Congo in a dugout canoe, stocked with food, medicine, and even a gun-toting guide. But once his tiny boat pushed off the banks of this mysterious river, Tayler realized he was in a place where maps and supplies would have no bearing on his survival. As Tayler navigates this immense waterway, he encounters a land of smothering heat and intense rains, wary villagers, corrupt officials and dead-eyed soldiers demanding bribes, jungle animals, mosquitoes, and, surprisingly, breathtaking natural beauty.

Filled with honesty and rich description, Facing the Congo is a sophisticated depiction of today’s Democratic Republic of the Congo, a country brought to its knees by a succession of despotic leaders. But most mportant, Tayler’s stunning narrative is a deeply satisfying personal journey of fear and awakening, with a message that will resonate with anyone who has ever felt compelled, whether in life or in fantasy, to truly explore and experience our world.

Genres: Africa, Travel, Nonfiction, Adventure, Memoir, History, Biography

288 pages, Paperback

First published September 1, 2000

About the author

Jeffrey Tayler is a U.S.-born author and journalist. He is the Russia correspondent for the Atlantic Monthly and a contributor to several other magazines as well as to NPR's All Things Considered. He has written several non-fiction books about different regions of the world which include Facing the Congo, Siberian Dawn, Glory in a Camel's Eye, and Angry Wind, the latter being a portrait of a journey through the Muslim portion of black Africa. His most recent book, River of No Reprieve, is about a challenging raft trip down Russia's Lena River.

Tayler is an accomplished linguist; in addition to his native English, he is fluent in Russian, Arabic, French, and modern Greek, and has a functioning knowledge of Spanish and Turkish.

Reviews

[Szplug · Rating 3 out of 5]

Tayler is an interesting dude—fresh off of a spell as manager of a bodyguard firm in the newly unleashed free-market-chaos of Moscow, and suddenly single after a painful breakup, he decided to test himself by traversing the 1,736 kilometre stretch of the equatorial Congo River between far-inland Kisangani and near-coastal Kinshasa, a voyage down the endless, jungle-limned, liquid serpent traversing the breadth of that vast, horrific nation-state clusterfuck alternately called the Democratic Republic of the Congo or, at the time of the journey, the Republic of Zaire. More-or-less fluent in French, and having taken a crash course in Lingala, a lingua franca for much of that part of Equatorial Africa, during the dry season of 1995 Tayler embarked into his own personal Heart of Darkness by crossing the Lower Congo from the comparatively stable and prosperous city of Brazzaville, the capital of the Republic of the Congo, into the miasmatic hell of Kinshasa, the decrepit capital of the Republic of Zaire. Tayler's quest was undertaken during the waning days of the rule of the charismatic tyrant Mobutu Sese Seko—the Big Man of Naipaul's A Bend in the River —when, the Cold War having melted away, those competitive dollars from the Soviets and the Americans had all but dried up, leaving the ruler and his coterie to plunder whatever remained of value and still functioning in the grossly humid environment.

Tayler's description of his passage from Brazzaville to Kinshasa is stomach-clenching—as a privileged white male from a wealthy North American democracy, I could completely commiserate with the author's burgeoning consternation at the ever-increasing crowd of angry and/or desperate blacks who crowded the docks upon spying a white man voluntarily heading into their crumbling capital via the river ferry. Assuming him to be an American, and thus wealthy beyond the dreams of any, the cries for attention and for money, that here was a blanc in the flesh, hit him like a hammer-blow. It was Tayler's first glimpse of what exactly he had chosen for himself, the grinding poverty that he was about to witness first hand, and it shook him up. The author displayed a fair amount of naiveté whilst accustoming himself to the daily ways of life in a struggling Kinshasa before, after a chance encounter, deciding to accept the offer of a Zairean colonel for a protected passage to Kinsangani. Ignoring the disbelieving stares from other whites he had informed of his decision, Tayler set out on the trip, a pallid standout amidst a vast crowd of Zaireans who clung to every available inch of open space on the ancient, puttering vessel that churned its way upstream and through the thoroughly omnipresent, mystical, and, at times, terrifying jungle. During the trip Tayler picked out a man to serve as his guide during his return voyage, but he also discovered a hard truth—the brutality that these people have to endure just to provide enough food, and scratch up enough wealth, to get their families through another day; and the resentment and suspicion with which they regard a comparatively wealthy white foreigner who voluntarily immerses himself within their condition, though he can leave any time he might wish to. Such a person must perforce be either crazy or engaged in illegal activities; and in either case, of a wealth that he can surely spare a few dollars to whomsoever might ask, especially as a couple of dollars in this equatorial nation goes an awfully long way.

Eventually Tayler arrives in Kisangani, where he, his guide, Desi, a capable but somewhat distant Congolese, and a hired (and armed) soldier—the latter taken on when the author realizes both the serious danger of what he is proposing to do, and that he must satisfy certain elements of nepotism and corruption from government officials along the way—board their canoe-like pirogue and set out for the capital. This is a crazy part of the book, the pirogue zigzagging amidst the island-walled channels of the great river, and where they encounter helpful and hostile fishermen, become lost in the maze-like river branchings and streams around the halfway-point where they are pursued by fiercely aggressive locals with rumored cannibal tastes, find the soldier has absconded in the night, and that Desi has become progressively more removed—and angry—over what he perceives to be an unfair bargain struck with his employer. When Tayler becomes sick and rapidly weakens, the sight of that old iron-draped bucket-of-bolts plying the Congo on its return voyage seems like the direct intervention of a God who wanted him to survive his wholly mad and frivolous undertaking.

This was a very good read—I never found myself warming to Tayler, but I appreciated at all times that he presents himself as he believed he was, warts and all. His great fortune was in finding the Colonel—who, despite all of the misgivings and warnings of the fellow whites whom Tayler met in Kinshasha, proved invaluably helpful—aiding and protecting the author in getting out of the capital and then watching over him during his voyage upriver, seemingly quite amused by this madman's riverine compunction and the fact that he was not there to further plunder the Colonel's creaking and devastated homeland. The guide, Desi, was also presented as an intricate fellow, one who continually engaged Tayler in conversations about God, philosophy, marriage, the West, the cultural differences between the latter and his country, and his family—all the while never able to get past his failure to understand why Tayler would willingly subject himself to such hardship and deprivation without an ulterior motive—like diamond smuggling, or gun-running—and, thus, continually pressured within to demand more money and more guarantees from his increasingly worried and flagging employer. I felt that Tayler tried to fairly portray the Zairean people, of a disparate variety of ethnicities and languages, and their unflagging spirit in the face of continuous adversity, even if one never senses that he felt fully at ease around them—the cultural barriers were always there, no matter how intimate the setting. Certainly it was a fascinating and eye-opening read for myself, one of those books in which you can marvel at and absorb the natural wonder and mystery of this amazing place, at the great adventure undertaken, while all the time appreciating even further how lucky and blessed you are to have been born into—and to live in—the part of the world that you do.

[Trish · Rating 3 out of 5]

It's funny, but I actually want to look up other things Jeffrey Tayler has written, to see if he really is as depressed as he seems to be. He planned and took this godforsaken trip (in the 1990's) to the Congo to break a personal downward spiral, and lo! it just got worse. He has the grace to admit it was a very bad idea, but we all have to admit he wouldn't have known that until he tried it. He is brutally frank: "My drama of self-actualization proved obscenely trivial beside the suffering of the Zaireans and the injustices of their past." He never finished the trip--taking a barge up the Congo River to Kisangani and then taking a pirogue down again to Kinshasa--the longest navigable stretch (1,084 miles) recreating a portion of Stanley's historic journey.

This is similiar to the trip taken by British author Tim Butcher (in 2004?) in Blood River. Butcher had Tayler's work to learn from, and acknowledges that earlier attempt, though the scope of his trip was a little different and ten years later. Sadly things seemed only to have gotten more harrowing in the Congo, a country completely ungoverned and lawless. How does man function in such a state? Very badly indeed. I can't imagine what it would take for residents to unlearn the distrust and suspicion that has kept them alive in such a place and actually begin to cooperate with each other to achieve something better.

[Steve · Rating 4 out of 5]

Tayler decides to travel by pirogue down the Congo River from Kisangani to Kinshasa, but realizes that much like Henry Morton Stanley before him (the last person to complete such a journey) he has made the trip for all the wrong reasons. The book serves as a good warning against those who might want to use a third world country as "a playground to satisfy [their] rich boy existential problems".

I picked the book up partly to help me in my desire to demystify the DRC--the huge and persistently puzzling area that dominates the map of Africa, the hub around which the other countries seem to be situated. Tayler's travelogue was thoughtful, self-critical, and politically astute. There is considerable compassion in his writing, which even leads to a sort of self-hate for bringing such wealth into a country of immense poverty. I enjoyed the read, but I'm thinking my interest in the Congo's politics would be better served by finding a good book on its history.

[Diane · Rating 4 out of 5]

Wow! I can't imagine having the guts to take this trip, so I thank Jeffrey Tayler for doing it. Well-written, exciting, scary, everything I like in an adventure-travel book.

[Jess · Rating 2 out of 5]

As a Returned Peace Corps Volunteer myself, I was excited to read another RPCV's journey in Africa. I was, however, disappointed.
Taylor wavers between existential musings and descriptions of his own physical sufferings indiscriminately. He questions why Africans do certain things with absolutely no demonstrated understanding of their history and culture.
He comes across as pretentious throughout, trying to give his journey on the Congo some spiritual meaning, when he doesn't hold any of these beliefs himself, yet he despises the faith of his guide and the work of the missionaries of the past and present who have real purpose, no matter how misguided it may have been. One quote which demonstrates why I dislike this book comes from page 57, "I unzipped the door and inhaled, mosquitoes danced their way inside, I zipped up. I had only my musings in the dark, and I returned to the one truth, the truth of time and finitude: we each see a finite number of dawns and dusks, then it is all over. We fill our days with comforting fictions--with religions and customs, with conventions and goals and hopes and hobbies and plans--that help us pass the time and give us the illusion of achievement and order, but the purpose of these fictions is to hide the Truth. I was about to abandon these fictions, to cast off from their shore." No more mention of this "Truth" is made again.
There was no real resolution. One of his statements at the end sums up what I feel about the entire book, "I had exploited Zaire as a playground on which to solve my own rich-boy existential dilemmas." (pg 249). Exactly. So why write a book about it?

[Amy Moritz · Rating 4 out of 5]

The book recounts the 1995 expedition of former Peace Corps worker Jeffrey Taylor who decides he needs to seek his life's purpose by traveling the Congo in a dugout canoe. I picked up this book upon the recommendation of a friend and as I started it, I was skeptical. Sure the writing was beautiful and his images of then-Zaire, of both the physical and political landscape, were haunting. But did my friend really steer me to a book about another 30-something white male who needed to out on adventure to find himself?

I kept with with the story because at points he hinted at this self-reflexive truth.

I literally cheered out loud when in the final pages of the book, after he had to abandon his journey due to the illness of his guide, he wrote, "I found myself stung by my failure and trying to deny what I would later come to see as obvious: that I had exploited Zaire as a playground on which to solve my own rich-boy existential dilemmas."

And therein lies how this is more than just an adventure travel memoir. It gave me pause to consider the luxury of free time, to consider the suspicion that accompanies a history of violence and exploitation and another lens through which to look at the world. I am lucky in that I do not live hand-to-mouth, that every day is not about the fates of survival, even in a modern American context. I do not have that life experience. But I can cultivate empathy. And perhaps, in fact, being able to cultivate empathy is a luxury of my relative wealth, health and safety.

[Edalma · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book will be definitely terrific.

[Mark Walker · Rating 5 out of 5]

I’m always attracted to any adventure delving into the “heart of darkness” in Africa. And in this case, a book inspired by Conrad’s epic trip in 1890 down the Congo River on a steamer after being appointed by a Belgian trading company. This story came to mind while floating down the Rio Dulce in Guatemala, where the dense tropical forest came up to the river’s edges, and one could hear different languages on shore (mostly Q’eqchí).

But Tayler’s travel adventure is on an entirely different level as he follows the Congo River on a barge for 1,100 of the river’s 2,900 total miles in a country where over 220 languages are spoken. The width of the river ranges from five to seven miles. The barge is steaming with deckhands, merchants, prostitutes, spiritual followers, fishermen, and children.

He was also planning the descent in a native, dugout canoe (pirogue), which hadn’t been attempted since Stanley did it. Henry Morton Stanley coined the term “Dark Continent of Africa” around 1876 as he led an expedition that King Leopold I of Belgium set to “prove that the Congo basin was rich enough to repay exploitation.”

This colonial past explains some of the mistrust of foreigners, especially white foreigners, which Tayler had to deal with. This passage from the Lonely Planet provides an overview of the conditions the author would encounter on his adventure:
Because of the ongoing chaos in Zaire…security is a significant problem throughout the country…Regarding danger, Kinshasa is unrivaled in Central Africa… groups with knives and guns have attacked travelers in broad daylight, so even walking around Kinshasa during the daytime poses serious risk…Foreigners have been dragged at gunpoint from their cars at major intersections and murdered…

And yet the author was undaunted, “The Congo River filled my dreams and flowed through my waking hours, and my expedition took on a fated aspect.” However, these dangers did convince him that before getting in a pirogue, he’d take a barge from Kinshasa upriver to Kisangani. This made perfect sense, considering the river is 15 miles wide at Kinshasa. I’d venture to guess that the author’s experience as a Returned Peace Corps Volunteer bolstered his willingness to enter this journey where lesser travelers would have feared to tread.
The author tells how overwhelmed he was by the abject poverty of Kinshasa:
…But the smoke of burning garbage floated under the palms; the sun was flooding down razor-sharp, bleaching away colors and lending the city the incinerated look of Hiroshima after the blast. Dust, decay, crazed men in uniforms, starvelings, and cripple - it all hit me, and I was nearly broke. I felt nausea rising within me; pity and revulsion, and shock swamped me and kept at bay the fear I had thought I would feel. Although I had expected to see poverty, I had no idea it would upset me so much viscerally…

The real adventure doesn’t begin until halfway through the book, “Alone on the River,” when the author sets out in a pirogue with only one local “guide,” Desi…. As we slipped away from the bank, the bow of our pirogue cut a pale gray V in the Indigo River. Sweat ran down my eyes, soaked through my shirt, and blanched into expanding blotches on the thighs of my cotton trousers.” This is how the 1,100-mile journey down the Congo to Kinshasa would begin.
I empathized with the author based on my own travels upcountry in Sierra Leone, West Africa, when he stopped one evening to rest, “The drums beat on, becoming muffled, and then a chanting began, a haunting dirge, and then there were shouts. It unsettled me, and I switched around in the tent to face the river through my net door. There was no moon, only a blackness filled with drums and chants and the high-voltage buzz of mosquitoes that screamed and whined thick as fog where my breath exited the gauze….”
When they stopped in a city, the author was expected to check in with someone from the country’s secret police, “SNIP.” “In Zaire, most problems that didn’t crawl, bite, sting, or cause dysentery had to do with the police or military.” Tayler says, “The whole Zairean government had devolved into a sham institution, a façade of buildings with brass placards, doors with nameplates, people with titles, and nothing behind them; it builds nothing, performed no services, represented no one. It probably no longer paid the pettifogging SNIP officer sitting in front of me his salary.” Making corruption and bribery a way of life.
Eventually, intrigue with his assistant and a local soldier the author hired for protection for a section where the local population was known to kill any whites who turned up, plus illness took its toll, “Later, after we returned to the hotel, I fell ill in the debilitating heat of the late afternoon. Tormented by nausea, my intestines tightening into knots, I rolled from side to side on the lumpy mattress in my green room, weak and clammy, listening to the lizards crawl up the walls and the parrots squawking outside my window….”
Finally, the author would have to abandon his quest, with 470 miles to go. At this point, this adventure entered what I’d referred to in my latest book, My Saddest Pleasures, those trips which held great expectations, but would fail to the point that all involved were in dire straits. The author’s helper, Desi, distracted him with Christian chants and hymns. His health deteriorated to the point that he might not make it. These are the journeys we remember the most, and they always include a certain level of regret:

I did not know what to say. I felt I was to blame for having undertaken this trip, which now seemed like it could cost the life of this poor fellow, or leave him more debilitated than ever, which would ruin the lives of a dozen other people, given his position of breadwinner for an extended family, in all my preparations I had never imagined that it would be my guide whose health would fail and not my own. But an isolating fear settled like a stone on my heart, isolating because, even in the company of others, we face death alone…

Tayler would come to grips with his guilt in the final paragraph of his epilogue:
The best we can do is exorcise our demons through action, for time will always be short, and there is always much to be learned from living - even when the lessons prove to be deeply painful.

"Tayler is a skilled craftsman who could become a significant new voice in travel literature. Compelling and deeply unsettling reading."-Booklist

The Author
Jeffrey Tayler (Morocco 1988-90; PC/Staff Poland 1992; Uzbekistan 1992-93). He is a PCV writer who never came home but has kept writing. He was the 2001 Best Travel Writing winner for Peace Corps Worldwide. He is the author of such travel books as Siberian Dawn and Facing the Congo and has published numerous articles in The Atlantic, Spin, Harper’s, and Conde´ Nast Traveler.
Tayler lives in Russia and, in the current issue of The Atlantic, has a piece on a remote archipelago of Russia, one of the country’s holiest places, the Spaso-Preobrazhensky Cathedral. It is located on the largest Solovetsky Islands and “amid the gale-lashed White Sea, just outside the Arctic Circle,” Jeff writes. Tayler lives in Moscow, and Solovki is 650 miles away by plane. (And you thought it was a long way to your site!)




The Reviewer
Walker was a Peace Corps Volunteer in Guatemala and spent over forty years helping disadvantaged people in the developing world. His memoir, Different Latitudes: My Life in the Peace Corps and Beyond, his first book, was followed by My Saddest Pleasures: 50 Years on the Road.

He’s a contributing writer for The Authors Show, Revue Magazine, Literary Traveler, and the Wanderlust Journal. His “The Million Mile Walker Review: What We’re Reading and Why” is part of the Arizona Authors Association Newsletter. One of his 28 articles was awarded a “Bronze” by the Solas Literary Award for Best Travel Writing. He founded Million Mile Walker LLC in 2016. His wife and three children were born in Guatemala. He can be found at www.MillionMileWalker.com

[thereadytraveller · Rating 3 out of 5]

Facing an existential dilemma and dissatisfied with his western lifestyle, Tayler attempts to paddle close to 1,800 km down Africa’s second longest river, the Congo.

Tayler’s journey and story, divides itself neatly into two. The first comprises his trip by boat up the Congo and he wonderfully describes the dangers he faces in the Democratic Republic of Congo, both on land and on the river itself. During the second part of his journey by pirogue/dugout down the Congo, Tayler vividly describes the difficulties he faces with his companion Desi, evoking steaming images of the surrounding jungle countryside for which Africa’s heart of darkness is known.

Taking place in 1995, after which Zaire was still recovering from Les Pillages du Zaire and about to enter the First Congo War, that resulted in the overthrow of the despot Mobutu Sese Seko, Tayler’s journey was audacious to say the least and he has presented us with a great adventure story.

[Eriq · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is a fantastic story of a bored author looking for meaning in his life (and something to do with it). He decides he's going to ride the length of the Congo to the mouth of the Atlantic. It's such a great book, and unlike other books, because he doesn't avoid contact with the people in favor of his goal, in fact he needs them to complete his task.
As I read, I began to get a sense of the people of this country and their lives. It's an insight you must experience for yourself.

[Nick · Rating 5 out of 5]

Whoa! Never saw this one coming. What an incredibly well-written book! I thought this would be a cheesy copycat of the Heart of Darkness, but this book just seeps with raw feeling and jagged description of a wild land. I never would have guessed that a journey down the Congo would still be as terrifying as on the movie screen or what I read about back in high school. I recommend this to any thrill-seekers and world wanderers! ~NR

[Sasha · Rating 3 out of 5]

What is it with modern travelogues by people who don't accomplish their missions? This was like the third book like this that I read this year. Okay, sure, Tayler's mission to paddle down the incredibly dangerous and volatile Congo was stupid in the first place, but still. Do it or don't, you pansy.

[Connie · Rating 5 out of 5]

I could not put this book down. I love Africa, but this is a journey I will never take. Being an armchair traveler is ok sometimes. The River Congo was and still is one of the last "outposts" in the world. Jeffery Taylor is either brave or crazy, but his account and observations made for a very entertaining read!

[Benny · Rating 4 out of 5]

I liked this book not because it gives great insight into the Congo (which it doesn't), I liked it for the naivety of its author, like a little boy looking at a map, studying then borders and rivers and then embarking on a crazy journey to try and follow one of those lines on the map.

[Jason Pyrz · Rating 4 out of 5]

Thankfully the entire book was as thick with the syrupy description overkill as the first few paragraphs - that's important to lay out if you are the type who reads the first page or two before you decide to buy.

This is the second book on the Congo I've read in the past year (third, if you count Hear of Darkness as a book about the Congo, but I wouldn't wish that book on anyone). The first being Blood River by Tim Butcher. Both are fairly similar in that they are about a white guy trying to make it down the Congo in one piece. Wheras Facing the Congo is about Tayler trying to make if the entire stretch of the main navigable portion of the river (about a thousand or so miles), Blood river is about recreating Stanley's entire journey.

Both Blood River and Facing the Congo are very good books, and I'd recommend them both. I would, given what I know now, however, start with Facing the Congo, as Blood River takes place in the decade after Tayler's journey. If you think that reading two books about the same trip is overkill, in this instance it is not. Butcher's writing is much more focused on history and politics, with a liberal sprinkling of your typical Theroux-style travelogue. Tayler, in this book, is far-less focused on the history and politics of the region, and focuses almost exclusively on his immediate observations, so you get a much brighter view of the place - albeit a much shallower one because it leaves out the background.

One more way in which Facing the Congo is more like Theroux's travel writing, is that it's hard to like him as a person. He's not as gruff as Theroux, but there's still an air about him that is hard to call warm and fuzzy. Try to picture, if you can, a melancholy ex-peace-corps volunteer and struggling author who lives in Russia with his Russian girlfriend and is so depressed and searching for meaning in his life that he decides to jet off to the Congo to find that meaning. The cynic in me sees through that and thinks that the only thing he's really looking for is a great story with which to write a good book once he's finished (which it does). Thankfully, there aren't that many places where you have to deal with Tayler's woe-is-me attitude, and they really don't detract that much from the overall story.

[Christopher Walker · Rating 5 out of 5]

In 2010 I found myself, for three days, in the Democratic Republic of the Congo. I was travelling down the West African coast with Oasis Overland, and we had been diverted through Brazzaville and Kinshasa as a result of a terrorist attack during the African Cup of Nations that year. Three days - and that was a struggle for me. The air in the capital felt heavy with subdued anger and violence. I was never at ease, and beyond that I was also ill, probably with dengue fever or malaria, there was no way to tell for sure since there were no doctors we could visit. Though I was glad to escape the country as quickly as we did, I look back now with regret tinged golden with nostalgia - I wish I had seen more, been conscious of more, and recorded more in my notebook.

A little over a decade prior to my visit, Jeffrey Tayler was in the DRC, or Zaire as it was then known. Like me, Mr Tayler was just into his thirties and was going through something of a crisis. He left Russia, the country he had almost settled in, as I had left Poland; he wanted to challenge himself, to see what his life was and what it meant, and for that challenge, like I would later do, he turned to Africa.

'Facing the Congo' is the story of Mr Tayler's experience in Zaire. He travelled by barge up the Congo from Kinshasa to Kisangani, from where he wished to navigate back to the capital aboard a pirogue. The journey was fraught with peril, and ends much like Geoffrey Moorhouse's classic 'The Fearful Void,' with the adventurer realising that the challenge is an insurmountable one.

[James Frase-White · Rating 3 out of 5]

This is a hard book to categorize. It is interesting, but to say it is enjoyable would be far off the mark. Tayler's compassionate personality, and his desire to accommodate both the physical and spiritual psyches of the people he meets is admirable. Jeffery Tayler, an American, who lives in Moscow, has an inquisitive nature that led him to work for the Peace Corps, and in this book, to paddle the Congo River following Stanley's historic journey. He does so, but any visions that the reader hopes for of a description of nature and geography of the river is stymied by the overwhelming nature of humans. Vistas of a the vast jungle, of creatures we know from African lure takes back seat to the foibles and fears and hopes of humankind. A most interesting journey, captivating in a way I did not expect.

[Jed Leishman · Rating 5 out of 5]

A story about a man who is unsatisfied with his comfortable life in Moscow and so attempts to pirogue down the length of the Congo River. A very exciting tale which ends with some very thought provoking quotes from the author.

"I had exploited Zaire as a playground on which to solve my own rich boy existential dilemmas."

"I had pictured its wilderness as a bourn where I could rejuvenate myself through suffering and achievement and the conquest of my own fear. But my drama of self actualization proved obscenely trivial beside the suffering of the Zaireans and the injustices of their past."

"Yet my endeavour taught me something positive: to value what I have and strive to preserve it."

"There is much to be learned from living - even when the lessons prove to be deeply painful."

[Mitch · Rating 1 out of 5]

The one-star review is not because of the writer's style. It is because of the foolish, dangerous nature of the whole idea for this river trip in the first place.

And Zaire/Congo comes off looking REALLY awful for a large number of reasons. It's doubtful anyone reading this book would ever want to go there.

I for one am glad he chose, spoiler alert, to discontinue the trip- this also meant I could discontinue reading more about mosquitos, locals with machetes with their hands out for free money, nausea, debilitating heat, rats, pointed guns, biting flies, blustering officials who have to be cowed into backing off, etc.

I picked up this book to read figuring it covered a trip I'd never take. I certainly had that confirmed. What a nightmare.

[KJ · Rating 4 out of 5]

I honestly hate books like this. I find the arrogance of attempting a dangerous, useless stunt in a war-torn country just mind-boggling. I am glad that, in the end, Tayler recognizes his own naïveté and expresses regret over his previous view of the Congo as his "playground." Tayler not only recognizes the flaws in his worldview, he also presents a sympathetic but realistic view of the Congo, from intercultural misunderstandings to horrific suffering. He is certainly a talented writer and the picture he paints of old Zaire is colorful and majestic. Also, I love giving a good shout-out to a fellow RPCV.

[Fayette · Rating 5 out of 5]

I have read many books about people, mostly men, making difficult journeys. I almost always ask, WHY? This might be the first book where the author admits: “I had exploited Zaire as a playground on which to solve my own rich-boy existential dilemmas.” “But my drama of self-actualization proved obscenely trivial beside the suffering of the Zaireans and the injustices of their past.” —I appreciate this honesty.

I spent a year in Zaire in ‘82-‘83, a relatively calm time in the country. I have no doubt whatsoever that this account was accurate. The author himself uses words like “insane” to describe this journey and I have to agree. He is fortunate to have survived.

[Collin Groat · Rating 5 out of 5]

This was a fantastic book with a gripping story. I see a lot of my own aspirations for adventure in this book and while most of it drives my desire to go on a journey like this, ultimately it reminds me why I shouldn’t. The boundaries between dreams and reality can sometimes be muddied but reality often reminds us who is in charge. Jeff is an absolute wordsmith and keeps the reader engaged by painting an incredible picture on every page. I stumbled upon this book in a used bookstore and grabbed it for $1 because I’ve always been interested in the Congo. It quickly became one of my favorite books and I wish it never ended.

[David Parker · Rating 5 out of 5]

I enjoyed the book because Tayler’s exploits reminds me of myself when I was thirty, in Brazil, and trying to get to Belem at the mouth of the Amazon from São Paulo.
I’m from Wisconsin so I can understand his conflict after living in Russia. As while as the cultural differences.
Ah! To be young strong and stupid.

[Robert Phillips · Rating 4 out of 5]

Fascinating and terrifying tale of river travel through 1000 miles of dangerous tribal areas
. Taylor’s accounts of river trade and interactions w numerous tribal groups were page turners. Ultimately, he and the reader understood how self indulgent his journey was.

[Dave · Rating 4 out of 5]

A very interesting story in a very interesting place. I can't say the second half of the book was as good as the first but It is a true tale of adventure, and those should never be taken lightly.

[Ellie Levine · Rating 5 out of 5]

Sad commentary on the effects of Colonialism.

[Pete · Rating 5 out of 5]

I read this book before I went to Republic of Congo in 2010 (Not DRC which is what the majority of the book is about).

[Avi · Rating 5 out of 5]

Fascinating

[Kaspars · Rating 5 out of 5]

Well written book about a tough adventure in Congo

[Joelle Lewis · Rating 1 out of 5]

I tried, but within the first 20 pages, the overwhelming white privilege made me realize it wasn't worth it.