March 5, 2012
The plan was: Leave Fargo March 1. Arrive Nairobi late evening March 2. Fly with AIM Air to Duk Payuel on the 3rd. Move into the ASAH Boarding School for Orphan Girls and help orient the first twelve ASAH girls into the place they will call home during the school terms. Stay until the 16th and fly with AIM to Juba, where I will stay for a week with Manyok to procure materials and supplies for our compound, and the Maras and Jef will fly JETLINK to Nairobi.
Soon enough it became clear that if we wanted the ASAH girls to move in while we were present, Manyok and I needed to go NOW to Juba to procure the materials to fix the water tower. If you watched our exciting video of the raising of the tower, you know that I left Duk Payuel expecting that very soon we would have functioning toilets and showers. It was not to be. The steel tube platform on top of the tower had been welded with the four -inch side of the 2 X 4 inch tubes laying flat instead of skinny side up, which offers greater strength. When our tank was filled with water, the tubes began to bend. The tank was taken down. It still provides water but is not at a height to provide water pressure to run the toilets and showers.
As it seems to go, as the need arises, opportunity presents itself. IMA World Health, the new medical group that may or may not take over the neighboring NGO compound now being vacated by IRD, had a car traveling to Bor, the capitol of Jonglei state. This is about 125 miles, I believe, though the drive takes five or more hours. I'm not sure that 125 miles is an accurate measurement, but that is what people have told me, and it seems about right. The road conditions are so bad, the vehicle is sometimes traveling at only 10 or 20 km per hour. This is the kind of ride where the handles above the doors and on the dash are held.
When I asked Mike Wagner, former JDF clinic manager, if we could hitch a ride—he said, "Are you willing to sit in the back?" As it turned out, I shared the middle seat with two men, and Manyok sat with the luggage and a Sudanese woman on the bench seats in the back of the Land Cruiser.
During the long and rough ride, I got to know Kon, one of the clinic staff, a little better. He's a quiet guy amongst a lot of boisterous Sudanese at the JDF clinic, so we hadn't talked much in the past.
My other seatmate, Jacob Nuer Deng, who works for IMA World Health in Juba, asked me where I lived in the US. When I said "Fargo," he said, "My sister lives in Fargo." "Who's your sister?" "Sarah Deng." "I KNOW Sarah," I said. "She spoke at our Get Your Panties in a Bunch Lunch in 2011, and she attends Christ the King Lutheran Church in Moorhead which is currently raising money so that we can bring more girls into our program."
You don't know how small the world really is until you meet someone new in South Sudan whose sister lives in your community in the United States—especially when the community is the size of Fargo-Moorhead. Miriam remarked that it's strangely comforting, and I agree.
We had intended to get hotel rooms and fly in the morning, but Kon was planning to get public transport. He was on his way to visit his wife in Juba. We elected to share the cost of a taxi and keep going.
The road from Bor to Juba is longer—about 153 miles, according to a Google search—but somewhat faster at around four hours. Improved in some stretches, undergoing construction in others, but still potholed and difficult to navigate in places. We had to pull over at a bridge near Juba as a convoy of about 100 military vehicles crossed the one-lane bridge. They were part of a deployment of 150,000 soldiers heading to Jonglei state to begin disarming the tribes, to reduce the tribal violence, particularly between the Murle and the Nuer tribes, that has plagued parts of the state since independence, causing deaths and destruction of villages.
Monday, March 19, 2012
Getting to Duk Payuel
Even though I know I've asked the veteran ASAH folks numerous times what it's like to get to Duk Payuel, South Sudan, I can never remember what they tell me. In fact, I pretty much cannot remember much of anything they have told about their experience (with the exception of some vague do-goodery). Now I know why--it's just so different that there is almost nothing I can do to explain it unless you have gone to a remote location with almost no modern infrastructure.
Getting there seems normal enough, if by "normal," you mean piling into a missionary plane, bumping across national borders, running across a desert tarmac in front of UN planes, and landing on barely-maintained dirt airstrips.
Taking off was easier than flying commercially. We had an early-morning visit to Nairobi's second airport (Wilson), had a security guard look us up and down to see if we looked O.K. ("sawa sawa"), and were then let directly onto the tarmac for boarding. A visit to the duty-free shop (no, we didn't buy or take any of the single-malt scotch choices to the village), the bathroom, and we were ready to strap into the AIM flight over the Kenyan landscape.
Our first stop was Eldoret, a high-altitude airport that seemed more modern than Wilson. We picked up some fuel and chatted a bit with the pilots (who were both the kind of American Evangelical flyboys that I grew up around--pretty much seemed like the prelude to my high school FCA meetings). These two lads let us listen to their music (Christian praise music--though no Rich Mullins, surprisingly), and to their conversations about loving Nicholas Kristof--despite his politics--and George Clooney's impending visit to South Sudan.
Flying over the green Kenyan hills, through the ever-drier landscape into Juba, and over the burned scrub into Duk Payuel gradually sucked my spirits into my gut. "What in the hell am I doing here?" was the question that kept going through my mind. The pilots threatened to not land the plane, as they could not verify that the village was safe. En route, the pilots were able to get through and verify that there was no violence currently in Duk Payuel, and we were cleared to land. As the plane finally lowered onto the rustic airstrip of Duk Payuel, and we emerged into the heat, the feeling only intensified, and I was nearly frantic.
We unloaded the plane, the pilots said their good byes, and the plane rumbled down the same airstrip for immediate departure. As the plane quickly buzzed out of view, Miriam and I thought that this might be the longest two weeks of our lives.
I don't remember anyone ever telling us anything remotely like this, but perhaps we just didn't want to remember
Tuesday, March 13, 2012
Not All Palm Trees Produce Coconuts
March 4
Our site is difficult to see from the air because of the many trees, which provide shade and beautify our compound. I don't know the names of most of them in English, but some are banyon-type trees. Banyons spread by producing long tendrils from branches that root into the ground creating a network of many trees that are all connected. We have tiny-leafed shade trees that produce a mess of leaves swept daily by the cleaners at the compound, we have broad-leafed trees, and we have a number of palm trees. When we acquired the site in November 2012, I was pleased to see coconuts nested in the palm leaves and had looked forward to being here when the coconuts were ready to eat. When the ASAH girls produced one, I was game to try it, but I've seen coconuts with the husk on—the thick covering before the dark brown "wood" we're accustomed to seeing in the grocery store—and this looked nothing like what I expected.
Up close and peeled, this huge fruit was yellow-brown. No white coconut meat inside. I had a taste and was put off by the stringy texture and the taste. I can't now remember to report on it, only that it wasn't pleasant enough to request a second bite. Josh from the clinic told me these are palm nuts and they produce oil, but I haven't been able to find anything on the Internet that matches what I saw.
Our site is difficult to see from the air because of the many trees, which provide shade and beautify our compound. I don't know the names of most of them in English, but some are banyon-type trees. Banyons spread by producing long tendrils from branches that root into the ground creating a network of many trees that are all connected. We have tiny-leafed shade trees that produce a mess of leaves swept daily by the cleaners at the compound, we have broad-leafed trees, and we have a number of palm trees. When we acquired the site in November 2012, I was pleased to see coconuts nested in the palm leaves and had looked forward to being here when the coconuts were ready to eat. When the ASAH girls produced one, I was game to try it, but I've seen coconuts with the husk on—the thick covering before the dark brown "wood" we're accustomed to seeing in the grocery store—and this looked nothing like what I expected.
Up close and peeled, this huge fruit was yellow-brown. No white coconut meat inside. I had a taste and was put off by the stringy texture and the taste. I can't now remember to report on it, only that it wasn't pleasant enough to request a second bite. Josh from the clinic told me these are palm nuts and they produce oil, but I haven't been able to find anything on the Internet that matches what I saw.
Monday, March 12, 2012
Arrival in South Sudan
March 3
With a long day of flights planned for the caravan, we had two pilots. The rules only allow for so many hours of flight time per pilot per day and per week. We waited as the freight crew loaded the plane with our cargo, the fresh fruits and vegetables AIM purchased for ASAH, plus the school uniforms, sweaters, blankets and other supplies that Andrew and Miriam selected for us to carry to the village.
To allow for more cargo, the pilots reduce the fuel load and make additional stops to fuel. We flew two hours from Nairobi to Eldoret, refueled and then flew another 2 ½ hours to Juba. There Jef and I purchased Visas to South Sudan—single entry, one month--$100 each. Miriam and Andrew paid the same price in Nairobi in a process that took three days at the embassy, requiring the visa seeker to leave their passport behind in the process.
The flight from Juba to Duk is only about an hour, and though the pilots kindly circled our site so that we could take some aerial shots and video of our site, giving our people some time to hear the plane and get to the airstrip, we landed to a greeting party of children only. Planes land here often enough these days that it doesn't draw the entire community as it once did, and from our site, the airstrip is a good 20 or 25 minute walk.
Soon, Manyok, our program director, and Dau, our program manager, arrived. Then Akuol, one of our ASAH girls whose extended family lives near the airstrip, came running up and gave me a big hug. Soon, six more ASAH girls arrived in a group.
Our cargo was unloaded—here the pilot has no freight crew to help, so we all pitch in. The pilots had a quick turn around, and we backed off the strip for their take off. Then wondered how to get the cargo to our site. The JDF Lost Boy Clinic vehicle has been out of commission since the rainy season last summer, and the IRD vehicle was away and not expected for a few hours, so our ASAH girls carried our personal bags on their heads to the clinic, and we left the rest behind for a vehicle.
At the clinic, as usual, the cooks treated us to a lunch of beans and rice, enhanced by the delicious chili sauce condiment—though it's a challenge to pour a small amount from the two-liter plastic container.
The baggage-laden ASAH girls accompanied us from the clinic to the ASAH site. I was anxious to see the progress since my last trip here in November/December 2011. The first change was noticeable from afar. Our tukuls, adobe thatched huts, which blend in with the dusty gray of the sandy ground in the dry season, now stand out, painted bright white with a blue base. Our vehicle and pedestrian gates are now attached (painted with the same color scheme) with white globe lights topping the entrance posts. Beyond the tukuls, the toilet and shower block is also blue and white. The building materials that had previously littered the site were now in a neat pile in the background.
On the other side of the compound, I was happy to see our temporary kitchen, built of iron sheet with mesh wire windows. Inside the cooks were already preparing food for our dinner over the concrete wood-burning stove. Jef is here to help design the kitchen and dining hall we badly need before the rainy season in July. We're raising funds for this now.
Manyok assigned one of the large dorm tukuls for Miriam and Andrew to share. Jef and I are each in smaller staff tukuls, and Manyok and Sam Leek, our main teacher, are sharing the tent I stayed in last fall.
As I settled into my tukul, set up my bed and organized my cameras and baggage, the girls pushed open the door and started filing in, sitting on the mattress across from me. I had them go outside and knock and ask, "May I come in?" (The next day, Sam Leek incorporated that bit of polite behavior into his lessons.) The girls are visiting the site daily, but have not moved in as our toilets and showers are not yet functioning. One of our tasks on this visit is to oversee the welding of a new platform for our water tank. The 2" X 4" bars of the first platform were improperly placed with the wide side down, which didn't provide enough strength to hold the weight of the 6000 Liter tank. In the meantime, two temporary iron sheet showers have been constructed. This requires a hose and buckets. We are a three minute walk from the IRD compound, and they are willing to share their bathing and toilet facilities with us kuwajas (foreigners).
The girls in my tent looked at me expectantly. I opened my bag to find some treats to share and came across my package of black licorice, a favorite of mine, but not to everyone's taste. They were suspicious, but each of them accepted a second stick.
Miriam, Andrew and a few of the girls played a rousing game of volleyball. On Facebook, I posted some pics of one of the girls, Akon, playing with Andrew in the background.
Our Internet access is more limited than in the past as I must come to IRD to use it when the generator is on, which is often when we are busy with the girls or eating meals. So my postings will be delayed.
With a long day of flights planned for the caravan, we had two pilots. The rules only allow for so many hours of flight time per pilot per day and per week. We waited as the freight crew loaded the plane with our cargo, the fresh fruits and vegetables AIM purchased for ASAH, plus the school uniforms, sweaters, blankets and other supplies that Andrew and Miriam selected for us to carry to the village.
To allow for more cargo, the pilots reduce the fuel load and make additional stops to fuel. We flew two hours from Nairobi to Eldoret, refueled and then flew another 2 ½ hours to Juba. There Jef and I purchased Visas to South Sudan—single entry, one month--$100 each. Miriam and Andrew paid the same price in Nairobi in a process that took three days at the embassy, requiring the visa seeker to leave their passport behind in the process.
The flight from Juba to Duk is only about an hour, and though the pilots kindly circled our site so that we could take some aerial shots and video of our site, giving our people some time to hear the plane and get to the airstrip, we landed to a greeting party of children only. Planes land here often enough these days that it doesn't draw the entire community as it once did, and from our site, the airstrip is a good 20 or 25 minute walk.
Soon, Manyok, our program director, and Dau, our program manager, arrived. Then Akuol, one of our ASAH girls whose extended family lives near the airstrip, came running up and gave me a big hug. Soon, six more ASAH girls arrived in a group.
Our cargo was unloaded—here the pilot has no freight crew to help, so we all pitch in. The pilots had a quick turn around, and we backed off the strip for their take off. Then wondered how to get the cargo to our site. The JDF Lost Boy Clinic vehicle has been out of commission since the rainy season last summer, and the IRD vehicle was away and not expected for a few hours, so our ASAH girls carried our personal bags on their heads to the clinic, and we left the rest behind for a vehicle.
At the clinic, as usual, the cooks treated us to a lunch of beans and rice, enhanced by the delicious chili sauce condiment—though it's a challenge to pour a small amount from the two-liter plastic container.
The baggage-laden ASAH girls accompanied us from the clinic to the ASAH site. I was anxious to see the progress since my last trip here in November/December 2011. The first change was noticeable from afar. Our tukuls, adobe thatched huts, which blend in with the dusty gray of the sandy ground in the dry season, now stand out, painted bright white with a blue base. Our vehicle and pedestrian gates are now attached (painted with the same color scheme) with white globe lights topping the entrance posts. Beyond the tukuls, the toilet and shower block is also blue and white. The building materials that had previously littered the site were now in a neat pile in the background.
On the other side of the compound, I was happy to see our temporary kitchen, built of iron sheet with mesh wire windows. Inside the cooks were already preparing food for our dinner over the concrete wood-burning stove. Jef is here to help design the kitchen and dining hall we badly need before the rainy season in July. We're raising funds for this now.
Manyok assigned one of the large dorm tukuls for Miriam and Andrew to share. Jef and I are each in smaller staff tukuls, and Manyok and Sam Leek, our main teacher, are sharing the tent I stayed in last fall.
As I settled into my tukul, set up my bed and organized my cameras and baggage, the girls pushed open the door and started filing in, sitting on the mattress across from me. I had them go outside and knock and ask, "May I come in?" (The next day, Sam Leek incorporated that bit of polite behavior into his lessons.) The girls are visiting the site daily, but have not moved in as our toilets and showers are not yet functioning. One of our tasks on this visit is to oversee the welding of a new platform for our water tank. The 2" X 4" bars of the first platform were improperly placed with the wide side down, which didn't provide enough strength to hold the weight of the 6000 Liter tank. In the meantime, two temporary iron sheet showers have been constructed. This requires a hose and buckets. We are a three minute walk from the IRD compound, and they are willing to share their bathing and toilet facilities with us kuwajas (foreigners).
The girls in my tent looked at me expectantly. I opened my bag to find some treats to share and came across my package of black licorice, a favorite of mine, but not to everyone's taste. They were suspicious, but each of them accepted a second stick.
Miriam, Andrew and a few of the girls played a rousing game of volleyball. On Facebook, I posted some pics of one of the girls, Akon, playing with Andrew in the background.
Our Internet access is more limited than in the past as I must come to IRD to use it when the generator is on, which is often when we are busy with the girls or eating meals. So my postings will be delayed.
Sunday, March 11, 2012
The Journey Begins
March 1- 2, 2012
Jef Foss, ASAH board member and architect, and I began our journey to Duk Payuel on March 1st, leaving Fargo on Delta airlines at one pm. Once again, Delta's service proved both charitable and helpful, allowing us to check 15 bags of supplies for the ASAH Home and School for Girls including the panties and washable sanitary pads donated to us at our recent "Get Your Panties in a Bunch" lunch in Fargo. These panties and pads will be distribute through the school in Duk Payuel and to neighboring communities as well.
We flew Fargo to Minneapolis; Minneapolis to Amsterdam; Amsterdam to Nairobi. Nearly 24 hours later with an eight-hour shift in time we arrived at Jomo Kenyatta. At 9 pm local time, we proceeded to immigration for our transit visas—available instantly at the airport, retrieved all 15 bags and headed toward customs at the exit. The agents asked a few questions about the contents and destination of the bags and waived us through.
The driver took us to Mayfield Guest House run by Africa Inland Missions, a mission organization that flies religious and humanitarian groups into remote areas with inadequate or unsafe roads like Duk Payuel, South Sudan. Jef was to share a room with another guest, who was already in bed for the night. We stay at Mayfield on most of our trips through Nairobi, and they are often bustling with missionaries and their families and others working on projects in South Sudan and Kenya. When they are full, they ask if we are willing to share rooms.
At Mayfield I saw Samuel, one of the drivers I met on an earlier trip. Samuel procured Moringa (Olifera) seeds for us to plant at the ASAH Home and School for Girls. The plant has tremendous nutritional and medicinal value. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Moringa_oleifera
From Mayfield, the driver drove me down the street to the Fairview, where Andrew and Miriam Mara, NDSU professors in Nairobi on sabbatical, are staying. Andrew and Miriam sponsor two of our Sudanese students in boarding school in Kenya. They had invited me to stay in the guest bedroom in their apartment. We all rose before dawn to travel to Wilson Airport by 6:30 am for our flight to Duk Payuel.
Jef Foss, ASAH board member and architect, and I began our journey to Duk Payuel on March 1st, leaving Fargo on Delta airlines at one pm. Once again, Delta's service proved both charitable and helpful, allowing us to check 15 bags of supplies for the ASAH Home and School for Girls including the panties and washable sanitary pads donated to us at our recent "Get Your Panties in a Bunch" lunch in Fargo. These panties and pads will be distribute through the school in Duk Payuel and to neighboring communities as well.
We flew Fargo to Minneapolis; Minneapolis to Amsterdam; Amsterdam to Nairobi. Nearly 24 hours later with an eight-hour shift in time we arrived at Jomo Kenyatta. At 9 pm local time, we proceeded to immigration for our transit visas—available instantly at the airport, retrieved all 15 bags and headed toward customs at the exit. The agents asked a few questions about the contents and destination of the bags and waived us through.
The driver took us to Mayfield Guest House run by Africa Inland Missions, a mission organization that flies religious and humanitarian groups into remote areas with inadequate or unsafe roads like Duk Payuel, South Sudan. Jef was to share a room with another guest, who was already in bed for the night. We stay at Mayfield on most of our trips through Nairobi, and they are often bustling with missionaries and their families and others working on projects in South Sudan and Kenya. When they are full, they ask if we are willing to share rooms.
At Mayfield I saw Samuel, one of the drivers I met on an earlier trip. Samuel procured Moringa (Olifera) seeds for us to plant at the ASAH Home and School for Girls. The plant has tremendous nutritional and medicinal value. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Moringa_oleifera
From Mayfield, the driver drove me down the street to the Fairview, where Andrew and Miriam Mara, NDSU professors in Nairobi on sabbatical, are staying. Andrew and Miriam sponsor two of our Sudanese students in boarding school in Kenya. They had invited me to stay in the guest bedroom in their apartment. We all rose before dawn to travel to Wilson Airport by 6:30 am for our flight to Duk Payuel.
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