WEDNESDAY
Dodging puddles and mud and a pack of dogs on the airstrip, Angie and Kristine, a nutrition worker with Medair, and I had an enjoyable run in the cool air, which lasted all day. We're all praying it stays dry so that materials for ASAH and for JDF clinic will get through. One transport truck full of aggregate got stuck on the road on the way here from Bor. That truck is also supposed to get sand for us and retrieve our short poles from the bush.
Worse, there's a group of gunshot victims holed up in the school. Apparently there have been two attacks in Duk County in Pajut and in Pagalong. One on June 16 where the village was attacked by Murle tribesmen armed with automatic rifles; two women killed, eight children kidnapped, and other wounded victims. The second group who are now here, were injured the 22nd and brought to the Lost Boys Clinic on Sunday night. Yesterday, a UN helicopter, which we all thought was coming to pick them up, touched down on the landing strip and lifted off again. No one knows why. The strip was a little wet in places, but the soil is sandy here—and it's a helicopter. Maybe they didn't want to get their boots dirty.
Anyhow, the clinic isn't staffed or equipped to care for injuries like this. There are wounds of all kinds including fractures—many requiring surgery. All the nurses here can provide are painkillers, wound dressings and makeshift splints of cardboard. The men are laying on pieces of cloth on the concrete floor of two classrooms. I think there are 26 of them, and 17 are seriously injured. No one came for them today, either.
Angie and I went to the school to observe a couple of classes. The teachers here were receptive to her visiting. She will meet with them another day to offer some feedback and share some teaching methods. Few teachers have had more than introductory courses in teaching.
After school, Dau came by and we went over the list of orphans to determine which girls we would visit today. We selected four and set about tramping across paths both wet and dry and steering clear of thorn bush fences as we entered the yards. One of the girls was away fetching wood, but we spoke to her guardian, who is unsure whether she will let the girl come. In some cases, the girl provides needed labor for an elderly widow who might have a hard time getting along without her.
At three others we met the girls, but the guardian was away planting or cultivating. Our plan is to make home visits to all ten homes, then to invite the girls and guardians to meet with us at the school or the clinic compound, since our location is not yet ready for visitors.
Showing posts with label Sudan. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Sudan. Show all posts
Friday, July 1, 2011
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
Laundry and Church
Saturday
Saturday is more relaxed at the JDF compound. The clinic opens if patients come with emergencies, but the staff have time to do laundry, relax, socialize and read. I did my laundry in a bucket alongside a couple of the male staff, who laughed because I wasn't getting suds the way they were. I told them I'm used to washing my laundry in a machine, which they thought was very funny. I got through it, rinsed them and hung them to dry. In the past, I've not been able to do it myself here because Mary, one of the cooks, always stopped me and washed them for me. But Mary is on holiday. However, Angie started to wash her clothes and one of the cooks took it from her. Angie marveled at the suds generated, and that the woman got the grimy necklines clean.
Sunday
We meant to go to church at nine and then visit with the women church leaders at 10. The service starts at eight, but the two-hour service is all in Dinka, so except for the drumming and the singing, it can feel a bit long. Angie was up talking to Mike, the JDF project manager, until about 1 am, so she slept in. I went for a run and showered. Then the Internet came on. We got there before ten and were mobbed by kids wanting their picture taken outside the church which we obliged for a while. Then we went in and the entourage followed. We were creating quite a stir in the back with the kids all chattering. The service was wrapping up so we retreated with the group of kids following and waited outside for the women.
I've met most of them before and know some of their names. Tabeesa, the matron who lives on our compound was married to a bishop, now deceased, and is a powerful woman in the church. John Dau's (JDF Foundation) mother and stepmother are part of the group as well. At least three of them are named Deborah (pronounced with the accent on "bor"), and they love it when I tell them my name is Debora Agot. I introduce Angie as Angela because it is much easier for the Sudanese to understand.
The women are so happy we're helping orphan girls. There are so many orphans here. Virtually all of them are widows. Most of them are caring for at least one orphan. They told us that when they were young, no girls received education and they didn't know there was any value in educating girls. They thought the only value for girls was to fetch water and firewood and cook and care for the children. But now they have seen the benefits for young women who are educated. They have more skills to help their families, to earn income, and to have more choices in their lives. These women want education for the girls in the village, and they think our program will set an example and encourage others to send their girls to school as well.
Saturday is more relaxed at the JDF compound. The clinic opens if patients come with emergencies, but the staff have time to do laundry, relax, socialize and read. I did my laundry in a bucket alongside a couple of the male staff, who laughed because I wasn't getting suds the way they were. I told them I'm used to washing my laundry in a machine, which they thought was very funny. I got through it, rinsed them and hung them to dry. In the past, I've not been able to do it myself here because Mary, one of the cooks, always stopped me and washed them for me. But Mary is on holiday. However, Angie started to wash her clothes and one of the cooks took it from her. Angie marveled at the suds generated, and that the woman got the grimy necklines clean.
Sunday
We meant to go to church at nine and then visit with the women church leaders at 10. The service starts at eight, but the two-hour service is all in Dinka, so except for the drumming and the singing, it can feel a bit long. Angie was up talking to Mike, the JDF project manager, until about 1 am, so she slept in. I went for a run and showered. Then the Internet came on. We got there before ten and were mobbed by kids wanting their picture taken outside the church which we obliged for a while. Then we went in and the entourage followed. We were creating quite a stir in the back with the kids all chattering. The service was wrapping up so we retreated with the group of kids following and waited outside for the women.
I've met most of them before and know some of their names. Tabeesa, the matron who lives on our compound was married to a bishop, now deceased, and is a powerful woman in the church. John Dau's (JDF Foundation) mother and stepmother are part of the group as well. At least three of them are named Deborah (pronounced with the accent on "bor"), and they love it when I tell them my name is Debora Agot. I introduce Angie as Angela because it is much easier for the Sudanese to understand.
The women are so happy we're helping orphan girls. There are so many orphans here. Virtually all of them are widows. Most of them are caring for at least one orphan. They told us that when they were young, no girls received education and they didn't know there was any value in educating girls. They thought the only value for girls was to fetch water and firewood and cook and care for the children. But now they have seen the benefits for young women who are educated. They have more skills to help their families, to earn income, and to have more choices in their lives. These women want education for the girls in the village, and they think our program will set an example and encourage others to send their girls to school as well.
Monday, June 27, 2011
Our First Rain
Thursday, June 24
Happy Birthday to my granddaughter, Isabelle, who is in the US.
Yesterday our first rain fell as we began our second day of inventory at the school. When it started to sprinkle, Angie headed back to close up our tent (we'd left the windows uncovered) and to retrieve our raincoats and umbrellas. It rained for several hours, and we headed home in a downpour. Halfway there, the IRD car came down the road and gave us lift the rest of the way.
We mopped up the water that had run under the beds and separated wet items from dry. We flipped Angie's foam mattress, which had soaked up some water, since she didn't yet have a bed frame. Then we spent some hours in the tent reading, catching up on email correspondence, and planning our next moves while the rain pelted the rain cover above our tent.
Happy Birthday to my granddaughter, Isabelle, who is in the US.
Yesterday our first rain fell as we began our second day of inventory at the school. When it started to sprinkle, Angie headed back to close up our tent (we'd left the windows uncovered) and to retrieve our raincoats and umbrellas. It rained for several hours, and we headed home in a downpour. Halfway there, the IRD car came down the road and gave us lift the rest of the way.
We mopped up the water that had run under the beds and separated wet items from dry. We flipped Angie's foam mattress, which had soaked up some water, since she didn't yet have a bed frame. Then we spent some hours in the tent reading, catching up on email correspondence, and planning our next moves while the rain pelted the rain cover above our tent.
Saturday, June 25, 2011
Arrival in Duk
June 21
Our chartered AIM Air flight allowed for 1000 kg of cargo and passengers. We filled it to the max with our cargo, Joseph, Angie, myself, and Boniface, a Kenyan Internet serviceman flying to Duk to repair International Relief Development's (IRD) dish misalignment.
Our flight was delayed which allowed us to savor some African tea (heavy on the milk and sugar) and samosas at Wilson Airport, and to chat with a gentleman preparing to leave for South Sudan on a huge (in comparison to ours) Samaritan's Purse plane.
We stopped in Lokichoggio to drop off an AIM staff member and refuel, then to Bor, the capitol of Jonglei State, South Sudan, to drop Joseph. As we approached Duk Payuel our pilot agreed to circle our building site so that I could shoot some aerial photos, though he warned that if the large birds (I don't know what they're called, but they're huge) that make Duk home were soaring overhead, he would have to abort.
The John Dau Foundation (JDF) Lost Boys Clinic staff awaited us with a car along the airstrip, and IRD (International Relief Development) staff were there with a car to pick up Boniface. When I landed last fall, car travel wasn't possible due to the flooding, so all my cargo had to be carried on the heads of women or the shoulders of men and boys. (The position of the burden is cultural.) It took several round trips to ferry the cargo to storage at the school. The community and our other NGO partners, JDF and IRD help us out, which makes working in this difficult environment easier and more pleasant.
Our chartered AIM Air flight allowed for 1000 kg of cargo and passengers. We filled it to the max with our cargo, Joseph, Angie, myself, and Boniface, a Kenyan Internet serviceman flying to Duk to repair International Relief Development's (IRD) dish misalignment.
Our flight was delayed which allowed us to savor some African tea (heavy on the milk and sugar) and samosas at Wilson Airport, and to chat with a gentleman preparing to leave for South Sudan on a huge (in comparison to ours) Samaritan's Purse plane.
We stopped in Lokichoggio to drop off an AIM staff member and refuel, then to Bor, the capitol of Jonglei State, South Sudan, to drop Joseph. As we approached Duk Payuel our pilot agreed to circle our building site so that I could shoot some aerial photos, though he warned that if the large birds (I don't know what they're called, but they're huge) that make Duk home were soaring overhead, he would have to abort.
The John Dau Foundation (JDF) Lost Boys Clinic staff awaited us with a car along the airstrip, and IRD (International Relief Development) staff were there with a car to pick up Boniface. When I landed last fall, car travel wasn't possible due to the flooding, so all my cargo had to be carried on the heads of women or the shoulders of men and boys. (The position of the burden is cultural.) It took several round trips to ferry the cargo to storage at the school. The community and our other NGO partners, JDF and IRD help us out, which makes working in this difficult environment easier and more pleasant.
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
Last Day in Duk
A light rain contributed to a pleasing 80 degree morning—though the temp crept into the 90s by mid-afternoon. Still not as brutal as the 100 degree days we have been suffering.
It's our last day here. Tomorrow around noon, AIM Air will pick Jef and me up on the Duk airstrip. Likely the John Dau Foundation car will carry us and our bags to the strip. When I arrived and departed last November, young men and women carried my bags on their heads through knee deep water because of the over-long and heavy rainy season. It sounds like Fargo will escape a devastating flood this year, however, and we will return in time to see the crest.
The past few days have been exciting for us and for our board back in the United States. This project has been a dream and is now becoming reality. Some members of our work crew went to the bush to cut down branches for interior support of the tukul walls as others dug foundation holes. Now all six tukuls are underway, the uprights in place, and work has begun on the braces for the roofs. Somewhere, thatch is being gathered or purchased, and Joseph Akol Makeer is in Juba purchasing materials for tukul roofing, latrines, showers, water tower and fencing.
It's too dry here to gather mud, so they'll send a truck closer to the Nile where the land is wetter. A month or two from now when the rains begin, there'll be plenty of mud here, but construction will be more difficult. We hope to have all construction finished within the next month.
This morning Jef spent time onsite videotaping and reworking his overall plan in his mind. I rode along with IRD and JDF staff to a health services coordination meeting in Mareng, where the County Commissioner is located. We had hoped to visit him last week, but he was in Bor. He was out yesterday and today as well, but I was able to visit with the Executive Director of the commission office. The health meeting was interesting. Various NGO groups, each with their own missions and funding, are trying to coordinate their efforts to avoid duplicating services in areas that are currently being served and to extend services to areas that are underserved, or not receiving any services at all.
It's our last day here. Tomorrow around noon, AIM Air will pick Jef and me up on the Duk airstrip. Likely the John Dau Foundation car will carry us and our bags to the strip. When I arrived and departed last November, young men and women carried my bags on their heads through knee deep water because of the over-long and heavy rainy season. It sounds like Fargo will escape a devastating flood this year, however, and we will return in time to see the crest.
The past few days have been exciting for us and for our board back in the United States. This project has been a dream and is now becoming reality. Some members of our work crew went to the bush to cut down branches for interior support of the tukul walls as others dug foundation holes. Now all six tukuls are underway, the uprights in place, and work has begun on the braces for the roofs. Somewhere, thatch is being gathered or purchased, and Joseph Akol Makeer is in Juba purchasing materials for tukul roofing, latrines, showers, water tower and fencing.
It's too dry here to gather mud, so they'll send a truck closer to the Nile where the land is wetter. A month or two from now when the rains begin, there'll be plenty of mud here, but construction will be more difficult. We hope to have all construction finished within the next month.
This morning Jef spent time onsite videotaping and reworking his overall plan in his mind. I rode along with IRD and JDF staff to a health services coordination meeting in Mareng, where the County Commissioner is located. We had hoped to visit him last week, but he was in Bor. He was out yesterday and today as well, but I was able to visit with the Executive Director of the commission office. The health meeting was interesting. Various NGO groups, each with their own missions and funding, are trying to coordinate their efforts to avoid duplicating services in areas that are currently being served and to extend services to areas that are underserved, or not receiving any services at all.
Thursday, March 31, 2011
External Hard Drive Dies--March 31
It was probably the ants. Two days ago, I was loading photos onto the external drive that stores my photo catalog with Daniel, my 15-year-old guide, translator, assistant. Dozens of tiny ants streamed out of it and onto my lap. I'm guessing the heat generated when I plugged it in may have upset them, or attracted them. They kept coming, so I sprayed the outside with bug spray, which killed them, only to have dozens more join the death march. Eventually they stopped coming out. I loaded the photos. Everything seemed fine, but yesterday when I plugged in the drive, my computer couldn't see it. I'm afraid their tiny little bodies may have gummed up the works. I've saved all the memory cards, so I won't lose those, but the same drive is also my hard backup. Let's hope my online backup system, which last did its job March 20, has the rest of my data--and photos from last November. The regular backup time doesn't match our Internet hours, so I better start doing it manually. I left the drive with Sammy, the tech guy here. He can fix anything from cars to plumbing to satellite dishes and has background in computers, too. It may be another day or so before I post more Facebook pics.
We have to feed the crew. The first day they worked until lunchtime, and I gave the supervisor money to buy lunch in town, at the hotel. The proprietor's name is Alice. I haven't been inside, but it consists of a few tukuls, a shower with a neck-high privacy wall of thatching materials, and buckets of water for washing. But there wasn't any food for the crew there or anywhere. So late yesterday afternoon, Sammy drove, me, Daniel, and Dau, our supervisor, to Poktop, the village on the ill-conceived canal dug to divert the Nile to bring water to the parched North. It now exacerbates the flooding in this area. Carcasses of abandoned cranes are part of the landscape there, the trees beginning to eclipse them. There's a market with a wide center aisle to accommodate trucks and people. But to find all you want, it's necessary to make several stops. The prices, however, are fair and don't adjust up when there's a white woman in the group, as happens with street vendors in Kenya.
We bought food to feed 20 people lunch for a month, the expected length of the construction time. Beans, rice, sugar, seasonings, onions, tea leaves, plates, spoons, cups, serving dishes and spoons, thermoses, wash basins, and buckets. About $500. Also, the exchange rate in Poktop--no banks there, just guys with money--is 300 SP/$100 instead of 280 in Juba, so we got more for our money.
We have to feed the crew. The first day they worked until lunchtime, and I gave the supervisor money to buy lunch in town, at the hotel. The proprietor's name is Alice. I haven't been inside, but it consists of a few tukuls, a shower with a neck-high privacy wall of thatching materials, and buckets of water for washing. But there wasn't any food for the crew there or anywhere. So late yesterday afternoon, Sammy drove, me, Daniel, and Dau, our supervisor, to Poktop, the village on the ill-conceived canal dug to divert the Nile to bring water to the parched North. It now exacerbates the flooding in this area. Carcasses of abandoned cranes are part of the landscape there, the trees beginning to eclipse them. There's a market with a wide center aisle to accommodate trucks and people. But to find all you want, it's necessary to make several stops. The prices, however, are fair and don't adjust up when there's a white woman in the group, as happens with street vendors in Kenya.
We bought food to feed 20 people lunch for a month, the expected length of the construction time. Beans, rice, sugar, seasonings, onions, tea leaves, plates, spoons, cups, serving dishes and spoons, thermoses, wash basins, and buckets. About $500. Also, the exchange rate in Poktop--no banks there, just guys with money--is 300 SP/$100 instead of 280 in Juba, so we got more for our money.
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
Clearing the Land
I am writing this on my IPad connected to Internet in the office of IRD, International Relief Development, which is adjacent to our site. How fortunate Jef and I are to have these amazing tools and also these wonderful partners on the ground.
Jef spent time this morning with Gache, the IRD engineer, figuring out the fencing materials list. I just sent it off to Joseph to add to our list from yesterday with materials needed for the tukuls. We expect he will bring all the materials from Juba along with our dome on Friday. He works in both Juba and Bor, which is closer to us, but higher prices. He is partner with an architect and builder in a construction firm in Bor so we expect he will get us good prices.
Jef is on the site now. There are about ten workers plus supervisors clearing and burning brush, taking out stumps, and preparing for fencing. We have to feed them as part of our contract. Later today I will see if the JDF car can take me to Panyagor, about 2 hours from here, to buy beans, rice, sugar, tea leaves, plates, spoons, cups, thermoses, and hot pots, and we will pay two cooks to feed them. All labor payments are made at the end of The job.
The job is to build 3 large rectangular tukuls, 14 by 20, to house five girls each in two of them. The other is for an office/store. We will build three round tukuls for two staff and for security guard.
The guys that go to the bush to cut down the thatching and branches for tukul walls are paid 800 SDP for the job, which includes the building. That's around $300. The exchange is 2.8 SDP/ $1.There are nine plus supervisor paid 1000 SDP. The workers who are working clearing brush and digger, here on site each get 400 SDP. Of course there will be the latrines, showers, etc. to build as well. Fence building is included in the above.
Yesterday, Jef and I spent nearly fiven hours mostly being quiet while others worked our a land dispute in Dinka. Three hours were spent in the County administrator's office. The most interesting part were the many bats flying around inside and then dangling above our heads. Fortunately, the bats didn't bother anyone, even the chief whose legs they flew between didn't seem to notice, and the administrator is one of our supporters, as it was in his office last November, that the chiefs gave ASAH the land. But last month, a Paramount chief (head) had given the land to Colorado Lost Boy group and they built a visitor's compound on part of our site. Then some representatives came and said they were given the entire site. Apparently that wasn't actually the case. In any case, all parties were satisfied.
There are many be advantages to our program to be in this area. It is close to the school and is adjacent to IRD and Mama Jean's compound. This provides security. There are other larger sites, but they are quite far away and would be harder to protect. Also in this location we can run pipes from IRD's well, and also electricity. This will save us lots of money which can be used toward getting more children in our program.
I apologize for typos in this and other blog posts. Internet access can be unpredictable, and there is little Romeo our busy day for editing.
Jef spent time this morning with Gache, the IRD engineer, figuring out the fencing materials list. I just sent it off to Joseph to add to our list from yesterday with materials needed for the tukuls. We expect he will bring all the materials from Juba along with our dome on Friday. He works in both Juba and Bor, which is closer to us, but higher prices. He is partner with an architect and builder in a construction firm in Bor so we expect he will get us good prices.
Jef is on the site now. There are about ten workers plus supervisors clearing and burning brush, taking out stumps, and preparing for fencing. We have to feed them as part of our contract. Later today I will see if the JDF car can take me to Panyagor, about 2 hours from here, to buy beans, rice, sugar, tea leaves, plates, spoons, cups, thermoses, and hot pots, and we will pay two cooks to feed them. All labor payments are made at the end of The job.
The job is to build 3 large rectangular tukuls, 14 by 20, to house five girls each in two of them. The other is for an office/store. We will build three round tukuls for two staff and for security guard.
The guys that go to the bush to cut down the thatching and branches for tukul walls are paid 800 SDP for the job, which includes the building. That's around $300. The exchange is 2.8 SDP/ $1.There are nine plus supervisor paid 1000 SDP. The workers who are working clearing brush and digger, here on site each get 400 SDP. Of course there will be the latrines, showers, etc. to build as well. Fence building is included in the above.
Yesterday, Jef and I spent nearly fiven hours mostly being quiet while others worked our a land dispute in Dinka. Three hours were spent in the County administrator's office. The most interesting part were the many bats flying around inside and then dangling above our heads. Fortunately, the bats didn't bother anyone, even the chief whose legs they flew between didn't seem to notice, and the administrator is one of our supporters, as it was in his office last November, that the chiefs gave ASAH the land. But last month, a Paramount chief (head) had given the land to Colorado Lost Boy group and they built a visitor's compound on part of our site. Then some representatives came and said they were given the entire site. Apparently that wasn't actually the case. In any case, all parties were satisfied.
There are many be advantages to our program to be in this area. It is close to the school and is adjacent to IRD and Mama Jean's compound. This provides security. There are other larger sites, but they are quite far away and would be harder to protect. Also in this location we can run pipes from IRD's well, and also electricity. This will save us lots of money which can be used toward getting more children in our program.
I apologize for typos in this and other blog posts. Internet access can be unpredictable, and there is little Romeo our busy day for editing.
Sunday, March 27, 2011
Juba and Bor, Southern Sudan
March 21-24, 2011
On Monday the 21st, we flew to Juba, the capitol of Southern Sudan, without a visa for Jef. A friendly Jetlink agent helped us to find a contact to expedite our visa, only to learn that the only individual who issues visas had been out sick for a week and no one knew when he was expected back. Joseph Akol Makeer arranged for a GOSS representative to meet us at the airport in Juba to help Jef through customs there. My visa was still valid since my November visit.
Joseph, Kenneth Masunga, Jef Foss and I had dinner at the Oasis—a paradise-type restaurant on the Nile specializing in Indian food. Delicious Naan. We stayed at the Olympic hotel for $100 a night—wireless Internet in the rooms, toilet and cold shower, plus breakfast. When Jef and Ron Saeger were here two years ago, they spent $200 a night for a tent with no amenities.
The next morning we left with Joseph for Bor, the capitol of Jonglei State. Joseph is working for GOSS in a public relations and communications arena—a group of about 75 Lost Boys and girls from across Southern Sudan who have returned from the US, Australia, and other countries to help their homeland.
Our goal was to meet with NGOs who might provide aid for our boarding project for orphans in Duk Payuel. Our first visit, to UNHCR, resulted in a tip about an interagency meeting taking place the next morning at the governor's office.
Our hotel in Bor, the Freedom Hotel, offered three meals a day plus slow and sometimes offline Internet in the restaurant—which was always packed with NGO folks and computers. Talking on Skype to my husband, we were interrupted by various groups—he said, "This place must be some kind of NGO heaven."We met a couple guys from Platteville Wisconsin who were hoping to build a school near Bor. Some of the IRD (International Relief Development) team from Duk Payuel were also there, and we made plans to caravan with them to the village the following day.
Wednesday, the 23rd, we stopped at World Food Programme and learned how we might qualify for food aid for our program—which requires fairly permanent buildings and other amenities in place—kitchen, latrines, etc. Each person we met along the way gave us suggestions about what other groups might lend us a hand through aid or guidance of some type.
From there we headed to the inter-agency meeting, only to have the car break down a few "blocks" from a garage. Joseph caught a ride on a passing motorbike and several guys from the garage came to push the car with me steering. We left the car and a garage employee took us to the meeting. We were now 45 minutes late, but being that "This is Africa," the meeting didn't start until the governor, Kuol Manyang, arrived, 15 minutes after we did. There were about 30 people, including us, seated at long tables. Each seat had a mic, a water, and a soda. Joseph sat in the back with other visitors. The meeting lasted about 2 ½ hours with the ministers of each department in the state reporting on everything from health, to education, to cattle raiding, to physical infrastructure, and more. At the end, Joseph stood and introduced Jef and me. I was pleased to be able to tell the group about ASAH and to tell the governor that his daughter and her husband, who live in Fargo, were friends of mine. We made several contacts at this meeting who will be helpful to us in the future.
The day was long, and we made plans to leave for Duk at 7 the next morning in the caravan. But This is Africa. IRD (International Relief Development) had some shopping to do at the market (fresh vegetables, which they treated us to later that evening) and said to meet them on the main street around 9. Somehow, our driver decided NOT to drive to Duk Payuel, so IRD went on alone, and we headed out with Joseph and a new driver later that morning. Gabche, a Kenyan with IRD, gave us one of their SAT phones to carry in case of problems. What kind of problems? Well, in a three hour period on a recently built but still very rough road, we passed a couple of burned out vehicles, stopped to help a stalled vehicle get started, and passed two lorries going our way. That's it. For those of you who know I had cervical disk surgery recently—I held on to the dash handle, wore my soft collar, and sat in the front seat while Jef and Joseph bounced around the bench seats in back of the Land Cruiser. What made the road travel worth every bump were the thousands of antelope—Kob and Topi, we passed on our way, plus ostriches to boot. You can find pics on our Facebook page. http://www.facebook.com/pages/African-Soul-American-Heart/48997754057
Joseph left us off at the Lost Boys Clinic in Duk. We set up a camping tent for Jef near the containers where the ground was smooth. I'm staying in the tent of the project manager, Tom Dannon, tent as he is gone to Juba for procurement with the clinic manager, Joh Deng. Tom has offered to stay in my camping tent upon his return and let me remain in his tent which has actual beds. A true gentleman.
On Monday the 21st, we flew to Juba, the capitol of Southern Sudan, without a visa for Jef. A friendly Jetlink agent helped us to find a contact to expedite our visa, only to learn that the only individual who issues visas had been out sick for a week and no one knew when he was expected back. Joseph Akol Makeer arranged for a GOSS representative to meet us at the airport in Juba to help Jef through customs there. My visa was still valid since my November visit.
Joseph, Kenneth Masunga, Jef Foss and I had dinner at the Oasis—a paradise-type restaurant on the Nile specializing in Indian food. Delicious Naan. We stayed at the Olympic hotel for $100 a night—wireless Internet in the rooms, toilet and cold shower, plus breakfast. When Jef and Ron Saeger were here two years ago, they spent $200 a night for a tent with no amenities.
The next morning we left with Joseph for Bor, the capitol of Jonglei State. Joseph is working for GOSS in a public relations and communications arena—a group of about 75 Lost Boys and girls from across Southern Sudan who have returned from the US, Australia, and other countries to help their homeland.
Our goal was to meet with NGOs who might provide aid for our boarding project for orphans in Duk Payuel. Our first visit, to UNHCR, resulted in a tip about an interagency meeting taking place the next morning at the governor's office.
Our hotel in Bor, the Freedom Hotel, offered three meals a day plus slow and sometimes offline Internet in the restaurant—which was always packed with NGO folks and computers. Talking on Skype to my husband, we were interrupted by various groups—he said, "This place must be some kind of NGO heaven."We met a couple guys from Platteville Wisconsin who were hoping to build a school near Bor. Some of the IRD (International Relief Development) team from Duk Payuel were also there, and we made plans to caravan with them to the village the following day.
Wednesday, the 23rd, we stopped at World Food Programme and learned how we might qualify for food aid for our program—which requires fairly permanent buildings and other amenities in place—kitchen, latrines, etc. Each person we met along the way gave us suggestions about what other groups might lend us a hand through aid or guidance of some type.
From there we headed to the inter-agency meeting, only to have the car break down a few "blocks" from a garage. Joseph caught a ride on a passing motorbike and several guys from the garage came to push the car with me steering. We left the car and a garage employee took us to the meeting. We were now 45 minutes late, but being that "This is Africa," the meeting didn't start until the governor, Kuol Manyang, arrived, 15 minutes after we did. There were about 30 people, including us, seated at long tables. Each seat had a mic, a water, and a soda. Joseph sat in the back with other visitors. The meeting lasted about 2 ½ hours with the ministers of each department in the state reporting on everything from health, to education, to cattle raiding, to physical infrastructure, and more. At the end, Joseph stood and introduced Jef and me. I was pleased to be able to tell the group about ASAH and to tell the governor that his daughter and her husband, who live in Fargo, were friends of mine. We made several contacts at this meeting who will be helpful to us in the future.
The day was long, and we made plans to leave for Duk at 7 the next morning in the caravan. But This is Africa. IRD (International Relief Development) had some shopping to do at the market (fresh vegetables, which they treated us to later that evening) and said to meet them on the main street around 9. Somehow, our driver decided NOT to drive to Duk Payuel, so IRD went on alone, and we headed out with Joseph and a new driver later that morning. Gabche, a Kenyan with IRD, gave us one of their SAT phones to carry in case of problems. What kind of problems? Well, in a three hour period on a recently built but still very rough road, we passed a couple of burned out vehicles, stopped to help a stalled vehicle get started, and passed two lorries going our way. That's it. For those of you who know I had cervical disk surgery recently—I held on to the dash handle, wore my soft collar, and sat in the front seat while Jef and Joseph bounced around the bench seats in back of the Land Cruiser. What made the road travel worth every bump were the thousands of antelope—Kob and Topi, we passed on our way, plus ostriches to boot. You can find pics on our Facebook page. http://www.facebook.com/pages/African-Soul-American-Heart/48997754057
Joseph left us off at the Lost Boys Clinic in Duk. We set up a camping tent for Jef near the containers where the ground was smooth. I'm staying in the tent of the project manager, Tom Dannon, tent as he is gone to Juba for procurement with the clinic manager, Joh Deng. Tom has offered to stay in my camping tent upon his return and let me remain in his tent which has actual beds. A true gentleman.
Sunday, March 20, 2011
2011 Travel to Southern Sudan
I'm in Nairobi. Arrived at Mayfield Guesthouse with Jef Foss, ASAH board member and architect. The trip started out a little rocky at the Fargo airport when I reached in my travel wallet money pouch and handed the agent my passport. She said this, "This isn't a passport." Incredulous, I examined it more closely. It was a small black paper Moleskin journal. It resembled my passport in size and heft, and my yellow fever vaccination certificate stuck out beyond the edges. I couldn't believe it. I'd packed it weeks ago and just that morning, peeked in the wallet to ensure myself of its presence. When Norm asked, "Do you have your passport," I lifted the wallet around my neck and said, "Got it right here!" I had peeked inside earlier and was rewarded with the frayed yellow edges I saw. Frayed because I'd traveled with it last fall.
As I searched through every nook and cranny, Norm helping, Jef remained as calm as the Delta agent who, as have others in the past, allowed us extra free checked bags for our humanitarian work (thanks Delta). Both Jef and the agent were "confident" I'd find it. Then, my memory flashed to the file I keep marked "Travel Africa." I envisioned that faux passport with the yellow edges, saw myself selecting it and putting it in my packing pile without close examination. And searching my brain I found NO recollection of opening the safe in our storage room, the safe where we keep important infrequently-accessed things like passports. So Norm and I raced to the car as I gave thanks that we lived downtown only a short drive from the airport and that I'd told Jef to meet me at the airport a full 2 1/2 hours before flight time--never mind that he was on time and I was late.
What happens if you don't find your passport? You don't leave the country. The fact that I'm writing from Nairobi tells you I found the little book with the replacement yellow fever certificate Cass Public Health had given me last November when I couldn't find mine. Hadn't remembered I had a "Travel Africa" file from the 2007 trip.
We settled into Mayfield Guesthouse after closing hours. The security guard gave us our keys and suggested we whisper so as not to wake the other guests. Mayfield is owned Africa Inland Missions along with AIM Air, who will transport our cargo and pick us up in Bor, Sudan to take us to the village. They cater to missionaries and folks like us doing humanitarian work. The rooms are comfortable and clean, toilets and showers down the hall. Sink in the room. They serve 3 meals with the cost of the room, but you have to tell them if you'll be there to eat. And meals are prompt. When the bell rings, you move to the dining room, take a seat for the family-style service, followed by prayer and comforting homemade food. At breakfast we sat with a family who have been working as missionaries in Kenya for 17 years, their daughter now visiting from college in London. At dinner, we sat with a young woman from Madison, Wisconsin who works as a consultant for the state government, smack dab in the midst of the fiscal brouhaha. She's here for a wedding, so I'm not sure how she learned about Mayfield. There was a young English couple, but I didn't talk with them much because I sat next to an 82-year-old man who was President of World Vision in the 80's. He built the enormous Baptist church near Mayfield and all the buildings around it. And in April returns to the pulpit there for a period. He's a Scot educated at Harvard. As sharp as the cliched tack.
But, before dinner, we had intentions of hopping a flight to Juba, the capital of Southern Sudan. In fact, we'd bought our tickets before we left the airport upon arrival. When we went to check in, they wouldn't let Jef board because he didn't have a Visa. Silly me. I thought it was like to old Southern Sudan where they were almost optional. On my last trip, AIM got me my visa, and originally we were going to fly in with them, but our plans had changed, and I figured we could get the visa on arrival, the way you do in Kenya. The agent rewrote out tickets for Monday and we left.
Before we returned to Mayfield, we stopped at the local hospital because Mumias, the driver I used on my last trip, was feeling ill. Don't worry, he wasn't driving. We all rode with his friend Patrick as the day before our arrival, Mumias was rear-ended so hard his car was pushed into the car in front of him. This is a disaster for a driver, and though insured, the cost to pay the adjuster to survey the damage would equal or exceed the cost to fix the car, which he figures will be about $300, a small fortune. This body work would be thousands in the US, but we visited the car shop and the work is pretty much four guys in white coats with wrenches, crowbars, and paintbrushes.
In the morning, we'll go to Kenya National Bank to try to open an account--they have locations in Southern Sudan as well, but you're advised to count your money yourself in front of the teller before exiting. And we will deposit the cost for the GOSS visa and get a receipt--the airport agent gave Jef a contact name there. Take the receipt to the GOSS office--these are all close to Mayfield--and then return to the airport to fly to Juba. So far we don't have a hotel, but there's a chance Joseph will meet us there, along with Kenneth, Jef's Sudanese friend from Fargo, OR we'll call Jeremy Groce's colleague John who Jef sat next to all the way from Amsterdam to Nairobi. Jeremy is our board member who worked six years in Kenya and Sudan, starting Sudan Radio Services, the first station to broadcast into Southern Sudan after the war. They broadcast 10 different languages.
BTW, Mumias doesn't have malaria, his first fear, or any other bad disease. The doc thinks it may be stress, but there's no rest for the weary. Tomorrow, he has to see if our geodesic dome gets through customs, where it's been held up. Pacific Domes is helping too. It has to get to AIM to travel with the rest of our cargo on the 24th.
I've found these things tend to work out, though not always the way you expect.
As I searched through every nook and cranny, Norm helping, Jef remained as calm as the Delta agent who, as have others in the past, allowed us extra free checked bags for our humanitarian work (thanks Delta). Both Jef and the agent were "confident" I'd find it. Then, my memory flashed to the file I keep marked "Travel Africa." I envisioned that faux passport with the yellow edges, saw myself selecting it and putting it in my packing pile without close examination. And searching my brain I found NO recollection of opening the safe in our storage room, the safe where we keep important infrequently-accessed things like passports. So Norm and I raced to the car as I gave thanks that we lived downtown only a short drive from the airport and that I'd told Jef to meet me at the airport a full 2 1/2 hours before flight time--never mind that he was on time and I was late.
What happens if you don't find your passport? You don't leave the country. The fact that I'm writing from Nairobi tells you I found the little book with the replacement yellow fever certificate Cass Public Health had given me last November when I couldn't find mine. Hadn't remembered I had a "Travel Africa" file from the 2007 trip.
We settled into Mayfield Guesthouse after closing hours. The security guard gave us our keys and suggested we whisper so as not to wake the other guests. Mayfield is owned Africa Inland Missions along with AIM Air, who will transport our cargo and pick us up in Bor, Sudan to take us to the village. They cater to missionaries and folks like us doing humanitarian work. The rooms are comfortable and clean, toilets and showers down the hall. Sink in the room. They serve 3 meals with the cost of the room, but you have to tell them if you'll be there to eat. And meals are prompt. When the bell rings, you move to the dining room, take a seat for the family-style service, followed by prayer and comforting homemade food. At breakfast we sat with a family who have been working as missionaries in Kenya for 17 years, their daughter now visiting from college in London. At dinner, we sat with a young woman from Madison, Wisconsin who works as a consultant for the state government, smack dab in the midst of the fiscal brouhaha. She's here for a wedding, so I'm not sure how she learned about Mayfield. There was a young English couple, but I didn't talk with them much because I sat next to an 82-year-old man who was President of World Vision in the 80's. He built the enormous Baptist church near Mayfield and all the buildings around it. And in April returns to the pulpit there for a period. He's a Scot educated at Harvard. As sharp as the cliched tack.
But, before dinner, we had intentions of hopping a flight to Juba, the capital of Southern Sudan. In fact, we'd bought our tickets before we left the airport upon arrival. When we went to check in, they wouldn't let Jef board because he didn't have a Visa. Silly me. I thought it was like to old Southern Sudan where they were almost optional. On my last trip, AIM got me my visa, and originally we were going to fly in with them, but our plans had changed, and I figured we could get the visa on arrival, the way you do in Kenya. The agent rewrote out tickets for Monday and we left.
Before we returned to Mayfield, we stopped at the local hospital because Mumias, the driver I used on my last trip, was feeling ill. Don't worry, he wasn't driving. We all rode with his friend Patrick as the day before our arrival, Mumias was rear-ended so hard his car was pushed into the car in front of him. This is a disaster for a driver, and though insured, the cost to pay the adjuster to survey the damage would equal or exceed the cost to fix the car, which he figures will be about $300, a small fortune. This body work would be thousands in the US, but we visited the car shop and the work is pretty much four guys in white coats with wrenches, crowbars, and paintbrushes.
In the morning, we'll go to Kenya National Bank to try to open an account--they have locations in Southern Sudan as well, but you're advised to count your money yourself in front of the teller before exiting. And we will deposit the cost for the GOSS visa and get a receipt--the airport agent gave Jef a contact name there. Take the receipt to the GOSS office--these are all close to Mayfield--and then return to the airport to fly to Juba. So far we don't have a hotel, but there's a chance Joseph will meet us there, along with Kenneth, Jef's Sudanese friend from Fargo, OR we'll call Jeremy Groce's colleague John who Jef sat next to all the way from Amsterdam to Nairobi. Jeremy is our board member who worked six years in Kenya and Sudan, starting Sudan Radio Services, the first station to broadcast into Southern Sudan after the war. They broadcast 10 different languages.
BTW, Mumias doesn't have malaria, his first fear, or any other bad disease. The doc thinks it may be stress, but there's no rest for the weary. Tomorrow, he has to see if our geodesic dome gets through customs, where it's been held up. Pacific Domes is helping too. It has to get to AIM to travel with the rest of our cargo on the 24th.
I've found these things tend to work out, though not always the way you expect.
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