Going to Bor and Malek - last posting for a week

August 11 – This will be my last posting until at least a week from now. Aduei and I will finally be going to Bor on a UN helicopter. I cannot take my computer for various reasons – no electricity, no internet and also, there is little food in Bor and Malek and we have to fil our bags with food from Juba. Below are some notes taken over the past week – which all turned out well, but here they are as things were happening:

This morning:

I am in the middle of third world confusion – twelve hours after meeting the president, the police have threatened me with arrest if I don’t pay them some money and all hell has broken out here at the compound.

Since Makuei has been gone in Kenya and out of touch, my passport has made the rounds. As instructed it was given to the police for the proper entry stamp. If you may remember, we were picked up at the border by a vehicle sent by Makuei and they let us through the border without asking for any papers. No one stamped my SPLM card – I have no entry stamp. Makuei gave clear orders that the police take care of this. The following day, I gave my papers to the police and then the mystery begins. The police gave some sort of note to Makuei’s concubine, who has been reeking havoc around here since he left, and she claims to have given them to someone to give to me. I never received them, but Adeui’s sister was given the passport back saying that nothing needed to be done. This morning the police general came and asked for my papers and what was done with them. When I told him that I was told that everything was is in order, he said that I am illegally in the country and that I have to go to the office of immigration and pay a fine and “a lot of money.” If not, I will be arrested in Bor when I get off the plane (which is already booked, a UN charter plane. Now, I look at the ticket that we just got, or travel papers actually and I also notice that they list me as a Sudanese citizen. I couldn’t make this up if I wanted to. It is very dreamlike. Arguments were flying this morning between the concubine and others and I am getting bits and pieces in translation. We are told that we should not argue with the generals because they can just arrest you at will. So we are supposed to go to the maybe corrupt police general’s office, but we have an appointment, ironically, with the President of South Sudan. We met him briefly yesterday and he told us to return today when he had more time. I awoke early, but the ride is not here. I am tired and have not washed in a few days. There is no food here at the house. If Makuei was here, he would have taken care of it all, but as fate had it, I am left in the hands of a possibly corrupt official and a nasty concubine….

Later that day: After waiting for hours and hours, we were led into President Salva Kiir’s office to meet with him for a maximum of ten minutes. It was the persistence of the Queen of Juba (a name that I have given her since she knows everyone in Juba – she is a friend and some sort of relative of Aduei’s sister and is a fairly high ranking SPLA soldier).

I was amazed at what a warm man he is and for the next hour we discussed the politics including how he thinks the people will vote in the referendum, democracy, education, the school, the Sudanese Diaspora, Aduei’s work in the US with the Sudanese living there and more. We talked for over an hour and he is very supportive of the school. We talked language of instruction, curriculum, and he conveyed his strong feelings about education.

Then went to the police general’s office and with a little help from my friends and the mention that it was Makuei’s vehicle which brought me across the border, I left the office with the proper stamp and not having to pay a red shilling. If I had gone alone, it would have cost me a small fortune.

Driving

The Queen of Juba’s driver Katagor (he is very small and the nick name means: small. It is quite interesting that a person with one arm is nick-named “One Arm.” A person with one leg: “Limpy” and they don’t seem to mind. Or so it seems.) was ill and then away for a day and I was asked to be the driver. Not many people have driver’s licenses here and so I accepted the challenge. The cars drive on the right like in the US, but the driver’s seat and steering wheel are also on the right. This means that the clutch in on my left…..and so, I ventured out into the Juban day. The rhythm of driving here is something like: shift, avoid pothole, go slowly through crater, speed up, downshift, honk. I was grateful that there was daylight and it was dry outside. I got used to the dust obstructing my view….but darkness set in and the challenge grew…..before long, torrential rains were pouring down, refiguring the road and the puddles making it impossible to gauge the depths of the holes they were filling………..the SUV I was driving has virtually no shocks to speak of and the driving experience felt more like a video game – dodging through obstacles and not getting destroyed……..

Church – I have gone to church for the first four weeks here since I wanted to respect Adeui’s mother, who is very religious and is a deacon. This week, with her gone, I thought I could sleep in, but that was one of the days that I was the driver. I drove everyone to church, but decided to sleep in the car - not only am I Jewish, but three hour of prayers, preaching, and announcements in Dinka can get quite boring. May I be forgiven for my indiscretions.

Juba

Learning about Juba has given me a new perspective. Here is an except from the CRS: “Juba itself, a former garrison town held tightly by the government of Sudan in the midst of a southern stronghold. Few buildings, except squatters' huts of mud and straw, have gone up since southerners lost the city in the early 1980s. Buildings that are still standing are in critical shape. Some would say the people of Juba are too; cut off from most of the world, they eked out livelihoods on dangerous land, following the dictates of northern soldiers who occupied the town.
Until last year, the landmines ringing Juba presented an inviolable obstacle to entry by road. People and supplies arrived on planes, and prices reflected the airfare. Now, commercial trucks have started coming in, tempted by business interests to take the risk that roads are de-mined enough for passage. Businesses and employees may follow the construction material, food and other commodities that those trucks carry.”

It is amazing that over these past 22 years, nothing has been done. The SPLA occupied this city for under a week in 1992 – I think and the battle was quite fierce. There are bullet holes and burnt out vehicles throughout the city and it is clear that it has just come out of years of neglect. The only bizarre thing is that it is one of the most expensive cities in the world. Hotel rooms which are merely tents are $150/night and food is astronomical.

There were no southerners living here during the northern occupation and they are now trickling back to their homes – or attempting to. This is the capital of New Sudan – South Sudan and all the government ministries are here. For months, the ministers were living in those “hotels” at the government’s expense and now they have occupied the best housing. I do not have time to describe in detail what is happening, but I will just say that I could recognize a government minister even if he was naked. I could simply tell by his weight. Food is a struggle for most people here, but there is no shortage at the special restaurants for the fat cats.

It’s funny, Lori gave me a great novel about the American Civil war called “Killer Angels” and there too, the soldiers complain about the fat cats. I wonder whether every new society needs to have a period of a ruling class. It takes watching another society develop in order for me to begin to reexamine our own history. (just as it took me learning French to understand parts of speech and grammar in English). Growing up, the son of immigrants, I always felt there was a WASP elite that was closed off to me. Fortunately, my parents taught me that it was through education that I would be able to crack that barrier. There is still an old boys’ network, but it has become permeable (though one should look at a great article in the New Yorker by Malcolm Gladwell about Harvard’s admission practices over the years, particularly in respect to the Jews). But then again, I am white and the barriers are minimal compared to the those faced by the students of color that have been my students over the years. We still have a long way to go and are somewhat aware through women’s rights, civil rights, and gays rights movements.

I hear from many young men that if you are not from the right tribe, clan, or family, it is impossible to get a job. There is resentment and anger growing, but this country is only a few years old and hopefully they will learn from our history. At this stage, women, who compose sixty percent of the population have little representation – though they were promised 25% of the seats in Parliament. What are our numbers in America? The rights of the disabled are not yet on their radar and homosexuality cannot be spoken about. It simply does not exist.

Child Soldiers

So may of today’s men in their early twenties have spent their lives as child soldiers and have little or no education. I met a guy who is an artist and a musician and I uploaded a few of his songs from a CD he hopes to make called Child Soldiers. He was on the list to be resettled in the US from the Karkuma Refugee Camp where Aduei was, but his name was sold. He waited, waited, checked every day for years…..and he never got out of Sudan.

The Diaspora

There is much talk of the Diaspora – the Sudanese who have left and gotten educated abroad and their responsibility to return to the South Sudan. I am working with a group of Lost Boys, as well as hoping to bring some of the boys/girls back to teach at the school.

Every day there is another mother and child reunited after years. I witnessed a mother meet her son after not knowing for years whether he was alive or not.

Random notes:

As a driver, I had to drop some one off at Riek Machar’s house in Juba. If you read Emma’s War, you’ll know who he is.

There was some trouble getting food for a few days and I began to understand how easy it is to sit around and do nothing when you are hungry. They seem so used to not eating for days at a time.

Am running out of time to write and will just jot down a few more ideas.

Interesting conversations about buying a woman for cows or getting sex for buying food and beer……they ask: is it so different in America? Don’t you wine and dine your women and expect sex in return……..worth pondering.

Not a rare site to see a barefoot orphan walking the streets at night. ….so many orphans from war and disease……everyone is sick all the time…malaria is so common……and the handshaking continues ……

I must learn to speak Dinka

No one talks about Uncle’s health. Not a very emotional people.

We don’t realize how important refrigeration is – even when there is food to buy, you cannot store very much.

I read the news today oh boy………Dinka still fighting Dinka………More on this at another time….this came up in the discussion with the President today.

Must they embrace speed? – when the internet and roads and modern conveniences come, will they still enjoy quality of life……they should learn from the Italians………..

There are still too many militias with weapons provided by the North……….

Is there a vision? Or will they take what they can get and let the culture develop around it? Is the western way of life too strong a tide to dam.? Can it be regulated and does anyone know how..? everyone wants internet and ipods and lots of mindless tv…….europe had it right…..with regulations about quality…..

Religion and law…….how will they be resolved?

phones have been down for days........no cell service


Must go……….will write in a week or so…….no time to proof – read………I am healthy, losing a bit of weight, on antibiotics, but feeling strong….and young………