The Path I Chose

2007-01-15T15:20:00.000+03:00

Back in Nyala after a nice long Christmas break in Kenya. Heading out into the field for awhile on Wednesday.

Just Shot this photo outside our office this afternoon.

2006-12-02T14:46:00.000+03:00

"Only the dead have seen the end of war."

-Aristotle

For Sudanese people, that seems accurate. I can't see an end... there is no visible hope of peace in this country. It is a mind set that I have discovered here that causes conflict. The people seem to want to fight. Even many well educated civilians seem to support the fighting with comments such as "yes, we support Israel as long as they kill Arabs" and "Negro people will not develop into a modern people." This racism is taught. Children here are bred to hate. To hate those who are different and those who their parents hate. Here, anger is an acceptable emotion unlike I have seen in most places. The people see it to be shameful to not wash and pray five times a day but completely acceptable to "do to them what they did to me." Recently I lost my wallet and a man here told me I should announce it on the local radio station so that if someone found it they wouldn't be afraid to turn it in. "Why would they be afraid?" I asked and he replied "because maybe you will think they stole it from you and you will kill them or have them thrown into prison." I was confused and asked him "Why would I do that to someone who helped me by turning in my wallet that they found?" and he said "becasue maybe they will think you didn't know you lost it and you will become angry with a thief and thats what you should do when you become angry." I said, "No I would say 'thank you' and be grateful I got it back, even if the money that was in it was gone." and he said, "No, you can't do that." It is a mind set, and type of thinking that says if you have any reason to believe you were done wrong you now have to right to do others harm. In Sudan, conflict is a way of life, and war is not the opposite of but rather an acceptable alternative to peace.

What's It Like There?

2006-10-22T17:49:00.000+03:00

Since I have been in Darfur many of my friends and family have asked me the question "What's it like there?" Let me just point out that there is a 30 second window for me to answer that question before most people completely lose interest. It isn't their fault for not being interested nor is it mine for being a poor informant but I think it is human nature. If you came from Vermont and we went to school together or met somehow in another place I might ask you that question. I DO care. I just cannot relate and anything that is distant from me such as Vermont is difficult for me to pay attention to for more than thirty seconds. So what is the Darfur Conflict like? Here is my thirty second explanation. It is not like the Rawanda Genocide. It is not like the chaos in Somalia. It is not like Iraq. It is a slow, painful and lengthy choking of the people in a particular region of a country that is nearly one third the size of the US. In Khartoum, the capital of Sudan, you could live relatively normal lives without ever knowing about or even experiencing the direct effects of the fighting here. Nyala, the main town in the Darfur region, is a large city with nearly 2 million people and here we have restaurants, grocery stores and even internet cafes. The suffering however, is not very far from the where I safely sleep at night. Just south of here about 80-100km there are rebel troops fighting for the land that the government is taking from them. Don't get me wrong, the rebels are not necessarily this great freedom fighting force opposing an opressive government. Amoungst all men of any tribe, tongue or nation there are rapists, murderers and thieves. After being here for nearly 5 months now I still cannot clearly understand the conflict but I know that daily people are dying from either direct fights between forces or from the economic and agricultural problems which are a result of the fighting. As one of my collegeues said "this generation is lost...but the next is coming along, trying to grow up and if we can save them then maybe later on in the future there will be a peaceful and prosperous place in what is now a warzone." If we can stop a man from passing his gun along with a his hatred to his son then maybe peace will come.

2006-09-21T23:24:00.000+03:00

Yassin was our destination. We never got there. We were headed down to do an assessment of education needs in the village and surrounding areas. We left Sani Afondu in One Landcruiser and a pickup truck. After tumbling through one mud hole after another we found ourselves stuck for the third time that day. We figured that just like the other times we would just dig and push and pull our way out and then be on our way. We were wrong.

Murtada was driving the Landcruiser and he is probably one of the best drivers I have ever seen but we were stuck bad this time. As is usual in most parts of Darfur, even when you think you are stuck in the middle of nowhere eventually people start showing up. Eventually we had 32 people crowded around digging and shouting desperately trying to help us get to our destination. We tried pulling the landcruiser out with the pickup but in doing so managed to get the pickup stuck too. Oh hell! Eight hours later we we still digging. It occurred to us that the mud seemed to be filling back in as we dug and eventually we hit the spring that caused the ground to be so soft and then we had not just mud but a foot and half of water. The Sun started to go down and we were concerned but had come to grips with idea of sleeping in the "lake" we had gotten stuck in. Somehow, maybe by the grace of God, we got the pickup out and there were shouts of joy from all the people involved.

As the sun fell out of the sky we decided that Murtada and Abdul Hamid would stay with the stuck Landcruiser and the rest of us would return to Sani Afondu in the pickup. We said goodbye and tore off back towards the compound. I stood up in the back of the landcruiser with Mr. Amir, the translator. Saida and Sara, the Ladies working with the Protection Program, sat in the front with Osam, the driver. There we were, wet, dirty and absolutely exhausted. As the wind blew through my hair and the sun went down I remember looking out over the land and thinking "Here I am, and I am happy here".

Soon after that happy thought I heard a clunk and the truck came skidding to a hauled. Immediately the driver jumped out, looked under the truck and shook his head. "Of course" I said out loud, "Why not break the driveshaft now, seems like a very appropriate time". Off we trucked in the dark for and hour and a half through the mud until we reached the compound in Sani Afondu.

The next morning, still tired and sore from the day before I woke early and called Abdul Hamid to tell him we were coming to get them with two other landcruisers. Thinking that he might be hungry or thirsty I asked him if he needed any water. His reply was simple and to the point "No I am sleeping in water, JUST BRING CIGARETTES!". Fair enough.

So we went and found Abdul and Murtada looking as though they hadn't slept at all and covered in mosquito bites. After four hours of digging and pulling and getting the other two landcruisers stuck we managed to have Murtada's Landcruiser out and we hauled back to Sani Afondu as though the devil was right behind us. When we brought in Murtada's truck to the compound there were cheers as if we had just come back from saving the world...and for a second we all felt like that is exactly what we had been doing. Such is life, at least in Sudan. We settled in after a delicious meal and fell asleep like children in church.

That was an adventure...And we never actually got to our destination. Worst of all, my camera battery was dead and I don't have a single picture.

A donkey in the Grass

2006-09-05T16:59:00.000+03:00

So after a long haul in Khartoum I am finally back in Nyala. I have the pleasure of picking up some of the duties that were being carried out by others who left. About two months ago we began to build a small compound in a town south of here. When my travel pass expired I couldn't follow up on any of the activities going on there and so when I returned yesterday to try and wrap things up I discovered some poorly constructed buildings as well as grass long enough for "a donkey to hide in" as Daud (one of the Sudanese guys that works for us) put it. There may have been one running around... we would have never known. But now that I can travel I am sure the place will be cleaned up and we'll have a proper place to stay when we are doing distributions and various other projects in the area. Below are some photos from Sani Afondu.

Where The Rivers Meet

2006-08-22T00:44:00.000+03:00

Though it may be dusty and in a few places completely trashy, Khartoum has a certain beauty about it. Yes, I am still stuck here and slightly bored. However, I have come to realize in the past couple of days that Khartoum has a lot to offer. Firstly, where the Blue Nile and the White Nile meet is an awesome sight. From the bridge crossing the White Nile you can see the intersection and a mass of rapid moving water through an enormous city is quite astonishing. Unlike the Nile I saw in Egypt, here in Khartoum the street level is only a few feet from the water level and the water is moving very quickly. Across the river on the northern side a mosque with three minarets can be seen behind the papyrus. It is interesting to me that I see very few boats on the river. I expected to at least see locally made "canoes" but I have only seen one from a distance. Also, beautiful trees line the edges of Nile Street. They are perfectly inline with the sidewalk which suggests to me that they were planted long ago and are not natural. I find this to be a disconcerting because they seem to be the only large trees left in Khartoum.

Anyway, until I get my camera I can't show any of this to you and even then, its illegal to take pictures in Khartoum so it might not happen.

If I don't get my travel pass before Thursday I will be going camping north of Khartoum somewhere...hmm conflicting interests. When I was invited to go camping I found myself hoping that my pass won't come through until after the weekend. Crazy.

Mobile Phones and Shakira

2006-08-18T11:59:00.000+03:00

It is ironic that the first mobile phone I have ever had I got in Darfur. That's right, we have mobile phones. Of all the places for me to finally catch up with the world I chose to do so in Darfur. Within the the town of Nyala a company called Mobitel has built a network that works surprisingly well considering we are in western Sudan. It is amazing how far technology, food items and western pop-culture can reach. In Nyala, the main town in the Darfur region, I can get on the internet wirelessly, buy pringles "Texas BBQ" potato chips, and hear Bob Marley blasting out of someone's speakers as they drive by.

Most of this is not interesting to me. Wireless internet is nice, but it is a convenience and not a necessary service. The food? Well, most of the things like pringles are stale by the time they get here from Khartoum and the chocolate bars have melted and been frozen three or four times.

What I find interesting is the mobile phones. Not because I use them but because I find watching Sudanese people use them to be fascinating. They answer the phone saying "Hello" and then they continue in Arabic. Sometimes they talk so loudly and it seems as if they think the person is far away so they should yell.

A few weeks ago a young lady passed by me, wearing a veil and obviously was quite conservative. As she passed her mobile phone rang and it was loud enough for everyone in the street to hear. I recognized the tune but couldn't place it at first. Then I got it and burst out laughing. The tune was Shakira's "Hips Don't Lie".

But still, my favorite thing I have seen, and I have seen this more than once is the Motorcycle-Mobile Phone combo. Both in Nyala and Khartoum I have seen people screaming into their mobile phone as they ride a very loud two-cycle motorbike down the road. It is absolutely astounding to me. You can't stop for two minutes, say what you need to say and then go again? Who came up with that idea? Oh wow. I am laughing even now as I type this and think about it.

I'm out.

Instant Coffee with Spoiled Milk

2006-08-17T16:49:00.000+03:00

That's what I had for breakfast. mmm. Chunks of whitish and yellowish stuff floating on the top of an already terrible drink. But actually, if I didn't think about what it was and what it looked like, it tasted ok. Probably because I dumped half the bowl of sugar into it once I saw that the milk was spoiled. mjanja. Life is what we make of it.

*If any of you are wondering about the link to "My Photography" down in the right corner it will be a link to that in a short while. I don't have my digital camera with me and I don't dare get my film developed in Khartoum. So for now, the gallery will be empty.

Suffering

2006-08-15T21:12:00.000+03:00

August 15, 2006

Khartoum, Beatles Restaurant and Café

Suffering.

While tragedies unfold in various parts of the world what does one do? It would seem that giving everything to the poor is futile without a change of one’s own heart. If I drain my bank account into the lives of others what will I accomplish? It seems that giving financially to those in need is not sustainable. And what is material wealth really worth anyway? Have I really helped someone by filling their life with all the confusion of possessions?

I had the pleasure of spending some time with Abdul Hamid, an employee in the education sector of Samaritan’s Purse here in Sudan. I went to his house, a modest, crudely built place with a few rooms and dirt floors. As I arrived I swung open the makeshift gate, which was constructed of sticks and corrugated iron roofing, and there, playing in the dirt were his four children. Smiles burst from their faces as their father opened his arms to embrace them. He had only been gone for a few hours yet the joy of his return seemed unprecedented to me. I don’t know if I have ever seen children so happy to see their father. His wife called to him from inside one of the rooms and when she heard his voice she came out, her eyes wide and her smile bright. A family that functions is happiness. Loved ones surrounding you, that is joy.

Appreciation…is that the appropriate response to other people’s problems? Appreciation for my own situation? Appreciation for the blessings that have fallen in front of me seems to be a difficult thing to do. While reading articles in magazines or watching documentaries on the BBC I find myself aching inside for the suffering of those around. Then I put the magazine down or turn the TV off and enjoy a $4 cup of coffee. What is wrong with an expensive cup of coffee, luxurious clothes or a big house in the suburbs with a two-car garage? I suppose nothing…intrinsically. It is the attitude I carry with me that I find sickening. When I can’t enjoy certain luxuries I act in a manner similar to someone who has just had their village burned, daughter raped or husband murdered. I find myself creating a lifestyle around me that is so cosmetic and fake that when I am faced with a real tragedy, such as what I have seen here in Darfur, I can’t accept the reality of it. I have no way of relating to the suffering experienced by the Sudanese people that I have worked with. Right now the biggest problem in my life is cavity developing in one of my molars. Life is good if the only pain I feel is when I drink cold sodas too quickly.

Obviously I cannot change the whole world on my own yet it would be foolish to deny that I do have an effect on others, other individuals, in my daily actions. And probably more obvious is the fact that others shape me in return. Just as Abdul Hamid and his family have shown me a glimpse what wealth truly is, so can those who are in need physically show those who have everything what it is to be wealthy. So what now? If wealth isn't in possession should we walk away from Darfur? No. Rather we should realize that the aid, the relief, or simply the help that we give is not soley comprised of what we give physically, but the relationships we build along the way.

First

2006-08-15T03:05:00.000+03:00

This is the first of my online journal entries from Sudan....I hope you aren't bored already. I sort of am. It took me so long to find a blog address that wasn't already used that I almost gave up. I suppose creativety has never been a strong point.

I am sitting in Khartoum on my R and R break. I was supposed to come here for just one week however I came here knowing I would be here longer. My travel permits still haven't come through and therefore I can't go anywhere, including back to Nyala.

What is the consequence of not planning your future? That's what I have been pondering the past few days. I don't believe I will regress, but rather float along unaware of what could be.