No really. During a break at the health forum I attended today I was told to search for a google group called Jubalicious. At least people here have a sense of humor!
So I made it to Juba after an eventful time in Rumbek. Wednesday was a holiday that marked the 3rd anniversary of the death of John Garang, the former leader of the Sudanese People's Liberation Army/Movement (which is now in power in South Sudan). I went out to a spot close by with people from work since we technically had Wednesday off and the subject of what I've learned here came up. I told them that I have to make a presentation when I get back to school and one of the things I have to talk about are big lessons learned. Several drinks into the day off from work celebration the members of my and several other NGOs came up with the following three things I should have learned: 1. Never offer to help. Everyone in these situations is understaffed and under-resourced, so offering to help can get you in a whole lot of trouble. Prime example: one staff member told of his first job where he heard someone saying they were overwhelmed and he offered to help. They asked whether he knew how to move refugees. He said sure. He ended up directing an armored convoy through an active war zone to load, register and then deliver refugees to a refugee camp. Yes, he helped. No, he should never have been allowed to lead such a dangerous activity. 2. Always bullshit. This came up when I told them that when I arrived at the airport in Rumbek I wasn't registered to be on the flight. The operator told me that it was possible that someone had emailed him, instructing him to "greenlight" me and put me on the flight, but his email was down. I explained that I was sure that was the case and I absolutely needed to be on this flight. So me, and my two super heavy bags (the limit is 1 bag at 15 kilos) got on the flight without paying for a ticket or for my extra weight or bag :) 3. Always assume things will go wrong, as opposed to assuming things will go right. This is completely contrary to my nature, I'm an optimist and like to believe that things have a way of working out. But here it's best to plan so that, even if it all goes to hell in a hand basket, you can still do what you need to do. I was told this when I asked a staff member if she thought it was a good idea for me to be booked on a flight from Juba that would arrive in Nairobi at 2pm the same day as my 6pm flight to Dubai. Generally that would be fine, international flights tend to be more reliable than domestic flights (which almost never leave on time, if they leave at all). But, as she explained, my organization will fly me in a day early, pay for a hotel and a cab to and from the airport, so the hassle is theirs. Whereas if I miss my flight to Dubai it becomes my problem. So on that note I have 12 more days left in Juba, rather than 13. I must be learning.
Also there are new pictures up if you're curious: http://picasaweb.google.com/roberts.kathryn
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Sunday, July 27, 2008
On the Road Again
As much as Mvolo has embodied slow summer days and lazy afternoons, it's now all coming to an end relatively abruptly. I got an email on Saturday from our Country Director asking me to present the research methods and findings from our survey at the upcoming Juba Health Forum. The Forum is on the 31st of July. This means that I have to fly out of Rumbek on the 29th because the 30th is a national holiday (the 3rd Anniversary of John Garang's death). We currently have an electrician from Rumbek visiting who needs to return on Monday, which means I'm leaving tomorrow! After spending time counting down to countdowns and doing some waffling in my love/hate relationship with Mvolo, now I won't even have time to say good bye to many of the people I've gotten to know here, which feels like such a shame.
Given that I have about 2.5 weeks left in South Sudan total, I wonder where I would prefer to spend them, in Mvolo or Juba. It seems like every upside of one place is a downside of the other. For instance:
Plumbing - Mvolo doesn't have any.
Juba has indoor plumbing, but the water that pours over you in the shower is straight out of the Nile (into which our indoor plumbing empties itself).
Winner? While I'm not a fan of latrines I think I'll take a bucketbath with clean water over a shower with who knows what in it any day.
Food - Mvolo's food is basic, beans, greens and rice for lunch and dinner every day. Very little variety and if I eat out it just means a different kind of beans. But breakfast is usually yummy with something fresh baked. Plus there's oatmeal!
Juba - Much more variety, equally greasy but yummy food at the guest house. There are places to go out and get other food which is exciting. But it also means I'd be spending money which I never do in Mvolo.
Winner? I think it's a toss up. If it were forever I'd vote for the food in Juba, but I've been eating rice, beans and greens twice a day for two months, two more weeks wouldn't kill me.
Living - Mvolo is serene, it's cooler and it's quiet and it's beautiful. I love the birds and the lizards and being able to run or walk in a straight line for as far as I want. The sunsets are amazing and the air is so much cleaner than my ny apartment right near the George Washington Bridge. I am, however, covered in bug bites. I don't know if I've ever had this many. It's also very isolated here, even with all the internet chatting and my colleagues around, I still feel it. And the mouse that keeps me up at night is getting on my last nerve. There is nothing he won't chew and nothing that makes noise and rustles that he won't sift through at night. grrr.
Juba is hot. Really hot. And dusty and dirty. Instead of chickens and goats you have sick dogs and burning trash. But then again there are people, lots of people. And there aren't bugs in the bedrooms. Running is more of a challenge but still doable.
Winner? I think it's going to be Juba. I think long term I would pick Juba. But in the interests of not having culture shock when I meet Doug in Dubai or when I make it home to Washington Heights, I figure spending the next 10 days getting my sanity back and seeing friends in Juba sounds like a pretty good plan. Because after all, although I've been working 50 hour weeks for nothing, I'm technically on vacation :)
I think I could play this game with just about anywhere. There are always benefits and drawbacks of everywhere and I think these past couple months in incredibly rural Mvolo will help me make it through another year in New York City. More updates to come from Rumbek and beyond.
Given that I have about 2.5 weeks left in South Sudan total, I wonder where I would prefer to spend them, in Mvolo or Juba. It seems like every upside of one place is a downside of the other. For instance:
Plumbing - Mvolo doesn't have any.
Juba has indoor plumbing, but the water that pours over you in the shower is straight out of the Nile (into which our indoor plumbing empties itself).
Winner? While I'm not a fan of latrines I think I'll take a bucketbath with clean water over a shower with who knows what in it any day.
Food - Mvolo's food is basic, beans, greens and rice for lunch and dinner every day. Very little variety and if I eat out it just means a different kind of beans. But breakfast is usually yummy with something fresh baked. Plus there's oatmeal!
Juba - Much more variety, equally greasy but yummy food at the guest house. There are places to go out and get other food which is exciting. But it also means I'd be spending money which I never do in Mvolo.
Winner? I think it's a toss up. If it were forever I'd vote for the food in Juba, but I've been eating rice, beans and greens twice a day for two months, two more weeks wouldn't kill me.
Living - Mvolo is serene, it's cooler and it's quiet and it's beautiful. I love the birds and the lizards and being able to run or walk in a straight line for as far as I want. The sunsets are amazing and the air is so much cleaner than my ny apartment right near the George Washington Bridge. I am, however, covered in bug bites. I don't know if I've ever had this many. It's also very isolated here, even with all the internet chatting and my colleagues around, I still feel it. And the mouse that keeps me up at night is getting on my last nerve. There is nothing he won't chew and nothing that makes noise and rustles that he won't sift through at night. grrr.
Juba is hot. Really hot. And dusty and dirty. Instead of chickens and goats you have sick dogs and burning trash. But then again there are people, lots of people. And there aren't bugs in the bedrooms. Running is more of a challenge but still doable.
Winner? I think it's going to be Juba. I think long term I would pick Juba. But in the interests of not having culture shock when I meet Doug in Dubai or when I make it home to Washington Heights, I figure spending the next 10 days getting my sanity back and seeing friends in Juba sounds like a pretty good plan. Because after all, although I've been working 50 hour weeks for nothing, I'm technically on vacation :)
I think I could play this game with just about anywhere. There are always benefits and drawbacks of everywhere and I think these past couple months in incredibly rural Mvolo will help me make it through another year in New York City. More updates to come from Rumbek and beyond.
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
Where are you going?
Many years ago a friend of mine explained to me why he liked walking to school after a snowfall. As he walked to school he would leave his footprints in the snow, marveling at the impressions laid out behind him, then as he walked home in the afternoon he would look for his shoe prints, to see if the marks he had left that morning were still apparent.
The other day I did the same thing without even realizing it. I went for a run down the one road here. It's about the width of two cars, the dirt is bright red and it is filled with potholes big enough to swallow a small goat. It had rained the night before so when I was on my way back I noticed my footprints in the mud. I could see where I'd weaved and jumped to avoid puddles and and sprained ankles. It was also very apparent that mine were the only shoe prints with a nifty tread design. The mud was full of deep tire tracks from the huge trucks that rattle by all day and most of the night, there were some hoof prints from goats and the occasional prints of bare feet left by the kids tending the goats.
It dawned on me then why I get the reactions I do from the drivers of trucks and motor bikes, as well as people in the community when I jog by. The most popular reaction is simply to return my wave and smile. Closely following that is a perplexed expression, shrugged shoulders, maybe a little head shaking. Then there are those who stop, they ask me where I'm going, after trying to explain that I'm just running for fun, that nothing is wrong, no one is chasing me, and no thank you I don't need a ride, I continue on my way, and they hang on to their confusion. I had one man stop his enormous truck, jump out and start waving his arms and shouting at me in Arabic. After a moment I got it across that I had no idea what I was saying, but his copilot managed to explain that they were coming from Somalia and he wanted me to take his picture so I could show it to people in America. Presenting my empty palms I apologized profusely and he shook my hand until he wore himself out and was on his way.
I pass two clusters of tukuls on my run, (as there's only one road and I've been instructed to run in only one direction, I know the scenery pretty well) and in one of the clusters is a set of kids who run out whenever I come by. I stop, shake lots of little hands, then try to explain that I'll stop and play on my way back. But at they sometimes want to run after me in their flip flops I want to yell "Stop, you don't have the calories to spare!" And that's what it is. The idea that there is so much food that you have extra calories to just throw around to go for a run in the heat is a completely foreign concept here. Exercise might just be the most pretentious thing I do here. It's like flaunting all the food we have to eat in the compound. But then again my running has gotten other people who work in my compound to get out walking which is a plus, because between the isolation and stress, plus the food drenched in palm oil and long days staring at our computers, we could all use a little exercise. So we walk together sometimes, generally to the only white tree which is about 25-30 minutes down the road. I get teased about keeping up because several of the people I work with come from nomadic or herding tribes. But then when I run I'm by myself, and on those long lazy Sundays when there is no power and I've already finished a book, written in my journal, painted a picture and contemplated going back to bed, I just run. As far as I can, and it just happens to be towards Juba (the future site of my departure from Southern Sudan). Eventually I get tired or a little bored and I walk back, sometimes through rainstorms if my timing is bad. My sojourns take me to the same place every day, but provide me with a great outlet for my Larium jitters (hey it's better than mefloquine induced psychosis...) and the other things that make me not feel like myself. So while my running could be described as culturally insensitive, I need it. Because if nothing else, after a long hot run, I feel alive again, and I feel almost the same way I do after a run in New York. Tired. A little wheezy from the exhaust. And generally slightly delirious and happy. I figure I'll take what I can get.
I've got about two weeks left in Mvolo, then I'm off to Rumbek for a few days, then Juba from there. Then finally to Nairobi and off for a whirlwind tour of Dubai and Abu Dhabi before coming back to New York on August 26th. Thanks to everyone for keeping in touch, it's been more helpful than you know, and keep it up! I'm going to be gone for a little over a month more!
The other day I did the same thing without even realizing it. I went for a run down the one road here. It's about the width of two cars, the dirt is bright red and it is filled with potholes big enough to swallow a small goat. It had rained the night before so when I was on my way back I noticed my footprints in the mud. I could see where I'd weaved and jumped to avoid puddles and and sprained ankles. It was also very apparent that mine were the only shoe prints with a nifty tread design. The mud was full of deep tire tracks from the huge trucks that rattle by all day and most of the night, there were some hoof prints from goats and the occasional prints of bare feet left by the kids tending the goats.
It dawned on me then why I get the reactions I do from the drivers of trucks and motor bikes, as well as people in the community when I jog by. The most popular reaction is simply to return my wave and smile. Closely following that is a perplexed expression, shrugged shoulders, maybe a little head shaking. Then there are those who stop, they ask me where I'm going, after trying to explain that I'm just running for fun, that nothing is wrong, no one is chasing me, and no thank you I don't need a ride, I continue on my way, and they hang on to their confusion. I had one man stop his enormous truck, jump out and start waving his arms and shouting at me in Arabic. After a moment I got it across that I had no idea what I was saying, but his copilot managed to explain that they were coming from Somalia and he wanted me to take his picture so I could show it to people in America. Presenting my empty palms I apologized profusely and he shook my hand until he wore himself out and was on his way.
I pass two clusters of tukuls on my run, (as there's only one road and I've been instructed to run in only one direction, I know the scenery pretty well) and in one of the clusters is a set of kids who run out whenever I come by. I stop, shake lots of little hands, then try to explain that I'll stop and play on my way back. But at they sometimes want to run after me in their flip flops I want to yell "Stop, you don't have the calories to spare!" And that's what it is. The idea that there is so much food that you have extra calories to just throw around to go for a run in the heat is a completely foreign concept here. Exercise might just be the most pretentious thing I do here. It's like flaunting all the food we have to eat in the compound. But then again my running has gotten other people who work in my compound to get out walking which is a plus, because between the isolation and stress, plus the food drenched in palm oil and long days staring at our computers, we could all use a little exercise. So we walk together sometimes, generally to the only white tree which is about 25-30 minutes down the road. I get teased about keeping up because several of the people I work with come from nomadic or herding tribes. But then when I run I'm by myself, and on those long lazy Sundays when there is no power and I've already finished a book, written in my journal, painted a picture and contemplated going back to bed, I just run. As far as I can, and it just happens to be towards Juba (the future site of my departure from Southern Sudan). Eventually I get tired or a little bored and I walk back, sometimes through rainstorms if my timing is bad. My sojourns take me to the same place every day, but provide me with a great outlet for my Larium jitters (hey it's better than mefloquine induced psychosis...) and the other things that make me not feel like myself. So while my running could be described as culturally insensitive, I need it. Because if nothing else, after a long hot run, I feel alive again, and I feel almost the same way I do after a run in New York. Tired. A little wheezy from the exhaust. And generally slightly delirious and happy. I figure I'll take what I can get.
I've got about two weeks left in Mvolo, then I'm off to Rumbek for a few days, then Juba from there. Then finally to Nairobi and off for a whirlwind tour of Dubai and Abu Dhabi before coming back to New York on August 26th. Thanks to everyone for keeping in touch, it's been more helpful than you know, and keep it up! I'm going to be gone for a little over a month more!
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
I am the master of my infinite patience
This is my new mantra. I repeat it in my head while breathing deeply. (I feel like the guy in Fight Club who is reading books that describe the experience of organs in the first person for some reason. "I am Jack's raging bile duct" "I am Kate's racing heart and urge to yell at someone") I started saying it when I would fight with the internet here. It's a satellite so if it's rainy or windy, no internet. It's the rainy season. I play a lot of solitaire and remind myself to be patient. Then yesterday we drove through the thickest bushes and deepest muddy puddles you can imagine for at least 1.5 hours to get to Kombi to survey their kids. The school was entirely empty. There weren't more than 10 people in the whole town. The tukuls that make up the health center (that we fund and pay 3 staff members) were padlocked shut. No survey. But it was okay, because we did get to survey Kulu which was on the way back. Skip to today. We drove to Mayewe. Long drive. Hot day. No kids. Again. Apparently the teachers had gone to Mvolo (where we had just come from) to collect their salaries, so the school was closed. Deep breath. Patience. Drive home. Spend limited survey funds to pay per diem, but get no work done. News from Mvolo and MOEST (Ministry of Education, Science and Technology): Some teachers have gone home. Some have not. Unlikely they'll reopen the schools this week. Two weeks of vacation to follow. I have about 4.5 weeks left in Southern Sudan. So the next two and half weeks not used for the survey is a pretty intense setback. Luckily the next county over, Wulu, is finishing their vacation this week, so hopefully we can survey them while we wait for Mvolo to come back. Deep breath. So now I've got some time to work on data entry, finishing up the revision on the School Health and Nutrition curriculum I've been working on. It'll also be nice to not squish 13 people (!) into a Land Rover for hours on end. But after a visit from the country director earlier this week I've got my plans set for the final weeks, ironed out what my deliverables are etc. And although I'm only technically half way through my three months that I'll be gone (two weeks of vacation after my work is done!), it feels like the summer is beginning to come to a close. Every day that the country director was here, he asked me what I'd learned that day, and there was always something new to tell him. The new type of disease presentation, new explanations for why there is so much fear/hatred for the Dinka in this area, new ways that bug bits can swell up and hurt/bruise/bleed! All sorts of mind boggling things. More pictures are coming, check out the ones that are there now at http://picasaweb.google.com/roberts.kathryn if you haven't seen them yet. More soon.
Friday, July 11, 2008
A plane landed in Mvolo!
Well almost. After a long day of surveying and pricking little kids we were waiting in Mvolo center for a ride back to Domeri (where our compound is) and we heard a huge rumbling. What happened next was right out of the movies. Every single person in the store, in the town, ran outside and stared up at the sky. We hadn't seen the plane but it was sure flying low, could it be landing here?! A mass migration began, first with little kids running towards the airstrip, little girls with baby brothers and sisters on their hips and older kids whizzing by on bicycles. Then the adults started to wander over in groups, continuing their conversations but obviously curious to see who had come to what has been described as an "unlandable" airstrip. A crowd gathered, everyone was pushing their way to the front to see what exciting people and things might emerge from the plane. But then the news slowly spread through the crowd and back to the town. The plane hadn't landed, it was just flying very low and had continued on to Rumbek. What was almost the biggest day in Mvolo didn't end up amounting to much, but it was amazing how foreign the sound of a plane was to me after only 6 weeks away from the big city.
All wasn't lost though because USAID had made a visit to the town earlier so everyone went back to playing with their new toys. Radios! And not just any radios. Blue radios about the size of half a loaf of bread cut lengthwise. They come with batteries installed, but also have a hand crank and a solar panel. They receive in AM, FM and SW1 and SW2 which I've never actually heard of, but are the only frequencies we get here. The funny thing was that everything from USAID says "USAID - From the American People" on it, so everyone was joking and asking me if the radios were really from me. USAID has sponsored a couple radio programs in Sudan and they are apparently giving out radios to make sure people are able to listen to them. I got the scoop on one program when I visited the USAID compound in Juba and talked to the Education Officer. She said that they had a program that broadcasts classes for grades 1-4 every day. That way even when there are places with less teachers than they need, no teachers or untrained teachers, the kids can still learn if they listen to the broadcast. And I figure it also helps if adults end up listening to the broadcasts since it's estimated that 80% of the population is illiterate, it can't hurt! We've been visiting more and more schools here and although I admit we seriously disrupt classes by taking out students in P3 and P4, it seems like school isn't the learning environment we wish it was. With most schools taught all by unpaid volunteers, and the volunteers generally untrained with little access to resources for curriculum planning or even working with children it's no wonder that the education is relatively rudimentary. Check out this BBC article about a town we've already surveyed! (I was very entertained to find factual errors in the article, things I know from being here!) http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/africa/6289528.stm
We've got a week left to finish the survey in Mvolo County before the kids go on break for a few weeks, so this week will be a big push, and after that it's on to managing all this data! I'm more than half way through my time here, and thanks to everyone who's been in touch with me so far, it's a huge help to have people to talk to, or to entertain me with stories from home. On that note please check out the addenda I'm going to add to a few blogs. I've gotten some good comments and additional info about some of the things I've written about from discerning readers. I love that people read these entries, but also remember that I'm claiming to be neither neutral nor an expert. I'm merely an observer and I am very aware (as are all of you, I'm sure) of all the biases associated with my experiences and my perceptions of what happens around me.
All wasn't lost though because USAID had made a visit to the town earlier so everyone went back to playing with their new toys. Radios! And not just any radios. Blue radios about the size of half a loaf of bread cut lengthwise. They come with batteries installed, but also have a hand crank and a solar panel. They receive in AM, FM and SW1 and SW2 which I've never actually heard of, but are the only frequencies we get here. The funny thing was that everything from USAID says "USAID - From the American People" on it, so everyone was joking and asking me if the radios were really from me. USAID has sponsored a couple radio programs in Sudan and they are apparently giving out radios to make sure people are able to listen to them. I got the scoop on one program when I visited the USAID compound in Juba and talked to the Education Officer. She said that they had a program that broadcasts classes for grades 1-4 every day. That way even when there are places with less teachers than they need, no teachers or untrained teachers, the kids can still learn if they listen to the broadcast. And I figure it also helps if adults end up listening to the broadcasts since it's estimated that 80% of the population is illiterate, it can't hurt! We've been visiting more and more schools here and although I admit we seriously disrupt classes by taking out students in P3 and P4, it seems like school isn't the learning environment we wish it was. With most schools taught all by unpaid volunteers, and the volunteers generally untrained with little access to resources for curriculum planning or even working with children it's no wonder that the education is relatively rudimentary. Check out this BBC article about a town we've already surveyed! (I was very entertained to find factual errors in the article, things I know from being here!) http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/africa/6289528.stm
We've got a week left to finish the survey in Mvolo County before the kids go on break for a few weeks, so this week will be a big push, and after that it's on to managing all this data! I'm more than half way through my time here, and thanks to everyone who's been in touch with me so far, it's a huge help to have people to talk to, or to entertain me with stories from home. On that note please check out the addenda I'm going to add to a few blogs. I've gotten some good comments and additional info about some of the things I've written about from discerning readers. I love that people read these entries, but also remember that I'm claiming to be neither neutral nor an expert. I'm merely an observer and I am very aware (as are all of you, I'm sure) of all the biases associated with my experiences and my perceptions of what happens around me.
Saturday, July 5, 2008
Wondering where I am?
Maybe that's a bit self centered :) Maybe you're not wondering at all and figured I've been working away interviewing ankle biters (children that is, not mosquitoes or black flies) and having meetings in excruciating heat in tukuls. Though generally true, not the case lately! I've only had limited access to the internet for the past couple weeks, so here's a general life update and I'll get back to the more well thought out posting a bit later. I'm working on a baseline survey on children's health and nutrition status and knowledge and after recalculating the sampling frame at least a million times we've finally got everything going and we had the training and got the sampling started. I was nominated to be the one to prick their fingers and take blood samples to test them for anemia. Given that a lot of little kids in very rural towns already cry and run away when they see me, going after them with a needle and a wacky machine that checks their blood didn't exactly help matters. But, after months and months of pricking my own finger to teach people how to check their blood sugar and doing diabetes education I was quite the pro and only one girl cried so hard I couldn't prick her finger at all :) We're sampling children in primary 3 and 4, but because of movement and conflict and not attending school at regular intervals among other things, the kids in primary 3 and 4 range from about 8 or 9 up to 16. And the interesting thing is that those are only guesses because none of the kids know approximately how old they are, let alone their exact birthday. Plus many of them are malnourished which leads to stunting and delayed puberty so even estimating their ages is hard. So with interviews, physical exams and sample collection we've gotten through three full schools and still have quite a ways to go.
Last Friday morning we left before the sun rose to drive from Mvolo to Juba which is about 8 hours by car. Most of the time is because the roads are absolutely horrendous despite attempts to keep them maintained and avoiding the potholes is quite the task. On top of that we had a full car with one person coming down with malaria and another throwing up every 30 minutes with car sickness. Not a trip I'd like to repeat! I then spent the weekend in Juba which was quite fun since there is another intern (Arpan) based there. She was in Juba for about a year in 2005(?) so she gave me a grand tour and also knows many people still living here so I finally got a look at what the ex-pat scene is like as well as what's outside Hai Malakal (the area of Juba where we're based). I spent Sunday at the USAID complex (where there's a swimming pool!) talking to ex-pats and hanging out and meeting people which was a lot of fun. Hearing the stories of everyone working for different NGOs and UN agencies was fascinating, as was hearing the perspectives of the newly arrived versus those who had been here for years.
Then on Monday almost everyone in the agency headed to Addis Ababa, Ethiopia for a retreat. We stayed at ILRI (International Livestock Research Institute) which was nice and not filled with animals like I imagined :) The retreat sessions were a bit like a recap of many of the classes I've taken at school, so it's good to know I'm learning the right stuff, plus it's amazing seeing everything that goes into supporting the people who are in the field implementing programs. Judy and I (another intern from Columbia, based in Pagak) got out to explore the city a bit which was exciting, Addis is a pretty cool and I'd definitely like to go back. And of course the food was amazing, everyone was surprised that I'd had Ethiopian food in the states, but the funniest thing of all is that when Judy and I were at Emory together we actually used to go out for Ethiopian together. Small world. I have some great pictures and photos of traditional Ethiopian dancing which is like nothing I've ever seen. I'll get them uploaded soon! We flew from Addis to Juba on Friday, but unfortunately I was the only American left in the office because a number of people are off at meetings or on leave. Arpan and I headed out to a local place called Bedouin Bar where there was a big barbecue and american music and a bit of dancing. They were projecting American movies without sound and somehow the ones they chose to best represent America were Black Hawk Down, Saving Private Ryan and Pulp Fiction. It was definitely a fun 4th although I was quickly reprimanded when I suggested trying to make our own fireworks (people said that everyone would think it was fighting. i was only kidding anyhow!). But it was lots of fun. I realized that this was my 4th July 4th that I've spent out of the country. I was arriving in Paraguay, picnicking and water fighting in the Dominican Republic, summiting Mt Kilimanjaro and now traveling around East Africa and hearing stories about life in South Sudan from veterans of hardship posts around the world. But I must say, there's nothing like watching fireworks in the states, maybe next year :)
Last Friday morning we left before the sun rose to drive from Mvolo to Juba which is about 8 hours by car. Most of the time is because the roads are absolutely horrendous despite attempts to keep them maintained and avoiding the potholes is quite the task. On top of that we had a full car with one person coming down with malaria and another throwing up every 30 minutes with car sickness. Not a trip I'd like to repeat! I then spent the weekend in Juba which was quite fun since there is another intern (Arpan) based there. She was in Juba for about a year in 2005(?) so she gave me a grand tour and also knows many people still living here so I finally got a look at what the ex-pat scene is like as well as what's outside Hai Malakal (the area of Juba where we're based). I spent Sunday at the USAID complex (where there's a swimming pool!) talking to ex-pats and hanging out and meeting people which was a lot of fun. Hearing the stories of everyone working for different NGOs and UN agencies was fascinating, as was hearing the perspectives of the newly arrived versus those who had been here for years.
Then on Monday almost everyone in the agency headed to Addis Ababa, Ethiopia for a retreat. We stayed at ILRI (International Livestock Research Institute) which was nice and not filled with animals like I imagined :) The retreat sessions were a bit like a recap of many of the classes I've taken at school, so it's good to know I'm learning the right stuff, plus it's amazing seeing everything that goes into supporting the people who are in the field implementing programs. Judy and I (another intern from Columbia, based in Pagak) got out to explore the city a bit which was exciting, Addis is a pretty cool and I'd definitely like to go back. And of course the food was amazing, everyone was surprised that I'd had Ethiopian food in the states, but the funniest thing of all is that when Judy and I were at Emory together we actually used to go out for Ethiopian together. Small world. I have some great pictures and photos of traditional Ethiopian dancing which is like nothing I've ever seen. I'll get them uploaded soon! We flew from Addis to Juba on Friday, but unfortunately I was the only American left in the office because a number of people are off at meetings or on leave. Arpan and I headed out to a local place called Bedouin Bar where there was a big barbecue and american music and a bit of dancing. They were projecting American movies without sound and somehow the ones they chose to best represent America were Black Hawk Down, Saving Private Ryan and Pulp Fiction. It was definitely a fun 4th although I was quickly reprimanded when I suggested trying to make our own fireworks (people said that everyone would think it was fighting. i was only kidding anyhow!). But it was lots of fun. I realized that this was my 4th July 4th that I've spent out of the country. I was arriving in Paraguay, picnicking and water fighting in the Dominican Republic, summiting Mt Kilimanjaro and now traveling around East Africa and hearing stories about life in South Sudan from veterans of hardship posts around the world. But I must say, there's nothing like watching fireworks in the states, maybe next year :)
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