Boating the Nile

So the crew and I decided since we had the day off to take a boat trip.  I arranged with a man named Johnson at the Da Vinci Lodge to take us out on our rest day.  Everyone who knows me realizes I love spending time on the water.  I really wanted to get out fishing on the White Nile, but Johnson’s rods were stolen recently.  He offered we could take a trip 15km out of Juba to a island to have a BBQ. 

We meet the boat in the mid afternoon.  The current flows really hard on the Nile (4-6 kts).  As we left Juba, we saw kids in the river swimming, the commercial port, and many barges that ran aground rotting away.  As we left the city behind I could see many mud huts with straw roofs dominated the river banks.  People were going along with life as if we were not there.  It was fascinating seeing the people fishing, and playing in the river.  

We arrive at the island, it appears to be deserted, with only a hut that appeared to be lived in.  The boat operator unloaded the boat and said he had another pickup to do and would be leaving for an hour or two.

I am out exploring the island, being careful not to step on a black mamba, or cobra snake, when a man comes out of the bush.  His name is Phillip and he owns the island.  Phillips english is extremely poor but he communicates through gestures and speaking his own mix of local Arabic and Swahili.  

Phillip and I go back to where the crew is lighting a fire to cook our sausage and wieners.  We cook up a great feast and feed Phillip who can down more hot dogs and sausage than the average man!  He tells us his life story, which we can’t understand a word of.  Through his gesturing and acting, I can tell it is about his family being killed during the war.  Even though we didn’t speak the same language, you can still communicate.  

After dinner, I go back out to explore, and find the quietest place I have yet found in Africa.  Sitting on the banks of the Nile, I just sit and listen to the birds, monkeys in the trees, and the children playing across the river in a small village.  It is a beautiful surrounding.  For the past month and a half, I have had no personal space, cars honking, motor cycles (boda) buzzing by, airplanes roaring overhead, people yelling, music blaring and other various noises banging on my ear drums!  This was truly peaceful!

After a couple of hours Johnson comes back in the boat with a family from Darfour.  Darfour is the area of the country that is still war ravaged and many atrocities have occurred.  They area obviously a very wealthy family, are dressed up, have cameras, nice jewelry and have flown in from Khartoum.  They have a pair of twin boys that are 4 years old, and a cute little girl that is 1.  The kids are amazing and take a liking to us.

After an visit with Phillip, it is time to go home before sunset.  We say our goodbyes, and the crew leave some cigarettes for Phillip as he loves them.  Once on the boat, I ask Johnson if I could drive for a bit.  He obliges and lets me take the helm.  It is pretty cool running up river in the middle of Africa in a steel boat!  The twin 4 year olds want to drive, so I gratefully hand over the helm to them.  They drive us all the way back to Juba and have a smile ear to ear!  Future Sudanese boaters!

The Juba Construction Site

I have been touring real-estate to rent for the company.  Juba is under a massive amount of construction at the moment and much of what I have looked at is under the process of being built.  I took a few years out of my career to work construction and know the building code and safety codes really well in Ontario.  

Construction sites in Juba are very rustic.  Ladders are not approved and have no certification on them.  How could they when they are made of old pieces of wood tied together with twine!  

Welding is typically done with no mask.  Who needs a welder, when you can buy an old transformer, some jumper cables and find a hook up to city power?  No wonder the power is always browning out and flicking off!  By the way power failures happen at least 5 times a day.  I don’t even flinch now when the lights go out.

Workers don’t have tape measures.  I was at a local site last week and needed to measure a room.  The fore men pulls out a rope with meters marked out with marker.  I later watch many of the other workers using this method also.

Nothing is level, straight or plum.  This is because most things are done by eye.  I have never seen a level or a square on a construction site yet but I have seen the workers using a plum bob.  Some of the buildings being constructed are leaning so bad, I can easily see the lean from the road.

Electricians wire by trial and error.  I have watched now 3 guys wiring boxes, while live and electrocute them selves.  These guys are real men because they are getting 220V shocks, not the usual 120V we would get in Canada!  Some switches work properly, while others are dead, plugs are scattered around the room sometimes at floor level, sometimes 6 feet up the wall.  

When I worked construction, we typically had a few beers to celebrate the completion of a project.  But my boss never put on a party like I walked into last week!   The guys were in the process of slaughtering a goat in one of the rooms that were just completed.  The goat carcass was hanging from a rope, with its innards hanging from its body.  Fly’s were all over the goat and the guys were light a fire on a tiled courtyard they just completed.  Blood was soaking into the grout of the tile.  The foreman told me “Don’t worry the blood stains will come out!”

Kawhaja Taxi Service

As soon as I am finished at the bank, I call my driver to pick me up.  He is 5 minutes away and tell him to pick me up on the street and avoid the parking lot.  Parking lots in Juba are disorganized and can lead you to being blocked in for some time.  

I see the van coming and end up hoping in the side door.  The next thing I know, I have a police man with a AK47 trying to open my door.  I lock the door and tell my driver to go, but a car has pulled in front of us.  The police man walks around to the left side of the vehicle (our van is right side driven even though we drive on the right side of the road) and hops in the front seat.  He wants a ride across town.  I am in the position of having a pocket full of cash, and being high jacked to drive a crazy man with a AK47.  So what do I do but start an argument with him.  I demand he get out of our vehicle immediately and we are not a taxi service.  He tells me in the clearest english I have yet heard a local speak “I can not under stand you as my english in not good”.  I continue to argue with him until finally I have had enough and tell the driver to pull over.  I get out of the vehicle and open his door and tell him the ride is over.  I am not a stupid white man who is operating a taxi service for police.  He  laughs and is on his way.  I let my shaky legs get me into the van and we drive off.  

Later that day, guess who we see directing traffic on the other end of town?  Our buddy the police man.  He is holding his riffle over his head yelling at us, waving and laughing.  We wave and continue to drive.

3 Hours at the Bank

Once again, the bank.  The most inefficient institution in South Sudan!  So I am standing in line almost desperate.  The last 3 days I have walked into the bank looked at the line and walked out.  Today I will be out of company money if I don’t do a withdrawal and it has to be done regardless.  So I am number 31 in cue, lucky I have my ipod with me.  My counterpart I took over for told me I should always bring it to the bank with me.  The teller averages a customer every 7 minutes, so I am in for a wait!  The reason behind the ipod, other than to rock out, is to block out the annoying constant beeping from the alarm system and the awful ring tones that Africans have on their cell phones.  The ambient noise in the place is awful and should be used for war time torture. 

It is hour 2 of waiting, and I am now number 6 in cue to go.  I can almost feel those crisp  C notes in my hands.  Wait, there is a ruckus going on about 30 feet to my left.  South Sudanese people are very dramatic and always feel everything is their business.  A crowd of 20 people are now arguing and on man is the cause behind the mini riot.  I pop my ear buds out to allow myself a possibility of hearing impending danger.  I can not understand the chatter in the local Arabic, but I can tell they are worked up.  Oh no!  The man who initially caused the riot, pushes the security guard.  The guard pulls out his beating stick and starts to do a number on him.  Should I give up my spot in line after 2 hours of waiting and get out before the place goes into a full blown riot?  No, to much time invested!  Multiple guards get the situation under control, zip tie the mans hands and feet together and carry him out of the bank like a piece of luggage.  

Another 55 minutes later I am at the tellers window finally.  She is handing me crisp USA c-notes and I am happy.  All I have to do now is get in another line up to get a statement.  There is a lady who can print statements, who very obviously likes white men.  I have a little wink, wink, arrangement with her and she sees me in line.  I am 12th in cue, but she gets up from behind her desk, comes over and asks me if she can help me.  I explain I need a statement, flirt a little and I am out of the bank with the paper in hand.  

It is always an adventure!!  Wait until I tell you about the ride home!!

Mother Nature decides its not the right day!

A co-worker and I went for a hike up the mountain the other day.  I have been very busy at work and have been unable to get out there since the first week I was in Juba.  He has never been to South Sudan and wanted to see some local culture.  It has rained a lot and the vegetation is green and lush.   We walk by the anti-aircraft guns that are spattered in the village on the base of the mountain.  Some times I have to remind myself that while Juba is not a war zone, it was not long ago and could be if politics or rebels decide it should be again!

Tiny lizards run around on the path making the mountain and rock come alive as you walk.  I am some what paranoid that the rustling in the weeds isn’t a lizard but a cobra.  Luckily I have not yet seen one!

We walk through rock city and observe the women sitting under there lean to’s making gravel.  As we ascend the mountain, I can notice the smell of camp fire.  This is when I realize how the men split these giant boulders!  The men light a fire under the boulder and heat it up until it splits.  We walk by one man who has 2 or 3 fires burning that he looks like he is busy tending.  I got to witness one of the boulders crack.  It went off like a pop of a gun!

We neared the summit and could hear the approaching thunder getting closer.  The clouds were getting darker and we collectively made the decision that we didn’t want to be standing on the highest point around Juba during a lightning storm!  The descent went quickly.  By the base of the mountain the rain started to fall.  We ducked into a construction site and sat on the porch of a large modern house that was being constructed.  The rain came down like I have not seen yet in Africa!  We could not see feet in front of us!  

My driver gives me a call and asks if he can pick us up and where are we.  I tell him I am in a construction site across from a mud hut, with goats in front, on a dirt road (that is what Juba looks like on every street!).  I have not seen a street sign since I left Canada!

We meet up with him at a local gas station after the rain calmed down and get a ride to change into dry cloths.  All I could think of on the trip home was those poor men who had been heating the boulders up all day with the fires and the day’s work was wasted when the storm came through and extinguished there hot coals!  What a disappointment that would be after hauling all the wood over, tending multiple fires, and having mother nature decide today wasn’t your day!  What a hard life!

Saying Goodbye Juba Style

Funerals are always sad affairs.  No one wants to say good bye to a loved one.  I have now seen a few funeral precessions in Juba.  They are hard to miss.  Usually the casket is loaded in the back of a pickup truck and is accompanied by family members and friends.  The men look somber while the women wail, cry and scream very loudly.  It is very hard to miss.  

The pickup drives to the cemetery, for burial.  The men dig the hole with shovels while the women continue to wail.  They place the casket in and cover it with the dirt.

The cemetery looks like an overgrown garbage dump with many of the severely impoverish people living in it.  Garbage is everywhere, there are tarps and tin sheds for shelters strewed around the grave yard.  There is no organization of where someone is berried, it appears where ever a hole can be dug is the grave.  In fact on our way to a favorite local restaurant, we drive around the grave yard.  Many of the graves encroach on the road.  Most are unmarked and are just mounds of dirt, while some (presumably the wealthier) have cement poured over the grave with a cross or a marker.  No mater where you are in the world, and how common death is, we as humans do not like saying good bye to our loved ones.

Monkey Love

I needed to pick up some phone cards at a local corner store.  There are many corner stores in Juba, which sell can foods, dish soap, soda pop, and many other items.  They do not look like the local 7-11, most are in a tin shed on the side of the road.  So yesterday as I walked into the store I was greeted by a monkey.  The monkey was very friendly and wanted to shake my hand so I obliged.  I asked the owner who his friend was, and he responded Ramie, his helper.  I started to think of my daughters relationship to our Golden Retriever and saw how this young man trained and loved this monkey.  I asked the shop owner for the phone cards and he handed the Ramie the monkey the cards to bring them to me.  I handed the monkey the money.  The Ramie leaped across the store money in hand.  The owner gave Ramie the change and he came back to give it to me.  

I thanked the owner for his service and started to leave.  Apparently I offended the monkey as he was making noise and screaming.  Ramie wanted a high 5 before I left.  I obliged and every body was happy!

My morning wake-up

I have always been a early riser.  The best part of the day is the morning and I accomplish more in the first 3 hours of the day than I can for the rest of the day.  Ever since moving into my apartment, I have been waking up to two very distinct sounds.

The first is the honey wagon.  Every morning the sewage truck comes to the apartment complex to suck the sewage from the tank just before 6 AM.  It is extremely loud and parks right under my window.  The apartment vibrates for the 20 minutes it takes to empty the tank.  There is no sewage pipes in Juba, so this service is a necessity.  Unfortunately, the bi product is a oder that wofts into my apartment!

The other sound I awake to is the maintenance man beating on the burning barrel.  Again there is very little infrastructure in Juba, and while I have seen a couple garbage trucks, most people burn their garbage.  This gives the air a great smell of burning plastic!  The beating of the burning barrel happens at approximately 530AM.  The ashes are nocked out from the previous mornings burn and the garbage is loaded up and lit on fire right under my bedroom window.  No mater what is in the garbage is burnt.  That means if a discarded aerosol can is in the garbage it goes off like a gun.  I have gotten use to the sound of the mini explosions and don’t jump anymore.   The problem comes is the smell of burning garbage eventually ends up in my bedroom.  

I can hardly wait to be home and have a normal wake up of my six year old jumping into bed with us! 

Excuse me you dropped something!

I am standing in my favorite place in Juba, the bank.  As you have read previously, the bank is an extremely interesting place.

I had an interesting event just happen to me.  I am standing in line for a deposit, and have been here for the past 40 minutes with 2 more people till I am at the teller (so about 20 minutes!).  The guy behind me in line has his phone ring.  Africans have such funky ring tones!  As he answers his phone, I hear something drop and felt it hit me on the back of the foot.  I bend down to pick up the dropped object to find out he dropped his hand gun.  Before I am able to pick it up, the security guard picks up the gun for him.  The guard without hesitation says to him “excuse me you dropped your pistol!”.  The man is very ungrateful and rude as he was in a heated business call, grunted shoved his pistol back between his belt and waist and continued with his business.  

All I have to say is I am glad the gun didn’t shoot me in the foot when it fell and next time I hear something hit the floor in the bank (or anywhere for that matter) I am not going to pick it up unless it is mine!!

I am still doing it!

There is one reason I am sitting on the other side of the world at this moment.  It is to make a living and support my family.  While I love the different culture and travel aspect of being in Africa, I would much rather be at home with my loved ones.  My job is getting in the way of my African adventure for a few days as my workload has greatly increased.  I am not forgetting about the blog but it may slow down for a bit as I get busy.

Some local culture

To continue on the fun evening, we ventured into a more local establishment.  While it was getting very late, the entertainment was top notch.  A DJ spun and mixed local tunes while two very beautiful women did dance moves that I didn’t think the human body could perform.  I know what you are thinking, No It wasn’t a strip club!  The host was very comical and was putting on a show himself.  He would pull people out of the audience to join the act.  Of course as the only Caucasian people in the place, he pulled a few of my coworkers up into the act.  It was a lot of fun to be in a local establishment where every body was there to have fun and didn’t really care if you were black or white.

A sky full of stars

I had a lot of fun last night.  My co-workers and I decided that to celebrate Saturday night and the end of my malaria pills, we should go out on the town of Juba.  We offered our driver that we would each give him extra cash if he stayed late to get us around town.  He gladly accepted.  We hit a number of establishments and had much fun.  The hustle and bustle of Juba disappears at night, the roads are quiet and peaceful.  We ran in to other colleagues that we work with and know.  It is very interesting sitting around a table at a bar talking with people from all over the world.  There is almost every different nationality and culture present in this town.  Most are here for the work, and no matter where we are from in the world, we tend to share common interests and can carry on a interesting conversation.  

The bar we sat in is what I imagined colonial Africa to be.  A yard of mango trees, a large 3 story white house (which is a hotel, offices, and restaurant) with an open air bar/patio.  Large fans are running overhead to circulate the humid evening air (it was probably 34’C) and keep the mosquitoes away.  

I watched a brilliant full moon rise over the mango trees.  What a great sight.  One thing Africa has in familiar with home, is the beautiful night sky.  I think no matter where you are in the world, even though the constellations are in a different part of the celestial dome, the night sky is what links us all.

The Bank

Part of my job is to go to the bank.  The bank is an interesting place.  In Canada it is very orderly, civilized and quiet.  In South Sudan it is slow, hot, noisy and chaotic!  

As a Canadian, I was always taught to wait my turn and stand in line.  Line ups in Africa do exist, but they tend to be constantly evolving as people push, and cut line.  There is constant discussion about who was there first and how long the person has waited.  If you leave line to stand in another line, you apparently can come back and regain position in your first line.  The reason I am so obsessive about the line up, is at the bank  to do something as simple as a withdrawal of money takes 1-3 hours!  So I have a lot of time to observe the line

Another thing you don’t witness at a North American bank is people trying to haggle with the tellers about what their account balance should be or how much money they are owed.  There is as much haggling at the bank as the market.  

The massive wads of cash everyone is carrying around is also a common sight.  Life in Juba is very expensive.  Cost of living is similar to that of living in Canada. The difference is, the currency.  Many places use USD, but technically the local currency is the Sudan Pound.  The pound is worth 3.04 / $1USD at the bank today.  If you are adventurous, a person can obtain it for 3.45 / $1USD on the street.  While I have done a money exchange on the street, it is not a comfortable transaction, so I have a guy for that.  When ever I need money changed I give Alfred a call and he exchanges my money for me and if I ask, he will even bring produce from his fruit stand!  I do pay a slight penalty for this service but it is only $10 USD/$1000 exchange.  Totally worth the service!

The last thing I still haven’t gotten use to at the bank is, no one teller can provide you with every thing you need.  One teller for a withdrawal, another for a statement of your account.  So once you have your money in hand, you join another line to get your balance!!  There goes another hour!!!!

Malaria is not fun

I am now on my third day of malaria.  It is not fun.  I feel like I might be starting to get better, but my job and employees are getting in the way of a quicker recovery!  At night, the fever, aches and pains makes it hard to sleep.  I also have caught a head cold along with the nasty parasite.  This just compounds the discomfort!  My driver didn't feel well, so I sent him to the clinic to get checked and treated.  I told him I would pay for it because he makes a very low wage and I need to keep him healthy.  He came back with a receipt, and diagnosis for malaria, cholera and mild typhoid fever.  It cost approximately $50 USD to cure him and he is taking 12 pills a day!  I went out and out of my own pocket bought him a proper bug net because he didn't have one.  At least that will decrease the likely hood of the malaria.

And I thought I felt like crap!!!

Fingers crossed tomorrow will be a better day!!

The Multi purpose street

3The streets in South Sudan are used for many other purposes than driving on.  Driving on the streets tends to be the least desirable thing one can do on the streets due to them being in such disrepair!  Here are some observations of things I have seen the streets used for in Juba:

• a garbage dump (any refuse tends to end out in the streets and ground into the dirt, anything from old shoes, clothing, rotten food, bones, paper and the worst offender plastic water bottles)
• business (much business is done on the streets.  Selling cheap jewelry, phone cards etc)
• play ground (children play in the streets, run around traffic and it is no big deal here!)
• social spot (many conversations, social meetings occur on the streets, neighbors meet and greet and catch up on the day)
• sewer (most areas of Juba do not have sewage systems, so it is either us a holding tank or just drain sewage to the streets.  If it has not rained don’t step in the wet areas!)
• dog breeding area (there are no abundance of wild dogs on the streets of Juba.  Many nights you can hear them barking or howling)
• a laundry room (the streets are very dusty here.  But people have no place to do laundry.  Often they are seen scrubbing their clothing in buckets then hanging it to dry.  Did you know conserteen wire is a great clothing hangar!)
• In rare cases a Cemetery (in one case on our way into a restaurant we frequent, the cemetery intrudes on to the road.  While driving on the road, you are actually driving over some of the grave sites.  It makes for some interesting smells and a VERY bumpy ride!)

The true African Experience!

The last 24 hours I started to feel a head cold coming on.  I am extremely busy at work the past few day as my job has almost doubled with some company restructuring.  As I do at home, I just sucked it up and continued to work through it.  This afternoon rolls around and I started to feel the fever, aches and pains come on.  One of my coworkers thought I should go to the clinic, to get checked out for malaria.

For malaria, it is best to find a local clean clinic for a test.  They see so many tests and can spot it when North American doctors can’t.  My co-worker, who has spent more time in Africa than out in the past 3 years came for a test also as he is leaving in 2 days.  

Of course the newbie (me the big white dinka) comes back with a positive test for the nasty blood born parasite!  The test took seconds, the wait for results, 10 minutes and the cost was 30 Pounds or approx. $10USD.  The medication to cure it was 10 pounds or $3.30 USD!  I expect in a day or two to feel back to normal!

The man in the clinic told me, “Hey man, you haven’t been to Africa till you get malaria”!

My new African Nickname!

I have been fascinated with our security guard at the apartment complex since I arrived.  He is about the most un-intimidating person I could put as a security guard.  He always has a great big smile and a goofy wave as I come and go.  Even when he has his gun on his lap, I still find him un-intimidating (don’t tell him that though!) and kinda goofy looking.

Picture this, he is 6 foot 8 inches tall, the blackest complexion I have ever seen, feet larger than big foot, hair shaved down to the scalp and is built like a bean pole.  In fact soaking wet he might weigh 100 lbs!  Yet he is healthy looking and does not appear to be underfeed or malnourished.

Today on my way in, I stopped and had a talk with him and formally introduced myself.  He demanded I sit, so he handed me his AK47, and ran around the corner to get a chair.  So their I am, a Kawaja standing on a busy street corner with a fully loaded AK-47, in a third world country waiting for the bean pole to fetch me a folding lawn chair with one arm broken off.  He sets it up beside his milk crate and demands I sit.  I hand him his gun back and take a seat.  I already knew this was going to be interesting!!!

Rahunie, (I had to get him to write it down) is the youngest of 5 siblings, he is the runt of the men in his family.  Believe it or not his father is 7 foot 2 inches!!!  He is a Dinka, which is a traditional tribe in Sudan.  They are people who have fought hard for their land and way of living.  Rahunie fought his first war when he was 7 years old!  He lives in a traditional round mud hut with a grass roof on the out skirts of Juba.  I asked him if he was excited about the separation, and Independence of his country.  He stressed to me he and his people have suffered for decades and have had to pick up arms to fight for their rights.  The government of the north didn’t care about them and they were forced to fight in a revolution that ended with a peace treaty in 2005.  He felt with the change of governments and a new beginning in the south the country was going to change for the good.

Rahunie was fascinated with where I was from.  I tried to explain the concept of a society where we don’t need to protect buildings of expats with guns.  Where the gun, he casually had leaning on his leg had more fire power than what our police generally carry.  He asked me how old I was when I first fought a war, and I explained I have never been in a war and have never been this close to a semi-automatic weapon.  He was absolutely fascinated.  He wondered how my child would learn to fire a weapon and defend their self with me not having these skills.  (He kind of made me feel like a bad dad, that I hand’t taught my 6 year old how to fire a AK47!).  I explained how we in Canada had a revolution not unlike what Southern Sudan went through, ours ended close to 150 years ago and since then we have lived in peace.  While we may not agree with our government all the time, they don’t anger us to the point of picking up arms.  

We continued our conversation for many more minutes and he started to understand our Canadian, peaceful way of thinking.  Just before we said good bye, he really wanted to tell me something, but did not want to offend me.  I exclaimed, nothing offends me!  Rahunie thought I was one of the tallest Kawaja’s he ever saw.  I reminded him of a Dinka Warrior, due to my tall, skinny build.

Due to this, he now calls me the “Big White Dinka”.  Yes it is true I have a African nick name!!

The pride of their new country - Patriotism on a whole new level!!

Today was the first day I really saw visible celebrations of South Sudan’s Independence.  The business I am in is full out or total boredom, and today was one of full out and I didn’t have any spare time on my hands to enjoy.  But during my travels around town, I saw many pickups, driving around town with the new flag of South Sudan flying off it, music blaring, and many people in the back of the trucks hooting and hollering.  Citizens are wearing teeshirts with their new flag on.  

While in the bank standing in line for an hour, I was touched when the many of the locals broke out into corse of the new national anthem because they heard a passing by truck with playing it.  By the way it was obviously payday for SPLA soldiers because the bank was chuck full of them!

The funniest sight I saw was a guy running around town with a pair of small flag poles some how strapped to his back flying his countries new flag.  His hat was a flag wrapped around his head.  The most comical was he wrapped himself in the flag, but one very crucial piece of his anatomy was not wrapped!!!  It was at full mast with its own flag flying!!

The party is over but a country is just starting

It is late afternoon.  I am sitting on my balcony watching a massive equatorial thunderstorm blast its way across the countryside.  Everyone is just returning from the Independence Day celebrations.  I could hear the loud speakers and the crowd cheer from here.  If it was up to me I would have been there to witness history in the making.

Everyone on the streets has a national flag and is proudly waving and cheering.  The mood is of great excitement.  I went for a walk this afternoon, everyone is extremely excited and friendly.  The military are everywhere with their guns today, but they are smiling and waving at people rather than stern faced and harassing.   I hope people remain this jubilant and try to make South Sudan work.  

Independence Day is here!

July 9th, Independence Day is here for South Sudan.  It is a birth of a new nation!!  I write my blog 5 or 6 days before you actually read it so I Independence Day isn’t actually here yet, and I am sure I’ll have some good stories about the day.  The company will sent all our employees to another location in South Sudan, but I'll remain alone in Juba.

In the days leading up to the big day I am noticing more troop movements, guns are again visible with soldiers, and anti-aircraft guns are being moved and positioned around town.  With that said, people are painting buildings, sweeping the streets, picking up garbage, putting up signs, and driving in the streets blasting music with their new flag flying off the vehicle.  Many citizens are proud to have a new country, but are also skeptical of the politics.  

There are many possibilities and rumors floating around how this day is going to go off.  I hope for the sake of South Sudan (and myself), it is a peaceful day of celebration.  But as one of the  billboards on a round about near us says “It took a combination of bullets and ballots to earn our hard earned independence.”.  

___

Edit:  The above I actually wrote days ago, but as I sit on my balcony watching the sun set behind the mountains of South Sudan this is what I felt.

July 8th, 2011

I am sitting in my apartment in Juba.  The sun has set.  The next time the sun rises, Juba will be in a new country of South Sudan.  With the crack of dawn, is literally a birth of a new country.  The struggles that these people in South Sudan have gone through have been massive.  They have been engaged for many years in civil war, rebellions, and dishonest government rule.  Many of their friends, families and neighbors have suffered or perished.  Only time will tell weather the people of this new country can organize, prosper, and create a society that will shame the people from the North, who once ignored and degraded them.  

With the sun rise I hope comes a new day in history for this new country they call South Sudan and the end of poverty, suffering and war.

The hike to the Mountain - Rock City Part 2

As we make it through Rock City, I start to notice the mud huts are not the only things that occupy this area.  Numerous anti-aircraft batterments have been placed right in the middle of these neighborhoods.  The theory is hide it in civilian areas and the potential enemy would most likely not see it.  The soldiers were polite and greeted us with a “Good Morning Kawaja”.  

The climb up was hot and steep.  I am still not fully acclimatized to Sudan heat!  After one rest stop on the way up, we made the summit.  What a view!!  I also learned even when the wind blows at a few miles per hour, it’s in the mid 30”C range and you sweat you actually can catch a chill.  It felt great!!  As we sat on the summit resting for the trip home, this massive explosion occurred near us.  I hit the deck thinking it was a shell or bomb.  My co-worker laughed, apparently they blast in these mountains to separate the rock for gravel.

The way down was much easier.  I saw a few unidentified animals that looked much like a large guinea pig, a wild bore, and some monkey’s.  We make it back trough Rock City and head back into Juba.  I found the area of Juba that maybe the hottest!  The road into town from the mountain!! It is dusty, dry, sandy and not a breath of air!  After a few hours of walking across town, we made it home.  I stood in the shower for 10 minutes to bring my core temperature down, and laid down for a nap!  I only drank 6 liters of water while walking, I guess it is not enough for a 5 hour walk in the Equatorial sun!!

The Hike to the Mountain - Rock City Part 1

Today was another day of standby.  Once we were certain we weren’t working, a co-worker and I decided to go for a hike.  This wasn’t any hike, after Google Mapping the route,  it was a 21.8 km hike in the 38’C sun up a mountain.  Juba while on very flat ground, has a number of mountains off in the distance.  These mountains are 1700-1800 feet higher than the plains.  

The walk out took us through many typical neighborhoods on the way to the mountain.  People live in mud/dung walled huts with straw grass roofs.  These huts are roughly 15 ft in diameter and will often have many people living in them.  It is so fascinating walking through a neighborhood that people don’t see white people in often.  The children would run to stare at us, as many have never seen a white man before.  These kids were fascinated by us as we were with them.  They would yell out to their friends and family “Kawaja”, which in local dialect means white man.  Many would run up and wish us a “good morning kawaja”.   One thing I have noticed is it doesn’t matter what time of day it is people always wish you a good morning.  

As we neared the mountain, we came into the part of Juba referred to as “Rock City”.  Rock City is an area that people make a living crushing large boulders into gravel.  What happens is workers climb the mountains and roll large boulders down the mountain.  These boulders eventually are split into many pieces and hand carried down to Rock City where mostly women sit and hammer away at these rocks chipping off gravel size fragments.  They hammer with mallets, an old axel, pieces of rock or anything they can get their hands on.  These women often have many children running around, while the men are up the mountains getting rocks.  All around their mud huts are piles of gravel they have broken up.  The piles are extremely neat, all divided up by type of rock and gravel size.  Each pile is of identical size for sale on the market.  

Bows and Arrows

Today, was another day of troop buildup around town.  I knew when I was leaving the hotel, things were less stable again due to the hotel being guarded with military again.  The past two days I haven’t seen a gun anywhere, again today they are everywhere.  This is the lack of stability people of the South Sudan live with everyday.  Citizens are on the edge all the time.  

I talked our drive into taking a back way to our job location to avoid the congestion that was ensuing on the streets.  He took us down narrow, bumpy single lane dirt roads in some very out of the way neighborhoods, but in the end we avoided the bulk of the traffic.  

The troops were dressed in a different uniform than the deployment a few days ago.  These guys appeared to be less disciplined, dirty and a lot less interested in harassing people.  They appeared to be going door to door, business to business and searching for something.  

On the way home from work I witnessed a number of locals being brought out of a business under gun point.  The military brass was holding in their hands some very simple hunting bow’s and handmade arrows.  I guess with the political changes happening the government wants to be sure that they are secure and a new rebellion is not going to happen.  

Out to Lunch

Today I had a fairly light work day again.  A few co-workers and I decided to head for a mid-day lunch.  We went to the DaVinci Restaurant on the banks of the White Nile River.  The restaurant is open air and is under a canopy of old growth mango trees.  We sat with this beautiful vista of the Nile rushing by, the bridge heading out of town, mud huts with a backdrop of mountains off in the distance.

The food was extraordinary.  I don’t believe I could have had a better meal in North America.  I had a vegetable, calamari stir-fry that was amazing!  The prices at this restaurant were very high, but they were still half of what you would pay at a comparable North American restaurant of this caliber.  Plus you could never get a view and atmosphere like that at home!!

On the way out of DaVinci’s I got talking to a local man who does fishing charters on the Nile and would take us out for some Nile perch fishing.  These are not like the perch at home, they are huge with big teeth!!  It looks like it would be a lot of fun and a few of us are going to try to fit this into a day off.

My adventurous coworker and I decided to walk home from DaVinci’s and the other two went with the driver home.  The walk was approximately 20 minutes, through an area where people live in mud huts with grass roofs.  The Government of South Sudan (GOSS) is knocking down many of these tradition settlements around Juba.  They are claiming these settlements are on government land and many of these people are the ones that are hoarding weapons and causing crime.  To me they looked extremely impoverished.  When a person is put into the position of survival for themselves and family they do what they have to.  I know I would!  So instead of helping these settlements of families, the government shows up with no notice and bulldozes these parts of town for new development.  Really sad they are loosing tradition and making people homeless for the sake of development.

As we got closer to our office, we came across a older woman with a stick.  Obviously high on some type of drug and "out to lunch".  I have seen here (in Sudan) and in Uganda what I think is opium that street vendors sell in pods that are dried up.  It is chewed and the person is constantly spitting all over the place.  Most often this is done right out in public.  Back to the old woman with the stick.  She did not want us whites walking through her neighborhood.  We could see that right away, so we crossed the road and kept walking.  She yelled many obscenities in Arabic. We kept walking.  Next thing I know she smacked me in butt with the stick, I turn around a little ticked off and she was already gone!  We had a good laugh about that incident and went back to work.

Happy 4th of July! Happy Independence Day!

I have been amazed the admiration people in at least Juba, Kompalia and Entebbe have for President Obama.  I don't know why but I just assumed this part of the world would hate the USA and anything attached to it.  I am constantly spotting t-shirts with Obama's picture on it.  Photos are all over the place of him and his wife.  Girls wear jeans with OBAMA written on their butts.  I have asked a few of our drivers about what they think of President Obama and the USA, all of them have been very clear they admire the man.  Previous presidents were not liked at all.  They have all said, it is impressive to see a black man as the president of the worlds most powerful nation.

As Southern Sudan approaches Independence Day on July 9th I hope that this country can find its place in the world.  I would hate to see it loose it's culture or go back into civil war.  There are going to be major growing pains to establish a new country, develop infrastructure, education, healthcare, employment but I hope the citizens are patient.

Out for a walk on the streets.

Today is our day off.  I feel like I have been on holidays since I got here!  I’m sure I’ll have busy times coming.  I finally slept a full night.  Since departing Canada, five days ago, I slept a total of 12 hours.  While I didn’t feel over tired, I knew lack of rest was catching up to me.  

After rolling out of bed late this morning (930 am), I showered, shaved and got dressed.  I walked over to the office to quickly check in and fill my water bottle up.  The heat today is horrendous!  My guess on the temperature is somewhere around the high 30’C range and I would bet by afternoon it will be easily 40’C!

Before it got to hot I decide to go for a walk on the streets.  This is something I have tried to do everywhere I have travelled and is the best way to really see the area.  Since I don’t really know where I am, I just started to walk down the street which I was staying.  

First thing, streets in Juba are not paved for the most part, only a handful are.  The dirt roads are littered with garbage that has been ground right in, there are puddles of water even though it has not rained for days.  There is no sewage system and homes will have a pipe out the side wall that runs into the street.  So don’t step in the wet areas!!.  Traffic drives on the right side of the road in this country, but it doesn’t matter, while dodging mounds of dirt, huge rocks, people, dogs, garbage, sewage, chunks of metal, or constant potholes the passing vehicles end up snaking their way all over the place.  

As I make my way further from my hotel, I see many roadside shacks, some are business, and some are homes.  Many have been made out of tin or other junk they can salvage.  I do get stares as I walk around.  I don’t think they see many white people walking around this part of town.  But saying that, nobody bothers me and some even greet me saying “Good Morning”.  I continue to walk and end up at a local market.  There are many strange fruits and vegetables.  Again with the chaos! People are reaching, pushing, haggling, vehicles are honking, police are ticketing vehicles, motorcycles (boda boda) are ripping around.  This is truly where local trade happens.  It is interesting to see where locals go to get their food.  Yesterday I went to an expat grocery store that reminded me of a general store in Northern Ontario to shop.  I could get most things I get at home.  The people in the market have a much different selection!  I watched a guy trade some identifiable fruit for some goats.  Now he had to get them home.  Who wants to put goats in your van?  So instead he lifted them up to the roof rack and tied them on.  I watched the van drive off with two goats baahing away.  There was a lot of sugar cane, and charcoal for sale also. 

I kept walking and I end up at the port on the Nile River.  There, barges were being off loaded of sacks of grain, building supplies, animals, and piles of fruit.  

As I kept walking, I start to realize I might be a little lost.  I am starting to get very heat exhausted but am determined to not have to call our driver to come and pick me up in a strange part of town!  I finally cross something that looked familiar from earlier in the walk and find my way back to the hotel drenched in sweet.  I hand the security guard of the hotel the bottle of water I had.  He looked hotter than I did.  He gives me a huge smile and thanks me over and over.  I run up to the air-conditioned surrounding of my hotel to have another shower and rest.

The Local Market and a New Appreciation for Canada Day.

This morning, a co-worker and I went to a local market.  My co-worker has a huge amount of experience on this continent and believes in shopping locally as much as possible rather than supporting the “western style” grocery stores that are owned by out of country interests.  The market that I had previously found during my walks, was only the face of this massive open air shopping mall.  We toured deep into the narrow maze of shops and stands.  There were shops that sold shoes, clothes , electronics, tacky novelties, and food of all types.  The floor was dirt and the roof was a laberant of tarps put together to cover the merchandise from the rain or sun.  

The clothing stores sold “western style” clothing that appeared and felt to be good quality.  A person could also purchase traditional tribal and islamic garb.  If nothing on the racks suited or fit you, tailors were sewing together outfits.

The shoe section would drive my wife nuts!  Every style of shoes imaginable, from athletic to hiking boots to formal ladies shoes to fashionable dress shoes.  Prices were about 1/4 of what we would pay in Canada for the same.  Again, you could even get shoes custom made for less than we would pay for the comparable.

What fascinated me the most was the food section.  Talking about a overload on the scenes!  The smells were anywhere from lovely to putrid!  My co-worker (who frequently buys his food here) showed me what I could eat and what to stay away from.  I must admit, there where very few fruits I had ever seen before or for that matter heard of.  Since I am staying in a hotel room and can’t cook for another week, I refrained from buying much, besides bananas.  Surprisingly, the shop owners didn’t raise their prices just because we were weren’t locals.

As each day passes, I feel a little more comfortable being the minority.  I have learned a little bit of Arabic and can sense when I should continue to walk!


One last thing, HAPPY CANADA DAY!!!!!!  Canada is 144 years old!!   I am presently in a country that is going to celebrate it's day of birth in 9 days and Canada day this year has a lot more meaning.  Even though we are over taxed, live in a cold climate, have perpetual problems with our government, we are truly very lucky to live in such a healthy, clean and prosperous place.