So you don't have to spend any time in Kenya to know that the Kenyans are fanatical about Obama! I mean, seriously. After Obama had clenched the elections, the Kenyan government declared a public holiday to celebrate his victory which means our Nairobi office closed for the day. So, yeah - I was in the bush in Sudan working while my Nairobi staff took the day off to celebrate my president-elect.
When I arrived at the Lokichoggio airport and awaited my passport processing, an Obama calendar was hanging in sight. And today, when I was getting my morning coffee (oh, the joys of Nairobi!), I passed an art store with a poster-size portrait painting of Obama - it was impressive! I'm telling you - no time has been wasted.
I hope the expectations we all have for him are not too high. Honestly, I think they would be too high for anyone.
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
Monday, November 17, 2008
Hippos, weight loss and guilt
Sometimes, I feel guilty. I had a nice trip to one of our fieldtrips, Kodok the week before last. It was quite eventful. I could hear the hippos grazing from the Nile uncomfortably close to my tent. I watched as the watchman killed two snakes (one of which was a black mamba – FYI very poisonous!) and I lost some weight – due to both a relentless stomach bug and a 3 hour walk through the nothingness which is rural Southern Sudan when our car broke down.
As I mentioned before, I’m not one for “roughing it.” Despite always retrospectively loving my experience in the field, part of me always counts down the days I’ll be back in Juba. When we run out of water or have to eat ugali 5 days in a row in Juba, I count down the days until I’m back in Nairobi, and when we have the day-long power outages or I get hassled for a bribe because the traffic police insist my seatbelt isn’t on (when it’s been fastened for 30 minutes!) in Nairobi, I count down the days until I’m in the US or visiting friends in the UK.
I have the advantage of escapism that comes in a few months, a few weeks or a few days. The Sudanese don’t. The Africans don’t. Each hardship isn’t a hardship – it’s life. There is no looking forward to a flight to the UK, a cocktail on the East African coast or a holiday in Paris – there is the knowledge that the same hardwork exhibited today to provide your family the necessities of life will be required tomorrow – the knowledge that the borehole is a 10k walk, that your child could die from something that is entirely preventable in other countries or that your opportunity of education is hindered by lack of teachers and teacher payroll.
This “temporary-ness” of my time in Africa brings me immense joy and immense sorrow, and as we approach Thanksgiving, I’m thankful that I am from the United States – that I’ve had every opportunity life has to offer. More than that, though, I’m thankful that I’ve called Sudan my home for over 15 months. I’m thankful that I’ve crossed paths and formed relationships with some of the most inspiring and resilient people in the world.
As I mentioned before, I’m not one for “roughing it.” Despite always retrospectively loving my experience in the field, part of me always counts down the days I’ll be back in Juba. When we run out of water or have to eat ugali 5 days in a row in Juba, I count down the days until I’m back in Nairobi, and when we have the day-long power outages or I get hassled for a bribe because the traffic police insist my seatbelt isn’t on (when it’s been fastened for 30 minutes!) in Nairobi, I count down the days until I’m in the US or visiting friends in the UK.
I have the advantage of escapism that comes in a few months, a few weeks or a few days. The Sudanese don’t. The Africans don’t. Each hardship isn’t a hardship – it’s life. There is no looking forward to a flight to the UK, a cocktail on the East African coast or a holiday in Paris – there is the knowledge that the same hardwork exhibited today to provide your family the necessities of life will be required tomorrow – the knowledge that the borehole is a 10k walk, that your child could die from something that is entirely preventable in other countries or that your opportunity of education is hindered by lack of teachers and teacher payroll.
This “temporary-ness” of my time in Africa brings me immense joy and immense sorrow, and as we approach Thanksgiving, I’m thankful that I am from the United States – that I’ve had every opportunity life has to offer. More than that, though, I’m thankful that I’ve called Sudan my home for over 15 months. I’m thankful that I’ve crossed paths and formed relationships with some of the most inspiring and resilient people in the world.
Friday, November 7, 2008
Will you marry me?
I received my first marriage proporal today. I was visiting a health clinic and one of the workers asked me if he could marry me. He was probably around 40, Sudanese. He said he would give my family 10 cows. I told him I thought my father probably felt I was worth more than that. He didn't increase the offer.
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