Home Sweet Home South Sudan

I’ve been back in South Sudan for a week and a half now. About 1/3 of that time has been spent in Juba and 1/3 in Mundri and 5/3 has been spent traveling between and around Mundri and Juba.

These thirds of my life have included the following events:

·      One (1) motorcycle wipe-out with Repent into the sand (plus several more close calls—riding in sand is hard).

·      Sustained one (1) small side of the knee scrape due to aforementioned wipe-out.

·      Had one (1) moment of thanks for lack of paved roads in South Sudan, which I later recanted on one (1) or more (++++) of the to/from Juba journeys.

·      One (1) giant black spider crawled up my leg while I was showering, carefully persevering water since our pump is broken. My eyes were closed and I thought gravity had started working backwards and sending water droplets up my leg instead of down. I looked to see if that was the case, and screamed and swore (I’m sorry, Mom, but I’m honest) and shook my leg and jumped around (dangerous in a slippery bathroom with buckets all over catching extra water).

·      Killed one (1) giant spider and washed it down the drain.

·      Attended one (1) funeral prayer time, which included more than 1 (++++) sermon and/or stand-up comedy routine.  It was not a typical funeral.

·      Rode to church on a four (4)-wheeler. How did YOU get to church last Sunday?

·      One (1) mouse ran across my face one (1) night. He had four (4) feet. I felt them on my cheek.

·      The drilling team killed one (1) mouse in my house, leaving one (1) more.  His days are numbered.

·      Got a new yellow fever card. I have only lost two (2) yellow fever cards in the last year. Current card is now officially stapled into the back of my passport. Try and steal it one more time, KENYA AIRPORT OFFICIALS!

·      Updated my visa.

·      Decided to learn how to cook with cassava/tapioca flour because Paleo recipes exist, whether or not anyone wants them to, and cassava flour is way cheaper here.

Juba Bus Station (aka Parking)

Other important things to note, Jackson loves to go get visas with me. I know, he told me. He said, “It’s so great that you can talk to people in Juba Arabic and Moru. They will always remember you now and they will want to help you.” It’s true. Languages open doors and also can get things done even when government officials put in a full two-hour (2) working day and then go home to recover from it, in spite of telling people to come back after lunch to finish paperwork. Jackson also loves that I can schmooze visa officials. It is a skill I have honed over the decades. I think my parents started us off on it, because I definitely remember being forced into stupid dresses to go to the immigration office in Indonesia for endless fingerprints and name-signing documents. That’s why my signature looks like a squiggle. Comfort and convenience over fear of my identity being stolen any time.

Visa stuff is not bad, but trips between Mundri and Juba always have the potential to be the worst ever.  I mean, you know this, all five (5) of you that read this blog: trips to Mundri/Juba are almost always noteworthy. If I have to suffer, I will make you read about it.

Stop thinking about passing me
and think about the children instead.
But maybe less thinking about the children
and more thinking about basic mechanics
would have made this a better van.

I have lucked out and been able to find people driving to and from that I can hitch rides with, but this time there wasn’t anyone left bring me back to Mundri. I tried to convince Jackson (a Moru) that he really wanted to drive me back to Mundri and say ‘hi’ to all the cool people, but he is not a government official and believes in the importance of actually working at his job. So I had to Mundri Express it. Repent T called the company on my behalf to reserve a front window seat in the Land Cruiser that was scheduled to head back to Mundri.

Once at the bus station in Juba, I sat and waited a bit until Mahmood (the head of the Mundri Express office), asked me to please PLEASE go in the van that was sitting in front of the office, as his land cruiser wouldn’t be ready to go for a while. I said, “That short-tired vehicle? I don’t think that can make it to Mundri.”

“No, no—it is a strong vehicle. It will make it! And it’s leaving now now.  If you don’t go, you will wait much later.”

Our broken van in the middle of what is a rushing
river during rainy season. Tipped over truck behind.

I thought—might as well go now as sit here in the Mundri Express shack and wait for the other bus. But that was not a smart thought.  We did leave the bus station a bit before 10am, but we went and sat at another station for another hour. When we finally got on the road, we broke down 15 minutes outside of Juba, but the guy fixed it really quickly, so I was only slightly worried. Also, I got to take a moment to go pee in the grass, so it wasn’t so bad. Then 15 minutes later we broke down one the Luri River. If it had been rainy season, we would have been swept away in the current. Also, I noted that the driver said, “Oh look at that tipped over truck!” And I was VERY WORRIED at that point because that tipped over truck has been there for a long time.  One (1) who travels that road a lot should definitely know that. At this point, I called Mahmood and said, “I told you so. Now send that other Land Cruiser to pick me up.” He promised to do so, but meanwhile, our car was up and putting along. I checked the speedometer and we didn’t break 20kmh ever. We stopped more than once. Mahmood called and said to the guy, “Just put that khawaja on any other land cruiser that comes by and I’ll pay for it.” I told him, “There are 10 other people in this van!” But he didn’t care about them because I don’t think they actually paid through Mundri Express, but direct to the driver. I don’t like being a diva khawaja, but I also didn’t want to spend the night on the road, and I’m pretty sure that is what happened to everyone who stayed in the van. As it turns out, I didn’t have to play the diva khawaja card. As we were standing out by the side of the road waiting for the car to be fixed again, a car saw my shining, burning white skin and swerved over.

We filled up with Pity Oil before we left. Should have been my first clue.

“Hey, you are from Mundri! You just drilled a well in our village! Get in the car—we’ll take you!” But I still looked like a diva khawaja getting into a better car, even though another guy in the van who also knew the driver also came along for the ride.

Driving the car!

And that’s how I ended up making it back to Mundri yesterday. I even helped out—I drove the car the last 40 miles. It was a right-hand side driver seat for a right-side of the road driving system, but really—I kept the steering wheel in the middle of the road plenty because the point of driving on roads here is not staying in your lane, but finding the least bumpy part of the road. I slid off the road once because of the sand, but was able to drive back onto the road to the great amusement of everyone else in the car. They also found it hilarious that I refused to drive over a crater that needed precariously accurate steering. You know about my hand-eye coordination. I helped drill a well for the guy, but that is not enough to smooth over wrecking his car. It was also really weird to drive a automatic car here. I kept smashing at the floorboards with my left foot, looking for the clutch. I also noticed that in spite of my best efforts, it was REALLY hard to get up over 20kmh. I maxed out at 50kmh on a particularly smoothish stretch, but then the car started fishtailing a bit in the sand, so I slowed down.

And that’s it! I’m back and I made an extensive schedule for next week, of which I hope to accomplish at least 50%. Someone who might be able to fix our pump will come on Monday. Diet Pepsi might still be available in the market here. My computer is almost fully charged. I ran six miles through sand pits this morning with a glorious sunrise in the background.   The market place “music” lovers played Justin Bieber last night and I contemplated committing felony destruction of property, but fortunately my ear plugs and white noise app and surround fan blocked out the11pm-4am music, allowing me to sleep mostly. And no (0) mice ran over my face last night.