Stepping Out

I’ve already told you a bit about Davido, but I have to say I am grateful for him. And for Stacey. Between the two of them I got up the courage to go for a walk Saturday morning. Sounds silly, doesn’t it? I love walking and hiking.

Well, here’s the thing. All week I have been feeling wicked isolated and restless. I go from the compound I live at to the compound I work in. Back and forth. Nothing else really. And I see and interact with very few people. Not something I am used to. And I feel like I’m not truly seeing much of the community here, or of South Sudan.

So, by Thursday I am crawling the walls of the compound (not literally). I’ve had enough. Enough of feeling confined and isolated. I had already asked to go to lunch outside the work compound on Friday, instead of returning to my compound. Now I needed to make another move.

Stacey has been a great source of encouragement. And she gets my restless nature. She listens, encourages, and kicks my butt the way I need her to. So, when I whine to her about the situation, she tells me what I need to hear.

Friday when Davido is driving me, he again mentions playing soccer on Saturday. Again, he tells me I should come. I decide to take him up on this. When he drops me off at the compound Friday evening, we exchange numbers so we can meet up the next morning.

The thing is he wants to meet at 6am. At first this does not make sense to me. 6am on a Saturday?! I want to sleep. But this is what time they get there. Grudgingly I agree to 6:30. It will be light by then. And it means I can sleep just a smidge longer.

At 6:30 I walk to the soccer field. It is close to my compound and takes just a few minutes to get there on foot. But this is the first time I have walked outside the compound on my own. I have always had someone with me before now.

I was told to always have someone with me. All those security briefings I got before coming to South Sudan... However, I was also told very different things once I got to Yambio. I have chatted with several of the women from the US who have been here longer than I have, one of which has been here 6 years. They go out by themselves. Just be smart.

I’ve got this. I walk through the gates of the compound and out onto the dirt road that leads to the soccer pitch. The walk is quick and quiet. There are a few people on the road but not many. The dust has yet to be kicked up so the air is clear and cool. It’s in the 70s then. The perfect temperature.

At the soccer pitch there are two games underway already. Both groups are all males play soccer. The first group is younger, so I bypass them and walk towards the larger field. Here there are stone stands and I make my way onto them.

I watch the team play. A few people stop and look at me during a pause. Two wave. I have no idea who they are. I cannot tell from where I am standing if I know them. Here people wave a lot, and greet people. It is part of the culture. So, I don’t know if either person is Davido.

I decide to hang out and watch the game. There are a few other people watching, all guys. I am the only female around, that I can see. I am certainly the only white person around. This is not unusual. I am often the only white person around.

There are plenty of days where I don’t see another white person. It’s both weird and interesting. There are other white people here but we are few and far between. I’m actually glad of this. The culture has yet to be overrun with westerners. I’ll explain why I like that some other time, but for now understand that it means I get to see more of the authentic and real South Sudan. Not a commercial version of a country.

I watch the game. It is fast-paced and they are all energetic. A few minutes into it I hear a familiar voice out on the field. Pretty sure it is Davido. A few minutes later someone calls his name. Okay, I have figured out which player he is, though from where I am standing I cannot see his face but I do know his voice and I have figured out that this voice is wearing a red shirt with long blue socks and grey shorts. I watch Davido and the others play.

The game is briefly interrupted when a herd of cattle come walking through the pitch. None of the players seem confused or even put off by this. I, on the other hand, and both excited and confused when I see all of these cattle walking through the pitch. Naturally, I grab my phone and snap some photos.

After all of the cattle pass, the game starts as though nothing happened. However, there are small physical reminders in the form of cow pies on the field. Those are avoided. The game goes on. I don’t know what the score was, if they kept one. It was fun to watch and the players were all pretty good. I think they at least had one goal on each side.

And just as suddenly as the cattle came and stopped the game, the game again stops. The players are stretching and chatting with each other. They are done for the day. They start to head off the pitch towards where I am standing. I say hi to Davido and then another colleague from work who I didn’t realize was playing. Maybe these were the two people who waved at me when I got here. I don’t know.

But Davido makes a comment about why I am not working out, and instead watching the game. This is the second time he has made a comment about me working out or being a larger woman. The first was about me not squishing in the back seat of the truck with two other people and then about today exercising. I don’t know if I am being overly sensitive or if there is a language issue going on again (he and I do have some fun lost in translation moments), or if it was more a matter of just asking what I was doing. Whatever it was, I don’t sense any negativity or judgement in his statement. He goes back to the team and to chatting.

I decide that it is time for me to start exploring. How am I supposed to understand the culture and the people of the community I am living in and expected to treat if I barely see the people and I don’t experience their culture? One of the best ways I have always found, to learning about a place, is walking around, exploring, and wandering. I often did this in Galway and found I got to know it better and see more by doing this.

However, here things are different. Yambio has no paved road, no street signs, no maps. I know some of the roads from different drives I have gone on, to and from the hospital, PHC, and other offices, which helps a bit. I decide to start small and walk around the block nearest the pitch and near my compound.

It doesn’t take me long to figure out those roads. And I discover how to get to the market on foot. I also passed the giant pineapple on top of a large square South Sudan flag, that makes up one of the two roundabouts that I have found here. I use this as a point of reference. I know if I were to walk down one section of the road, I would get to the PHC, but I am not going to walk that way today.

I decide to head out in a different direction from the pitch once I walk the first lap. I take a side street that is rutted and eventually turns into a walking path. I have gone past it almost every day on the way to work. It is very pretty looking. This morning the sunlight is casting rays of light through some of the large trees on the sides of the road. I pass several people and many family compounds as I walk. There are also a few little shops along the walk.

At one point when the path all but seemed to disappear and like it might go into a yard. I was going to turn around. However, a man who had just passed me, gestured that I should keep walking. He told me that the path was up ahead and turned. He was right of course.

I followed the path as it curved. I passed several people. The village seemed to be waking up and starting its day. I spoke to a few people and said hi to many people. Many people watched me as I walked. The path came out on the main road near my compound. Alright! I know a little more. Even better, I saw more of the community.

I walked towards the compound but decided that since it was barely 8am I wanted to walk a little while longer. I turned around and once more headed in the direction of the pitch. A few people talked to me. One guy asked me if I needed a ride. Here taxis are motor bikes. They are everywhere. I told him I was good and headed on my way.

I ended up walking about half way to my office. It didn’t take me long. I could easily walk to work if I wanted to. I turned around and headed back, diverting slightly to try another road near the pitch. This one put me even closer to the market. Perfect.

I didn’t stop in the market but I made plans to. I will be grateful to go there and not feel rushed or like I am bothering my driver. I can take my time to explore and decide on what I really want to buy, not just grab things so we can leave. Plus, I can go on the weekends now that I know how to get there! I am excited for this!

Something that I have to simultaneously contemplate but not overthink, for fear that I will not come walking again, is that many people stare as I walk. I stick out. I’ve already said I am one of only a few white women in the area. So, people watch me and talk about me.

Nothing feels mean or targeted. I seem to be the topic of a few conversations as I walk by. There is some laughter when some people see me, but I try not to dwell on this. People turn on their motorbikes to watch me. Some people say hello and good morning. Some wave. Some say nothing. But I feel okay. I feel relatively safe. I’m cautious but hopeful.

The people watch me and I am watching them. I am looking around, studying and trying to learn. Bit by bit I am trying to absorb some of this culture. I will never fully fit in and in the 6 months I am supposed to be here I don’t need to, but I do want to embrace some of the culture and see more of it. I want to get to know these people and the environment and country I am here trying to serve. So, I am going to walk around and watch and learn, and hopefully interact more with the people and the village.

On the way back to the compound I realized just why soccer practice starts at 6am. It wasn’t yet 8:30 in the morning but the sun is hot and it is warm. The temperature went from 70* at 6am to 84* by 8:30am. You have to start early. It’s too hot to play later in the day, or until at least late in the afternoon. At 5pm on Saturday it is supposedly 98*. I think that might be off a little but I do not doubt that it was 98* here early during the day.

There is another reason people stop exercising and playing games later in the morning. The dust is a lot. It gets kicked up as people start to drive and move around through the village. I am coated with dust when I return to my apartment. I don’t think my toes will ever not be stained orange from the dust. I have scrubbed and soaked. The dust is winning so far. 

 

Work Week Rambles

The second full week of work starts the same as the previous week: a two hour meeting early Monday morning. I struggle to follow some of what they are discussing, as it is about different projects CMMB is working on and I have not been told about many of them so I am not sure what is going on. I tuned in and out during the meeting and spent part of it trying to remember different people’s names. I am struggling with that still.

Then I am back in my office. Sitting at my computer. Typing educational materials. I feel as though no one knows what to do with me. I asked to go into the community and to go to the PHC to shadow different people and get a better understanding what is needed during my time here. Instead, I am sitting in my office typing.

I finished on project only to be told before I do anything else I need to meet with someone else in an official office here to see what information I am allowed to educate on what materials I am allowed to use. Maybe this should have been a meeting that took place that first week. I believe it will be via a phone call but at this point we don’t know when I am going to meet with her.

I feel like a ship floating lost at sea. What am I supposed to do with my time? I want to be productive. I would love to go meet with people in the health center or see a patient or two. I am starting to miss the patient care. I know I am not someone who loves sitting in an office typing all day. Even if I am going to teach, I want to be out and about.

Overall, I feel unproductive. But I am told that this can be normal. Things move at a different pattern and pace here. Slowly at times. And I have to remember things are so different from what they were in the US.

And as I sit here trying to productively fill my time, I wonder if this is why so often mental health care is not done in places such as this, and why mental health nurse volunteer opportunities are so hard to find. With nowhere to go and being unsure of what to do next I fill my remaining Monday with more work on the projects I have already started, praying that the others will not be a waste of time and that I can use them soon.

Frustration may be a tool I utilize while I am here. I walked over to the office of one of my colleagues and asked her what she wanted me to do with my time as I had nothing I was working on. This brought me to the hospital in Yambio. I have only been to the PHC so it was good to see what the hospital has. The compound is large. They have a pediatric ward, maternity unit, surgical unit, lab, and family planning. There may be more but that was what I saw.

While at the hospital I met one of the case workers who works with Gender Based Violence (GBV) victims. Meeting her was helpful as one of the areas the organization would like me to support is her and her work. We chatted and I better understand how case management works for GBV. If there are patient’s willing to see me, she will let me know so I can attempt to assist.

Anyways, being frustrated at times pushes me to ask people to do things which may be an asset. I think I am going to need to do a lot of pushing to get things started. And then I am going to have to wait for the necessary people to then have time to work with me. But if I can use some of that frustration and restlessness to get more done that’s good. Idle hands and all…

Tuesday starts off slow. I am late to work, which is no big deal because I am sitting in my office, doing more research, and listening to the world around me. I have ideas and things I want to do with my time here but now I am waiting on the phone call and meeting with the MoH (Minister of Health) for Mental Health for this region. She will be the one who determines what I am allowed to do and what my scope can be. Until then I am in a holding pattern, so research and planning continues.

I have hope that maybe by Tuesday afternoon I can go out into the community and actually start to get a better understanding of things here. I feel like I am complaining a lot but I just feel so useless. I keep being told that they need mental health help but here I am tucked away in an office, doing what feels like nothing. Waiting…

We did go back to the hospital on Tuesday. I once more met with Susan, the case worker for GBV, and we attempted to meet with the hospital administrators. Once more they were not there. However, it did give us time to discuss more of the work in the hospital and we also discussed the community more, so I had a better understanding of some things in the society here.

There is a potential case that may come my way as well. One big barrier is figuring out where I can meet with people. My office would be ideal if it had privacy but it does not offer much privacy and it is not convenient for people to come and meet with me. One task we are working on is finding a place that will be more ideal. Until then I am going to keep brainstorming.

Another case was referred to me during the day, someone struggling with undisclosed mental illness who is also post-natal (unclear how long) but that is all the information I have on her. So Tuesday drew to a close with two potential cases but no plans on actually seeing them or knowing where I might be able to see these people.

Wednesday there is a nibble! Something seeming little but a purpose. Something more for me to do. I met with Francis, my boss for all intents and purposes. I have heard from several colleagues that they want to discuss mental health, not just to those that work in the community but general information.

So I now have a project to work on. I will be doing short information sessions every Monday after the general staff meeting. My plan is to pick a different topic each week and present for 30 minutes, and try to get the staff to engage a bit with me. The purpose of these presentations is not just to inform people about the mental health issues they may see in the community but to allow them some sense of self-discovery and tools to deal with their own mental health.

I say this often, but everyone needs mental health help at some point in their life. It doesn’t have to be in a crisis situation either. So I hope by providing some mental health education my co-workers may be able to see if there is something they are struggling, recognize if someone they know is struggling with their own mental health, and give them some basic tools to help themselves with their own mental health and improve their self-care and resiliency.

I hope this will more open up the dialogue with the staff and I about the issues they face. Maybe, if anyone feels they want to talk, this will give them the courage to talk. Not necessarily in the group setting, but outside of the sessions. I have tried to make it known that I am available to talk if anyone has anything they wish to talk about.

While I will not be able to educate all the staff, I hope that over the course of my time here I will have time to do some education with most of them. I know that most of my colleagues have faced some major traumas, and while I will not start off with that topic week one, I plan on talking about it at least a time or two in different weeks.

So Wednesday afternoon after my meeting I feel as though I have a little more direction to go with my work. Back in the office I go but this time I know at least one project to work on and a place to start with something. Baby steps.

Thursday I am still in the office but I have at least some specific tasks to work on. I spend the morning refining some of my material and prepping more to go into the education slides for the upcoming sessions.

The morning is broken up by a two hour meeting with different NGO organizations and UN affiliates. The focus of this meeting is Child Protection across the country. Different NGOs and organizations handle child protection in different areas. I am working with our CP program here.

We discusses different offenses that have occurred in the past month, what actions have been taken, what needs to met there still are, and other issues. There are concerns of some issues coming up so people are discussing different strategies. The work is complicated. The man leading the group is very passionate about his work so that make it a productive meeting.

After that concludes it’s back to my office for more time on the computer. Most of my PowerPoints and such should be ready soon. If I had a hard deadline to do much of this, I probably would have had more done by now but with no pressure to get things done I am moving slowly.

Breaking for lunch is still weird to me. I am driven back to the compound for an hour break. Being used to not taking a full 30 minute break often the lunch hour (which inevitably turns longer than an hour waiting for someone to drive back and get me) I do not know what to do with all that time.

Thursday concludes with more of the same. PowerPoint presentation work and research. However, another glimmer of hope, this time more on a personal level. Samuel drives me to the market where we walk around for a few minutes while I decide what I need. He also is encouraging me to try and get out more in the community and try the local food. He has talked to people in the office. Friday I will walk to get food, and for this I am glad.

Friday starts as a bit of a bust. The meeting has been cancelled and we did not know. I guess several committee members are in the capital. And the time at the clinic doesn’t happen because “there are not many patients” so I am in the office. I am going to keep pushing though.

Paru visited my office on Friday late morning with a request. There are a group of girls who have suffered traumas growing up. They are struggling in school and being bullied by the boys also in their group. They will not open up to the other staff working with them because they are all males and the girls were abused by men. So Paru asked me if I can go next week, meet with them, and see if I can get them to open up. Also, myself and the team, can do a further assessment to see what else, support wise, our organization can do and how I can help.

Paru has a lot of passion for mental health care and is very enthusiastic in everything he does. I missed some of what he was saying because he was talking so quickly but I got the important bits. I think he will end up being a good resource during my time here. He has already been very helpful.

Friday sees another success! I went to lunch with my co-workers at one of the shops down the road from our office. The food was really good, and sharing a meal with my co-workers was very nice. I hope to spend more time with them, not doing work.

After lunch I am hot and sleepy and have little work left to do. I wander the work compound a little, trying to explore but not be intrusive or seem weird. Still, I needed to stretch. It is 98*F on Friday. Possibly the hottest it has been since I have come. I wore scrubs all week. It’s too hot for scrubs. I’m going back to skirts next week. 

 

Language Lessons

 While English is the official language in South Sudan it is probably not the most widely spoken language. I'm not sure what is but there are a lot of languages spoke here. Even in the community I'm living in I often struggle to differentiate the languages that people are speaking. (Plus the accents make it more challenging!)

Different regions speak different languages. There are over 60 different languages spoken in South Sudan, often based on tribal and ethnic groups. Where I am Zande and Arabic are commonly used. Zande is a tribal language. Many people here are from the Azande tribe, so that is one of their primary language. 

Arabic is also widely spoken. I believe that is the case through many parts of Africa. Some of my co-workers are from other countries, like Uganda, and often speak in Arabic to others as it is a common language for many. However, apparently there is a dialect of Arabic known as Juba Arabic that is often spoken in South Sudan. Adding another layer of challenge. 

So the first hour of my work day, often while I am still at my compound waiting for a ride to be available to take me to work, is spent doing language study. I probably look strange as I wander the gardens here with my flashcards, talking to myself. 

I am trying to learn both Zande and Arabic. I studied Arabic for one year on my own before but many of the words are either not applicable to what I really need to know now, or I simply do not remember them. 

Now my co-workers do speak English. Some of them speak and understand it better than others. But is is complicated by accents. Both mine to them and theirs to me. So sometimes I have to remember that I need to talk slower, annunciate more. I know things get lost in translation on both sides of conversations so many times things are repeated.

The US needs to push people to do more with languages and language learning, especially from a younger age. I would love to say I can speak more than one language. My Spanish is probably only good enough to get me though crisis situations and asking for a bathroom. 

But for now I will walk around the trees and cacti, talking to myself, switching from Zande to Arabic and trying to retain some of it. I think I have 1-2 words in Arabic dawn and maybe 5-6 phrases or words in Zande. Zande is easier in my opinion, than Arabic. But both are challenging. They are not romance languages...

Davido, one of the guys who often drives me to work and around the community, is doing his best to help me. He greets me each morning in either Arabic or Zande and is trying to teach me new words. I fear I am poor student but I am greatful for his help. 

When Davido is driving me with others he will talk in Zande or Arabic to try and make me pick up things. However, knowing as little as I do I often tune out the conversation and watch the community instead. I have told him this but he is still trying. 

He is also exposing me to the music to try and expland my language through that. Some of the music is from the Congo though, so then it is Congo French I am hearing. The music is good but I have yet to pick up on the words. Maybe over the next few weeks. 

Davido swears I will be fluent by the time I leave South Sudan. I always laugh when he says this. Though the other day he declared I would live here for 5 years so I suppose if I did stay that long I would hope to be fluent by then. But I think 6 months will not make me fluent. Still I look forward to Davido letting me practice my language skills and his patience as I butcher his native tongue. 

Little moments. Little Pleasures.

Saturday was a really good day.*

Like I have talked about before, it can be very isolating here. Since I spend most of my time in the compound or at work in the office my interactions have been very limited. I have not met a lot of people who frequent the dining hall who really are interested in having conversations or hanging out. My one co-worker did invite me to hang out with him and some others at the fútbol pitch on Saturday but I wasn’t sure about going. When I’m at the compound during the week I’m pretty much alone, and when I am at work my interactions with co-workers is limited. So, I’ve been feeling a bit isolated.

However, like I said, Saturday was different. My co-volunteer Beverly joined me in Yambio for the afternoon. One of the other hospital workers was headed to Yambio so they rode together from Nzara to Yambio. We went to the market and I actually had a little time to buy food and explore a little more to get things I would like. My favorite find was peanut butter! 

After the market we headed back to the compound. We wandered around trying to find the bar and canteen that is on the second, connected, compound to the one I live on. This second compound is very large and there are so many trailers and trucks, random paths, and other machinery that I have yet to figure out where things are.

After several failed trips down the wrong paths, we were able to locate the correct path and found the little bar and restaurant. We sat inside because the heat of the day was strong and inside there is air conditioning. We ordered food. American style food. The restaurant has all different types of cuisine from all over the world. We also got soda. It was a nice, little taste of home. The food isn’t like the food I get at home but it was good nonetheless.

Beverly couldn’t stay to late as her ride was heading back to Nzara. We walked a little after lunch and spent quite a bit of time talking about past travels and our different volunteer tasks and things were are doing. Beverly has done volunteering here before and has volunteered in different countries as well so she is a good source of information and guidance for me.

After saying goodbye to Beverly, a much too short visit, I headed over to the group of UN people that I had met the weekend prior. I rarely see anyone from this group during the week, everyone is busy with their work, but weekends are different.

We spent the next few hours hanging out together. It was very fun. One of the girls had refilled the inflatable pool from the weekend before. The guys were busy playing volleyball. Aubrey joined them. Rachel and I decided that the pool was more where we wanted to spend our time. After the game everyone else joined in the pool, except Douglas who had decided not to play volleyball and just chilled outside the pool. It was probably a good thing because 8 people in the little inflatable pool was a lot.

We spent the rest of the evening hanging out. We played Cards Against Humanities and ate delicious food that some of the group had bought. The guys also cooked some meat for us on one of the open-air grills. It was a night full of laughter and good-natured teasing.

Sunday was a low-key day. Most of the UN group from the day before left on a week-long mission early in the morning. They do environmental work and were heading into the bush for a while. What exactly they were doing I am not entirely sure.

I did some work for my projects for CMMB during the day. I also lounged around my room and my veranda. I am trying to get some photos of the larger lizards near my veranda but they are so fast. I also had to do laundry (here that means a bucket and hand washing clothes before hanging a clothing line in my bathroom to dry them).

I was okay with a lowkey day. I was able to talk to my family back home and doing some of the research I needed to do on my computer on a faster speed connection was beneficial. I spent a little time interacting with others but on Sunday that felt okay. I also went out for a walk in the afternoon, when it finally started to cool off and that was enjoyable. It was a good weekend.

*I forgot to mention Friday night. Friday night was good too. I was heading out of my room to grab dinner and at the end of the path from my complex to the secondary gate was Douglas. He waited for me to catch up. He was headed to grab some street corn (corn cobs roasted on the fire). He invited me along and we went through the main gates.

Not far from the entrance to the compound there are people selling food and some other goods. We ordered corn and chatted. Turns out Douglas got to South Sudan just a few days after me. He is from Zimbabwe, here doing environmental work. We chatted and got the street corn. It tasted like really good popcorn. I loved it. We headed back in and chatted some more. Slowly I am making some friends inside the compound.

Reflections from the first full week of work

Monday started and stuttered and was a reminder that I am not in a hospital setting now. I was late to work, and as someone who is routinely 20 minutes early every shift this is weird for me. But I have to wait for a driver to be available to take me to the office.

Then there is the 2 hour meeting. I’m not sure if every Monday staff meeting is this long but I certainly felt like it was long. But it did give me a sense of who the different people are in the organization, what each role may include, resources, and what challenges are common or at least keep occurring. It also gave the team a chance to meet me and for me to discuss what I may be doing and what services I may be able to provide to their staff.

It is a slower pace here at times. I have a lot of time to wait for a ride or someone to escort me places. I am not sure if it will always be this way or if it is just that I am new. But I am trying to use this “dead time” to the best of my advantage, either working on different plans and tools to try and help with the different projects, or doing research or studying local languages.

It’s slow until it’s not. Suddenly Monday I am sitting in with the head Doctor of Nzara’s hospital discussing the mental health clinic they want me to start. And we’re meeting and talking about what I will be teaching the staff, and patient care, and then I am shown to the space where the new clinic will be. Then it’s back in the SUV, driving back to the office for another set of meetings and office work.

Tuesday is filled with more meetings, and then time back in the office where I work on my presentation for my project proposals and research into the area. There are other things that I have to research. I am doing a lot of typing and a lot of reading. Tuesday afternoon I had a meeting with all the project managers to present my project proposals and get their feedback.

That has led to more work. I spent the entirety of this week in the office. I have my own space with my own desk and a fan which is nice. There are lots of people around the office, so I get to socialize with them a little. That has been nice.

But most of the time I am tucked away in my office. Most of my interactions come from my conversations with the drivers that bring me wherever I have to go. One is going to try and teach me Arabic. Hopefully, he is successful.

The rest of the week passed by quickly. I have several projects I am working on and spent part of my time meeting with various people individually. More plans are being made. More work I need to do. More research to be done.

I work a little at night and I will probably work more this weekend. I have more to do and it might be easier to get it done when I am not in the office, since I have better Wi-Fi here to do some of the research I need to do. I have my list and my goals for next week.

This is my guide for the priorities for the rest of the weekend when I do work. But I won’t work all weekend. I have plans and want to spend some time with the other people in the compound. All work and no play… You know the rest.

This work was not what I was expecting to be doing when I got here. Or at least so much office sitting as I am doing now. I really hope next week I get to go out into the community and really start interacting with people and being more a part of the culture.

I want to interact more with people and I hope that I will also start to get to see some patients. Even if there is nothing really established here for mental health care I think seeing some patients and giving them some support and guidance while I am setting up, or trying to set up more of a system, will be helpful. I don’t want to spend the next 5 months in the office.

I am enjoying the work. I hope that some or all of my projects will take off and will be successful. There are so many little components that I have to take into consideration when I do this work. New clinics and new mental health outlets are complicated at the best of times. With limited resources it is going to be a challenge. But it is a challenge I am excited to take on.

Jackfruit

Okay so yesterday's blog post might have been a little weird. My blog posts often are a way for me to reflect through the various emotions and thoughts that go through my head. They are pretty raw, without much editing, and for the most part they are not censored, though there will be things I will not post in them.

However, what I really wanted to focus on saying today is how beautiful I think South Sudan is. It may not be conventional beauty that we might picture when we think of a country or a place. I have yet to find a beach with white sand and perfect blue water. Also, this is a landlocked country so there is no ocean. Semantics...

Anyways, the beauty here comes from appreciating what they do have and not comparing it to what western society looks like. The is beauty in other ways. There is so much interesting vegetation. I am lucky to be able to walk through the compound's gardens and see different cacti and flowers and lots of different bushes and trees I am learning to identify.

At breakfast the other morning I discovered a tree growing large jackfruits while I was eating on the veranda. I've only ever seen jackfruit like this since coming here. It is so large and oddly shaped. The fruit that grows on the trees is interesting and there is a lot more than might be expected. The fruit tastes great too. Bananas and oranges and pineapple. There are many fruits in season now, and more when the rains start in a few months.

I have found different animals and insects since coming here. There are different lizards around that are so interesting to watch. They are fast so they hard to catch on camera. I really like the large colorful ones. Thankfully, though I have not found any snakes or big lizards in my room. I found a rhino beetle in a bush at the office one day. That was incredible. There are many birds to watch too. While I know there are other animals here like lions and hyena I have yet to see those, which is probably a good thing. But from a distance I would like to see more wild animals.

And there is beauty and wonder in the people and culture here. And I am not just talking about the attractiveness of the people themselves but of the society that they live in. Watching the children look after each other, holding hands as they walk down the streets or playing together. Young kids are able to walk together in a way I have never witnessed in the US, without parents. Seeing how the women walk carrying gallon jugs of water or baskets of fruit on their heads, having the grace and skill not to spill a thing. There is beauty in the way people interact and look after each other.

Sure, there are issues in the culture and society. They are not perfect. But neither is the US. And I think it is important to look around and see how many good things exist here. Times are hard and there is a lot of trauma and struggles here but the people are not without hope and they are not without a bright future. But there is work to do. And it helps to see the beauty and potential that exists to give hope and reason to the hard work ahead.

A Plague of Questions

My daily reminder for how lucky I am comes in the form of the cold shower I take each evening to scrub the dust, sweat, bug spray, and other daily acquisitions from my body. Sure I would like hot water, or at least warm water, but I have running water. I have a shower. I have a full bathroom with a toilet with water. A sink. I have a kitchen. A nice bed and mosquito netting. A TV with cable, access to WiFi, a nice desk, locker, areas to hang clothing, watercooler, veranda to sit out on and read. I have an air conditioner. Best of all I have a safe place to sleep at night and to walk around during the day. I have so much. Yet a still lack so many of the things I had at home.

And when I step under the cold water I curse the shower. Why is there not hot water? Why does the hot water heater not seem to work. Why did I find another lizard in my room when I got home. Thankfully it’s not a snake. I think I would pack my bags then. Why did they not change the battery in the smoke alarm when they installed the new timed lights in all the rooms?  I get to hear the chirp if the dying battery all night.

After I let out that curse and start to scrub I realize how lucky I am. I am choosing to be here. I chose to live like this. Each of these small annoyances are really, really minor. I am so fortunate. But the stark reality of where I come from and where I am living comes out clearly in these moments.

Many of my colleagues are not as lucky as I am. The people I am serving are not as lucky as I am. And every day when they pick me up to take me to work in one of the company vehicles I feel weird. I am used to driving myself. Here I am like a toddler. I rely on drivers to go anywhere. I have people who take care of me. I am constantly told I am a guest and a VIP, getting to use special bathrooms and getting the better seat in the car.

Why am I so fortunate? Do these people think I am fragile that they give all of the nicest things? Do I seem like I am ungrateful for what I do have? Do they think I am high minded or pretentious? What do they think of me? Why does it feel like everyone looks at me when I walk through the work compound? I know I am the only white person here so is this what it feels like back home for many black people? Various thoughts float through my mind throughout the day and as I reflect after coming home at night.

Is this culture shock? Is this a feeling of white superiority? What emotions do I have plaguing me? What thoughts do I need to correct? What feelings do I need to explore further? So many questions. And as I turn off the shower and towel off I am met with more questions and very few answers. Maybe tomorrow will reveal more. More questions and more answers.