Taking a deep breath is theoretically possible but I just cannot get it right. The only thing preventing that breath of glorious fresh air is the physical assault on my body, currently being mechanically undertaken by the backseat of a double cab pickup. An unusual perpetrator, yes, but frightening in its savage and violent movements in different directions, it would seem, at once! Each impact seems to cause my breathing reflex to pause, until every so often I have this unusual though that I have not taken a breath in some time. Breathe in, breathe out, got one!
By spreading my legs and wedging my feet into the two passenger doors, just behind the seat posts, and then grabbing the roof handles, I attempt to rigidly follow the motion of the car. A few moments later, I am exhausted by the effort. There is just no rhythm to the motion, just endless random movement as each shock absorber valiantly tries to absorb the gaping vacant sections of road. Strategy number two sees me going with the flow, feeling the motion of the car. In an instant I am airborne as the seat catapults me vertically. The roof leans down to smack me back into place. I feel that smack coming, it is palpable, I see myself as a ripe melon thrown at a wall. Reflexively I tuck my chin onto my chest and feel the roof lining kiss the back of my neck!
My colleague is driving. He relentlessly manhandles the steering wheel from side to side, again, and again. I want to tell him to stop but have no better idea as to how to deal with these ruts out of which this road has been built. He is only driving at 10 kilometres per hour and it feels like torture. I cannot bear to think about the many kilometres we still have to travel. And then he accelerates like a man possessed. The chronic assault of squeaking car body panels quietens considerably. My body takes a deep breath all on its own, and I start to hope. The speedometer pushes past 20km/hr, then 30. Ditches and ruts fly past us on either side; the needle squeezes past 50km/hr! My hope soars and then splinters as he hits the brakes hard, and with the back wheels fishtailing, we are into more impossible potholes.
There is this impossible idea that meditation will help. I try to picture myself in a place of serenity but those thoughts are so roughly shaken that they are scrambled and abandoned in our passing dust.
This is no ordinary road. This is the main highway between Juba, the capital city, and Yei in Southern Sudan. Not only is it a highway it is also the only road between these two towns, and the principle trucking route for goods imported into this country.
40 bone jarring kilometres later and the road improves marginally. Although it is possible that my mind has shut down so as to ignore my aching body. I find myself lost in the space outside of my window, a space filled with far less pain. The foliage is an iridescent green and stretches as far as the eye can see. Young teak plantations filled with new trees look on serenely, their leaves pregnant with the expectation of being part of a process that will create wood as hard as iron. And the iron husks of well worn tanks, gutted trailers, and pared down trucks lie abandoned and rotting along the roadside. Sudan is not the desert I expected at all; well except for the dusty streets that weave their way through the capital.
The real surprise is the roadblock. A 45 minute opportunity to stand on that same road that has tortured me for so long! This whilst some crazy people clear out landmines, a hangover of the recent civil war. The condition of the road makes more sense to me now!
I watch as a man alights from a taxi and sprints off into the bush. I see a woman running toward him from a traditional village. Their meeting is a Hollywood lift and swirl. Joyously reunited! I smile, and wonder if that one moment, so unrelated to my trip, has made it all worthwhile.
My body is sore, my mind vacant, and my spirit thirsting for rest. But when all was said and done and with my head snuggling on my pillow, I did not regret the mere 340km travelled in just under 10 hours!
Tomorrow should be interesting!
Showing posts with label Southern Sudan. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Southern Sudan. Show all posts
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Monday, June 15, 2009
More on my Sudan Holiday!
Part 2 of my Sudan documentary...
I am staying in the capital city of Southern Sudan, Juba. There is no electricity, unless you have a generator, no sewerage, no running water, and no refuse collection. Instead little tanker trucks shuttle busily around town delivering water and emptying cess pits. Different trucks that is! Sadly, rubbish is dumped just out of town, in the bush, anywhere. Litter litters the streests.
This is a simple town, probably covering an area of about 15 or 20 square kilometres. A town at the very beginning of its development. On its eastern side flows a river that has been around forever; the might Nile!
Roads here are simply not meant for cars. Instead they are great as hiking trails and goat paths. Juba has probably less than 15km of tarred road in total. The cars that attempt to navigate these roads are generally brand new government issued gangster tinted Landcruisers. The rest are probably owned by all of the aid agencies in town. Despite the roads, trucks still manage to move good around this country. That is until the rainy season. Four months of rain that turns all dirt into a quagmire. Not even six wheel drive trucks are any use then! And trust me, there are such things!
Accommodation for visitors is an interesting mix of prefabricated rooms or tented camps. Somehow I have found myself in a luxury log cabin, which is basic and clean, and absolutely perfect. It does have two air conditioners which together battle to deal with the heat of the day. Just as well, I spend that time visiting all sorts of corners of this town and meeting the most interesting people.
Yesterday I met a potential Distributor from Uganda. We parked deep in a residential area and then followed a 3 metre wide road between a mixture of tin houses and shops. Goats mewed like kittens, an old woman screamed at an old man, and a radio crackled local tunes. After about 70 metres of interested stares, we turned left into another alley and then quickly right. I found myself in a little grass square bordered on all sides by the backs of tin shacks. Steve headed across the square and entered a dingy looking place. Inside was a ramshackle bar built out of scraps of wood. Scarred and lopsided it provided space for two televisions tuned to different stations. A generator blared, just out of sight, providing the power. A third television rested on a plastic chair, where two brothers wrestled with the dilemmas involved with breaking out of prison for about the sixth time! After meeting all of the patrons, it was down to business.
With business done, it was back to finding the rollercoaster between the potholes while we navigated back to the office.
I like this town. It is simple. People are friendly and peaceful. And there is a fun hill that I get to run on every day, but more of that later!
I am staying in the capital city of Southern Sudan, Juba. There is no electricity, unless you have a generator, no sewerage, no running water, and no refuse collection. Instead little tanker trucks shuttle busily around town delivering water and emptying cess pits. Different trucks that is! Sadly, rubbish is dumped just out of town, in the bush, anywhere. Litter litters the streests.
This is a simple town, probably covering an area of about 15 or 20 square kilometres. A town at the very beginning of its development. On its eastern side flows a river that has been around forever; the might Nile!
Roads here are simply not meant for cars. Instead they are great as hiking trails and goat paths. Juba has probably less than 15km of tarred road in total. The cars that attempt to navigate these roads are generally brand new government issued gangster tinted Landcruisers. The rest are probably owned by all of the aid agencies in town. Despite the roads, trucks still manage to move good around this country. That is until the rainy season. Four months of rain that turns all dirt into a quagmire. Not even six wheel drive trucks are any use then! And trust me, there are such things!
Accommodation for visitors is an interesting mix of prefabricated rooms or tented camps. Somehow I have found myself in a luxury log cabin, which is basic and clean, and absolutely perfect. It does have two air conditioners which together battle to deal with the heat of the day. Just as well, I spend that time visiting all sorts of corners of this town and meeting the most interesting people.
Yesterday I met a potential Distributor from Uganda. We parked deep in a residential area and then followed a 3 metre wide road between a mixture of tin houses and shops. Goats mewed like kittens, an old woman screamed at an old man, and a radio crackled local tunes. After about 70 metres of interested stares, we turned left into another alley and then quickly right. I found myself in a little grass square bordered on all sides by the backs of tin shacks. Steve headed across the square and entered a dingy looking place. Inside was a ramshackle bar built out of scraps of wood. Scarred and lopsided it provided space for two televisions tuned to different stations. A generator blared, just out of sight, providing the power. A third television rested on a plastic chair, where two brothers wrestled with the dilemmas involved with breaking out of prison for about the sixth time! After meeting all of the patrons, it was down to business.
With business done, it was back to finding the rollercoaster between the potholes while we navigated back to the office.
I like this town. It is simple. People are friendly and peaceful. And there is a fun hill that I get to run on every day, but more of that later!
Sunday, June 14, 2009
My Sudan Holiday
Welcome back to Southern Sudan!
This sign is beautiful - If you cannot read it, it says 'For your own safety, stay on the road' Who would have thought? It only occurred to me much later that this refers to landmines lying undiscovered in the bush!!! The picture next to that one shows some cleared area of landmines. The system is simple really, the red sticks mark possible landmines and uncleared area; the white ones show safe areas. There are no signs that tell you this, you need to know!!
Here are just a heap of photographs from a trip we made to a town called Yei. It was an education in bruised bones due to the road condition!
This sign is beautiful - If you cannot read it, it says 'For your own safety, stay on the road' Who would have thought? It only occurred to me much later that this refers to landmines lying undiscovered in the bush!!! The picture next to that one shows some cleared area of landmines. The system is simple really, the red sticks mark possible landmines and uncleared area; the white ones show safe areas. There are no signs that tell you this, you need to know!!
Here are just a heap of photographs from a trip we made to a town called Yei. It was an education in bruised bones due to the road condition!
Typical roadside ornaments!
One evening presented a little bit of lightning and no rain. I have no doubt that nobody is looking forward to the rainy season which is about to begin. Rain = lots of water = mud = chaos...
and here are the flowers outside my hut. In the mid day heat, they open, and then close for the 'cooler' parts of the day. Are they mad??
A Holiday in Sudan
I have travelled to some interesting countries in Africa, but these last two weeks are worthy of some more detailed descriptions. I have divided up this post so as not to bore you to death!
When I think of Sudan, I think of Darfur and their humanitarian crisis. Millions of displaced people fleeing blood thirsty rebels fighting battles because fighting is what they do. Perhaps you think of the recent International Court of Justice indictment against President Omar al-Bashir for genocide or hot dusty deserts and searing heat.
My arrival in Southern Sudan was a revelation. Hot, oh yeah, but lush and green instead of windblown sand. Politically the country of Sudan consists of two countries; Northern and Southern Sudan, each with their own governments. In 2011, Southern Sudan will hold a referendum to decide on whether they want to become their own separate country or not. Little doubt that Southern Sudan is here to stay!
Up until 2004, the North and the South had been at war. My simplistic understanding of the war is that the local Sudanese were tired of their Arab Muslim masters and sent them packing to the north. The real Sudanese are easy to spot as they are tall, with pronounced cheekbones and an almost ebony complexion. Many proudly display their tribal markings on their foreheads, which are essentially patterned scars. Southern Sudan, though, is a mix of many cultures including Ugandan’s, Eritrean’s, and Ethiopian’s. And then of course there are the countless aid workers from the fabled West!
In stark contrast to my experience in Nigeria, where the white man represented the rape and pillage of their society, here the white man, and woman, is associated with aid and understanding. It is a society still recovering from many years of war, so it is simple and scarred. Yet people seem to be genuinely pleased to be free and developing on their own.
There are very few brick and mortar buildings in the capital city, Juba, and a building taller than a single story is a rare sight indeed. The more cynical point them out as residences of government ministers! Traditional housing consisting of a stick frame coated with clay and mud, and finished with a thatched roof. They can be found intermingled with tin roof structures. Sadly the misconception that the iron box is progress just does not work for me...
There is zero industry within the entire country. Everything that can be found here has been imported, another by product of war! The company that imported me for almost two weeks is one of the first companies in the country to manufacture a product!
More tomorrow with some pictures (I hope)...
When I think of Sudan, I think of Darfur and their humanitarian crisis. Millions of displaced people fleeing blood thirsty rebels fighting battles because fighting is what they do. Perhaps you think of the recent International Court of Justice indictment against President Omar al-Bashir for genocide or hot dusty deserts and searing heat.
My arrival in Southern Sudan was a revelation. Hot, oh yeah, but lush and green instead of windblown sand. Politically the country of Sudan consists of two countries; Northern and Southern Sudan, each with their own governments. In 2011, Southern Sudan will hold a referendum to decide on whether they want to become their own separate country or not. Little doubt that Southern Sudan is here to stay!
Up until 2004, the North and the South had been at war. My simplistic understanding of the war is that the local Sudanese were tired of their Arab Muslim masters and sent them packing to the north. The real Sudanese are easy to spot as they are tall, with pronounced cheekbones and an almost ebony complexion. Many proudly display their tribal markings on their foreheads, which are essentially patterned scars. Southern Sudan, though, is a mix of many cultures including Ugandan’s, Eritrean’s, and Ethiopian’s. And then of course there are the countless aid workers from the fabled West!
In stark contrast to my experience in Nigeria, where the white man represented the rape and pillage of their society, here the white man, and woman, is associated with aid and understanding. It is a society still recovering from many years of war, so it is simple and scarred. Yet people seem to be genuinely pleased to be free and developing on their own.
There are very few brick and mortar buildings in the capital city, Juba, and a building taller than a single story is a rare sight indeed. The more cynical point them out as residences of government ministers! Traditional housing consisting of a stick frame coated with clay and mud, and finished with a thatched roof. They can be found intermingled with tin roof structures. Sadly the misconception that the iron box is progress just does not work for me...
There is zero industry within the entire country. Everything that can be found here has been imported, another by product of war! The company that imported me for almost two weeks is one of the first companies in the country to manufacture a product!
More tomorrow with some pictures (I hope)...
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