Steve's Work

Current Writings

stevedennis@egate.net (Steve Dennis) — Mon, 13 Apr 2009 13:54:00 +0000

13-04-09

Hello All,

It has been a while, a long while since I wrote anything on this Blog. The reasons vary from being shy, to having writer's block, to feeling a need in structuring a story yet being too confused to structure it.

Well, a lot has happened since I last wrote. In short: I have continued to work with MSF in Ivory Coast, Amsterdam, Sri Lanka again, Chad and our Somali mission again, but this time out of Nairobi. I have taken some time off to pursue some studies in international relations, whereby I would like to find those structures and logic to the things I have been seeing in the field.

I am working on writing a book about some of my experiences and some themes of justifying the risks of this work. Please standby for more news of this.

Also, an article I wrote was printed with the Globe and Mail on March 21st, 2009. Here is a link: http://www.theglobeandmail.com/servlet/story/RTGAM.20090321.waidessay21/BNStory/International/

And, a previous article I wrote after visiting a refugee camp in the northeast of Kenya:
http://www.msf.org.uk/never_ending_struggle_for_survival_20080903.news

Right now I am in Brisbane, spending time with my girlfriend Kara and her family, working on the book and reading the news; saddened by events in Sri Lanka, Somalia, Sudan and other countries I've come to know. It continues to be a troubled world.

Well, please stay tuned for more information on the book. Warmest regards,

Steve

Still Hot in Africa. Arrival in Abidjan, Côte d'Ivoire

stevedennis@egate.net (Steve Dennis) — Sun, 26 Feb 2006 16:07:00 +0000

26-02-06

Abidjan, Côte d'Ivoire,

Hello All,

Well, I arrived alright in Abidjan, the functional capital of Côte d'Ivoire (Ivory Coast). I am here for briefings, then will be heading to the west to work again with MSF, this time in a hospital program, with mobile clinics and many different activities relating to that. I will be project coordinator there. This is my first French speaking mission with MSF, but I have a feeling things will all work out.

I will be using this webpage to show photos, and express brief thoughts. These are my thoughts, and in no way represent the thoughts or opinions of MSF. (Some of those opinions are parallel, but I do not speak on behalf of MSF on this website.)

Please feel free to send comments to me, but I may be a while in replying, as I only get web access every couple of months.

Cheers,

Steve

Baguettes, wine and a lot of cheese!

stevedennis@egate.net (Steve Dennis) — Sun, 11 Dec 2005 12:44:00 +0000

December 11, 2005,

Hello Mom and Dad,

Okay, here is an update on how things are going here in France. (Note: With the law of conservation of language, since I have been learning French, I have noticed I have been losing English. The grammar and spellings here may need some forgiveness. But, as a wise man probably said, "it is a weak mind that can only spell things one way.)

I arrived in Paris early in the morning three weeks ago. The flight with Air France was good, complete with a choice of wines, movies, and good leg-room. To me, the flights out of Toronto are more than just stepping onto a spaceship to zip across an ocean for an adventure. Knowing that I'll be out for the next year and a bit, is a challenge mentally, and emotionally. That challenge starts well before the plane ticket is bought.

In October, I started considering when to go and what timeline it should all take. I took the whole summer off, and was starting to feel like it really was time to start moving, and start working. I do like my work and the awareness of the world around us it brings. I was missing that, so I picked a time to get over to France to start learning French before signing another contract.

Once the date is set, and a ticket bought, a scary reality sets in, I'm going; and I don't know what that will mean, but I'm going.

There is a rush beforehand, an organized scramble to get everything ready, and all matters resolved for the year+. There are too many offers, "if you have a moment before you go..." and I try to get a generous dose of spending time with people before focusing on packing/planning.
As usual, the bags were packed just before leaving, and some things just didn't get done. My folks drove me to the airport, as they always have, and we had time to spare. One last Canadian beer in the airport bar, then into the gate to wait for boarding. Passing that security gate to me, is like stepping on the ice. You put your game face on, you are travelling. I do my routine empty pockets of metal, put my carry on bag through the x-ray machine and slowly step through the metal detector. I have gotten into this routine where I am very efficient at it, and usually raise no suspicion. I usually grab something at duty free, then wander a while down to the gate and put my thoughts to ink in my journal. They usually say something like this:
"Waiting for the plane departing from Toronto for another, 9, 12, 15 months. Seeing the usual faces around the gate. The frustrated business traveller giving the assistant a hard time. The mother of three children trying to control them. The in love couple ending a vacation. The elderly couple flying for the first time, going to see their children. I've seen these same faces are seen in Nairobi, Amsterdam, and Sri Lanka.

We board, "Good evening" is spread around the seats as you meet your travel companions, and off we go.

I arrived in Paris, CDG airport, and decided to head downtown for a little glimpse of Paris before catching my train south to Avignon. I only had time to drop my bags at a locker and get to La Seine river and view the Eiffel Tower in the distance. Also, I saw the Notre Dame cathedral in the distance, but wow it was impressively big. I think in the new year I will try to go to Paris for the weekend.

A couple of photos, then off to the station to get the TGV to Avignon. (TGV, Train Grande Vitas = High Speed Train) Wow, this thing can fly! We travelled from Paris, to Avignon (500 KM) in just over 2 1/2 hours!

I arrived in Avignon, and met up with Madam Rosy Michel, the lady of the house I am staying with. She has two sons, and a companion George. George and one of her sons lives with us in the house. After quick, simple introductions and a tour, I decided to get a little nap in before dinner. When I woke, the whole house was filled with a rich flavour coming from the kitchen. My nose woke me up and demanded I go to the kitchen. I got there, just as dinner was ready. It was great! Most nights dinner goes something like this:- We sit down to a salad and some bread. (The salads vary from lettuce, to tuna, to endive, to other interesting tasty salads.)- Sometimes they provide wine, sometimes I buy wine. The wine here is good, for not that much money.- A casserole is then brought out, along with other vegetables, potatoes, broccoli, etc. The casserole usually has lots of cheese on/in it too. More fresh bread is spread around as well.- After the main dish, the cheese comes out, along with more bread.- Sometimes after the cheese, there is a dessert, like puddings, fruits or candied fruits.

I think the stereotype of lots of wine, cheese, and bread is very true. And why not, it is sooo good here, and cheap. Usually for lunch, I buy a baguette, some cheese, tomatoes and meats, all for under $5 cdn. There are many good wines I buy for under $4 a bottle. As this is the end of my time off work, and money is a bit tighter, I am very happy that my quality of life has not had to suffer.

So, usually in the mornings I'm up by 7:30, heading to school by 8:30, after a little breakfast and tea. It takes me 20 minutes to walk to school, through a maze of streets in the interior of Avignon.

Avignon is a small town, but absolutely beautiful. In the middle ages, there was some complication with the Vatican (my French isn't good enough yet to get the story right), and a Pope came to Avignon to stay here. After him, another Pope, and a few more stayed here. As such, they built incredible palaces here. I was thinking before I got here, sounds interesting, a big palace, that's always nice to see, BUT THIS IS A BIG PALACE, VERY NICE TO SEE. It is a protected site with UNESCO (UN body for protection of historic sites around the world) and it should be. Today I am going there with my camera to take some photos, as it is just too big and incredible for words.

From the top of the hill where the Palace is, there is a lookout where you can overlook part of the town, and the "Closed Valley" called Valcuse. This is the valley closed in by a chain of mountains to the East. To the west, there is a fort facing Avignon, where the King of France built a fort to keep an eye on the Pope, and a little further on, there is a vineyard, Chateau Neuf du Pape. I will be going there soon, as this wine has some significance to me.
Avignon is surrounded by a big wall. Inside there is a maze of streets, and outside things are easier to navigate with. Fortunately, if you are lost in the town, just keep walking till you hit the wall and follow it to a landmark. (I think they build the wall more for people to find their way home after a night on the town, than for protection.)

Class starts at 9:00 everyday. I have been in various different classes, ranging from private lessons, to a group of about 10 people, depending on the teachers, and lessons for that day. It has been somewhat frustrating that there seems to be less people my level, but that is changing as more people leave, and other more basic people come in.

Class goes for 2 hours, then a break, then another 1.5 hours. In the afternoons there are excursions and films to see. I am happy with the school, now that I have finally gotten in the right class. Before I was way over my head.

In the evenings, I get those great dinners and some good advice from George and Madam Rosy about homework.

All in all, I am learning, though it is difficult at times.

On the weekends, I have visited two places near here, Aix en Provence, and Marseille. Wonderful places too.

I like this place in France. I find there are people not only eating great food, but spending the time to enjoy it. In a café, the server may not rush to get your order for 10-15 minutes after you arrive. But as well, after your drinks, you are not rushed out of the place either. Dinner out on town is served late, and served long. I have left restaurants after midnight a couple times, as there was no rush, and the owner kept suggesting other things to eat, or drink.

I recently received a job description from MSF to work in a French country in Africa. I want to work in a Francophone country to learn more, so this should maybe work out. The project sounds big, but each time I have taken on a contract with them, the duties and responsibilities have always increased, maybe this isn't any different. The one main concern I (and MSF) have, is my level of French. It isn't good now, and it is needed to be good. I still have 7 more weeks of class to improve it, and a couple weeks later to refine it, but that is it. I'm really tossed on this decision. I will keep you updated.

Well, the temperature here is between 5 and 10 degrees most days. People are still sitting outside (under heaters) sipping coffee or tea. To fit the small streets, and the high price of gas, the average size car could fit into an average sized SUV at home. There is this one car that can go 100km on 3.9 litres of gas. Maybe that is downhill with a tail wind, but still, it is nice to be back in an environment where that sort of thing is advertised and discussed. (Along with some low energy appliances, and many energy conservation considerations around the house.)
It is Sunday today, the sun is shining, the temperature nice. I'm going to finish now and head on for some walking around, maybe stop by a café for a tea and some study. Take care all,

Love,

Steve

South Sudan Journal, Part 29 (of 29)

stevedennis@egate.net (Steve Dennis) — Thu, 17 Nov 2005 02:54:00 +0000

Message 29 September 19th, 2004
Soesterberg, The Netherlands

Hello Mom and Dad,

I have awakened from my dream in South Sudan. I am out of Sudan, out of Africa, and back in Western Life; home of cold beer, soft cushions on seats, lanes for vehicle traffic, and ever-so-fresh food. I am on my way home, but staying in the Netherlands another week to attend a Logistic Coordinators meeting in Soesterberg.

So how did it end? Anything funny happen on my way out? How does it feel to be out? What future plans await me? For these and other questions/curiosities, see below.

After I last wrote, things continued along. More training, more building, more training, more hiring, more training, more rain, more training, etc. As my week was ending, getting closer to my leaving date, I told more people about my end of contract. Many people were not happy, and some even were angry at the prospect that I would leave.

"Maybe we can tell MSF that you are doing a good job here, and they will then let you keep your job then?" "Actually, they would be happy if I stayed. I am choosing to go home." "If there is something we did wrong to make you want to go home, let us know, you don't have to leave." "You did nothing wrong, I'm just tired and would like to rest and see my family." "Okay, that is good, rest and see your family, then come back in maybe 8-10 days." "We see."

"She says you can't leave now, this is the worst time to leave the project."
"Three months ago Lankien was just looted and we came here with nothing, no shelters, no food, and few medicines. Three months before that, we had the fire and lost everything. Three months before that, Commander ____ was coming through and we just evacuated. Three months before that I just arrived. This is the best I have seen the project, this is the best time to leave." "She says good point, but still maybe you can extend." "I extended already. I was suppose to leave in June." "She says ..." and on it went.

I had many discussions with patients and staff about my leaving. When people are leaving, emotions run wild. I never thought I would be THAT emotional at my end of mission, but these damn human emotions hit me again. Once people agreed that now was a good time for me to leave, they would give me, my family, my future wife (or wives, since a smart man like me should have 3 or 4 wives) and children their biggest blessings. Mom and Dad, the Head Chief, the Commissioner, the SRRC Secretary, the Police Commissioner and many of the staff and patients that I have known, give you their biggest greetings.

And so, I spent much time in meeting with each person of authority and patients and staff members that I have known and grown fond of. I would explain my upcoming plans, thanking them for the time I spent with them, receive their permission/blessings to leave, and then I packed up to leave, the night before the plane would arrive.

Packing to leave was easy; there was no clothing I wanted to bring home with me. It was obvious to any eye I couldn't need it more than people there. Some books, some little gear, some water and that's all.

A goat was given for a big dinner with the team. Sammy and Charlie put their efforts to the meal. BBQ goat, with fried goat stew and goat liver stew is about as good as it gets! So, we ate the great meal, talked of the good times, the not-so good times, the times we stole victory from South Sudan, and the times we didn't come out so well off. I was given a couple of things to remember South Sudan by, a spoon and pipe; both made locally. Some tobacco was produced and so we passed the pipe, played our card game (called Kala Azar) and drank some wine into the evening.

The next day (Sunday the 5th) the Casa arrived in Pieri to drop off cargo, and take me out. Since there was no other routing for the Casa that day, the pilots, (Shane and Nirav) came in for some tea and coffee. Together we talked of recent politics, proposed involvements that the US government may want to reconsider, and generally enjoyed the Sunday morning.

I had some time to say some more goodbyes, and then we headed back to the plane. Nirav started one engine, and a crowd gathered. Looking around the crowd, my eyes glazed over. There was "Not-so-well-Old-Man" (as he became known for his near death condition early in his treatment), alive and well, with the biggest two-toothed smile, smiling and waving. There was little Michael; he got the shirt, but not the pants today. There was John Lul; we kicked down fences together during the fire. There was an ex-patient, Choul Lul, he ordered me around, as he did everyone else, and got things done, (I recently hired him because of his abilities to make people work). There was David the very good, but alcoholic carpenter that carried bags of sorghum with me all through a Sunday in October when no one else would/could carry anymore. There was Old Rebecca, our cleaner from Lankien who took care of us like a Mother. There was Simon the Guard who I taught how to throw a frisbee, and he taught me how to play the 4X13 holes in the ground game. There was a year of people I met, worked with, worked for, laughed with and cried with. Smiling and waving, wet in the eyes too.

I boarded the plane, and Shane let me sit up forward just behind the cockpit for the take-off. He leaned back and asked, "End of Mission, right?" I nodded acknowledgement and he smiled back. After we took off he put the Casa in a tight turn to the left, tight, tight, tight, turn. We spun around then straightened out heading straight back towards Pieri. This was an "End Of Mission, Fly-By!" Many times I had been on the ground for this. As the expat is leaving the project, the crowds gather by the airstrip to wish them well, and then the plane takes off then comes back for a flyover. The airstrip ignites in cheers and shouts as the plane flies over. So there we were, heading back to Pieri, low in the sky, right for the crowd. For that silent split second when people are close enough to see, they are in the air, arms up, and cheering, as I was back right back at them. We pulled up, and set a course for Loki. Shane leaned back and reminded me that I could stop shouting, since we were now a mile away, and at 150 knots they could probably not hear me anymore, if at all.

In the casa, we climbed to the 10,000-foot cruising height, and then leveled off. I asked if I could fly for a bit, and with some instruction I took over the controls. That was nice; I'd like to do that more often. The Casa is an older plane, and probably one of the bigger ones that doesn't have an autopilot. The way the pilots describe this non-auto pilot flying as, "real flying" reminded me very much of the sailing I have done, without auto-helm, "real sailing". All done by feel, (with minor references to the instruments) this was enjoyable.

We arrived back in Loki, where another set of recounting the good times, and making the good-byes went on. Also, I stayed there for a night, to properly say good-bye to the people here, along with my favourite Kenyan drink, a Dawa.

After some de-briefings and other goodbyes, I headed to Nairobi to continue the goodbye tour. There, I visited the office, showed some photos, shared some stories and enjoyed more comforts.

I also went to Mombasa one last time by train. I traveled with Marjan, a nurse from the project, and we met up with Liz, the Medical Coordinator from the Somalia mission. There we had a small cottage on the beach where we could cook seafood bought on the beach, (straight from the ocean), chilled tonic water and ice, and generally try our hardest to adjust back to life back home.

From there, I had another couple of days in Nairobi, (cooking my favourite Ostrich steaks), and eating at my favourite restaurants in Nairobi. Then, one clear Wednesday evening, I headed to the airport for my night departure, and off to Amsterdam I went.

I have been in Holland for a couple days now, enjoying these comforts quite nicely. The last three months in the field were much more rough (physically) than the first part of my mission. In Pieri, we only had tents to live in, the doorways were all very low, the more exposure to the sun, the rains and the winds weathered our bodies more than before too. As such, getting to the hotel in Amsterdam, I couldn't sleep even after an all-night flight, because the bed, the sheets and pillow were so-damn-soft! The next night I was fully able to get over this handicap, but I am aware that there will be an adjustment period ahead of me.

I'm not too impressed with the prices here. I had dinner one night and spent the same amount as I would in half a week vacation, food and accommodation. (It was really good though.)

So now I am in Soesterberg, attending a Logistic meeting. This is a meeting of all the Logistic Coordinators from all the MSF Holland projects in the world. My Logco could not attend, so I am here for him, representing South Sudan. After this, I'll be heading home.

At home, there is much to do, namely see my family and friends. I plan to be home for some months, and only consider going out again after New Year's. What I'll be doing, where I'll be going, etc, I only have ideas now, no plans.

So, to use the wonderful Nuer term, "Calhas" to mean 'finished', or 'no more'; used to close meetings, used to end arguments, used to described abandoned places like Lankien, and used to dismiss work-crews at the end of a long day, this chapter is "Calhas" thank you for joining me on this journey.

Love,
Steve

South Sudan Journal, Parts 28 (of 29)

stevedennis@egate.net (Steve Dennis) — Thu, 17 Nov 2005 02:53:00 +0000

Message #28 August 29, 2004
Hello Mom and Dad,
It is Sunday afternoon, the sun is finally going down, giving us some relief. The days have been hot lately. It still is the rainy season, so things are cooler than before, but still the temperatures hit 40 degrees between the cooling rains.
Today was a nice day, Sundays usually are. The week was busy, so this is well appreciated. Short sum of recent events over the last month. We finally got the go-ahead to build in Pieri. Pieri will be the new health centre in Bieh State, Eastern Upper Nile. Exciting stuff for a one horse town. Pieri is a small dot a days walk south of Waat, which is a small dot 5 days walk south of Malakal, which is a small dot many more days walk south of Kartoum, still in the middle of nowhere though. Pieri is a good place to be though. Since being here, the whole team has slept very well, and there is no tension between clans like in Lankien.
There are also big needs here too. In Lankien, we just ran a Kala Azar and TB clinic, but here we also run a Basic Health Care Clinic (BHCC), since there are no other NGOs doing that (and MSF does Basic Health Care, quite well.) So, we have many TB patients from Lankien, plus some other admissions from here (total 140 this week), about 45 KA patients, and some Inpatients in the BHCC (around 40). The place looks like a small refugee camp. We have around 20 large plastic or canvas shelters (approx 14ft x 12ft, 5mx4m) scattered around town (TB clinic here, KA there, and BHCC over in the back.) Whenever a pilot gets here who hasn't been here in a while, they ask, "Is this Pieri? I don't remember the tents."
With the go-ahead to build, we have been busy designing a new clinic area, with all the bells and whistles, (like fire-breaks, large storerooms, etc). I have had a good time with that, but a little sad to miss out in the building of it. It will take 6 months to get it all done, so I feel now is as good a time to leave as any. All the planning exercises in some courses I did, are coming to use. Latrines here, waterpoints there, centralized stores, cool pharmacy, etc. Match with that the random supply of materials and labour it becomes a little tricky, but enjoyable. Grass is only ready for roofs in a couple of months, but the water may be too high to pass at that time to collect wood.
Labour is very hard to get right now, without food. People here are the hungriest I have seen yet. Many malnourished people coming to the clinic. Also, with the sharing culture here, it is hard to feed patients, if they share their food with their family. Fortunately, WFP is on ground now, and they are assisting us in applying for different types of foods. We can get food to assist in the building of the clinic (called their, "Food for Work Program." Also, they realize that the patients will share their food, so they want to give caretaker portions too, brilliant! In the BHCC, we are feeding some people, but if the harvest holds off any longer, we may need to do a proper feeding program, (like in Lankien a year ago.)
The harvest is coming, coming, coming, soon, but coming doesn't taste as good as... food. The rains held off for a few weeks in late July, just after people planted their crops. It was feared that this would kill the seeds. We see some crops growing now, but people say the harvest will be low. These people aren't eating much at all.
My time here is coming to a close. So far, no replacement has been identified for me , but we are making plans to cover off my duties, give or take a little. It is hard to put down on paper a good practical handover. There is so much I had a hard time learning, but it is riddled with details and may not apply. Thinking of specifics, that is no good. For instance, this is the 6th office I've been working in over the last year. I won't waste paper mentioning details about the office. I am training some key staff that I have just hired, using the same lessons I was using 10 or 11 months ago. "No, you see, when you carry the 1, you have to add it to the numbers of the next column. That '1' is actually a grouping of 10..." We just hired a stores manager. This is the 4th, person in that position I've trained.
I'm starting to look back, since there is little time left here ahead of me. Some plans have me heading out of here on the 5th of September, a mere 7 days! What would you do if you had 7 days left somewhere? I'm out of ideas here, so I'm just doing what I've done before. Today though, I decided to go shopping!
Shopping in Pieri, isn't that complicated. I wanted to get two things. One is a typical bead that people have on strings around their neck. Even little kids have them. I thought with a lack of other memorabilia, this would represent one year in South Sudan. The other, is a search for something to purchase here and bring home, something locally made. There is a market, but it is often easier just to trade with a person you see with the thing you want. So, I took with me two ink pens, a box of matches, and if that didn't fetch my purchases, 2 US dollars. Mary joined me for the walk/adventure.
We started heading the opposite direction than the market, to view the airstrip. It was wet yesterday, and hopefully this sun would dry it for tomorrow's flight. Sure enough, a cluster of kids joined us for the walk. "Hello Michael, I see you have forgotten your pants again today." I said to a little boy that wears either a top or a bottom, but never both. (I think in the mornings he and a brother decide who gets which piece for the day.) "Hello E-Stiff, give me my pen!" "Good to see you too Michael. Is it going to rain?" I replied as I pointed to the growing clouds in the south. Recently the rains have been coming in the afternoon. The sky in the south get darker and darker after a hot day, then a wind draws up as the sky darkens, then the rain opens up and everything gets real wet.
Today, it was hot, clouds were building. Over the course of half an hour, I witnessed the same cloud bubble up thousands of feet into the sky, to level off like a mushroom at the same alttitude, then shadow itself. I heard thunder, and I repeated my question to Michael, this time in simple Nuer words, "Rain coming?" (Niel beben?) "Ayh." His reply ("No.") "But there is lots of water over there." "It won't rain!" I don't know how a 6 year old boy knows.
We walked the airstrip, still some water, but mostly dry; we can call the plane in, in this condition. At the other end of the airstrip, we altered course and went through the TB compound. It isn't really a compound yet, but rather an area marked by some sticks, but it is home to 140 people, and that in itself makes it a compound, I think. I like the TB patients. I have grown to know some of them, not well, but good enough to enjoy their company.
(Mary just walked into the office. She and Marjan were just busy delivering a baby boy. Mom and child well. Good moment. It is not always that good or simple.)
So, we walked around the compound and chatted a while, playing with the kids, (it's funny how kids chasing me takes on a new twist, if they are really, really dirty.) Last week I gave one of my T-shirts to an old man I like, who wanted to trade his very ripped shirt for mine. People asked me, "Why give it to him, he doesn't have too many more years." "Ah, simple, I like him, and didn't think he'd still be around these days. Besides, that's the biggest two toothed smile I've seen in a long time, that deserves it." As Mary and I walked around, another patient, with an equally ripped shirt asked to trade shirts. "Okay, once the plane to take me away lands, you can have my last T-shirt." He pulled at my shirt again. I frequently realise how bad my Nuer is, but I try anyway. I started counting off some days. In Nuer, there are great words for, tomorrow, next tomorrow, the after next tomorrow, and the day after the after next tomorrow. Also, if you put a "long" at the end of a word, it stressed, or the same as saying, "many" or "very" depending on context. So, I counted up to the day after the day after 5 next tomorrows plus some days, I would leave and give my T-shirt to him. We smiled and he laughed. I think I confused him enough for now, but in a week, he'll be back, I think.
He brought me to the big game of old men. This is a game played in the ground, where there are four rows of 13 small shallow holes in the ground. Two small dried clay beads start in each hole. There is grabbing and laying out the beads in different ways, to gain some from the other side. Two people play against each other, and days can be spent at it. Someone shifted to share a goatskin on the ground, so I sat for a while. The usual greetings passed around, and comments on the weather. Even though we could see the rain falling in the distance, these men confirmed that rain would not be coming to us. And the kids still seem to get facinated by my leg hair and generally just play with my shirt, watch, whatever they can. We sat and talked a little. Not too much, or too complicated. Occassionally, someone would ask me to make a move, and I could hear talking, "I wonder what the Kawai will do?" So, I think a little, and make a move on the game, counting as they do, (they still laugh at my pronunciations) then to their great amusement, I roughly tell the opponent in a rude, "Done, you go!" and the crowd breaks into a big laugh. Sometimes someone asks me something, and my Nuer Fluency Bluff is called. To counter, I ryhme off something in Spanish to equally confuse the ones that know a little English, and again we are laughing and watching the game.
I saw a man with a necklase of the beads I wanted. "Where can I get one of these?" I asked. "One small, come here." I tried in Nuer. He took it off, then put it around my neck and we went back to watching the game. This really is a sharing culture. I asked for something. He mis-understood my question, but gave what he thought I wanted, and that's it. I showed him more what I wanted, and he understood. He untied the necklase, and called someone to get a knife to cut one off. I grabbed my knife and then the bead was given to me. He then asked for my knife. He like it. "Ah, ur, um, ooo, how do I say this??? Can we share something else of mine, I really like my knife?" He gave back the knife, and we went back to watching the game.
A bird crapped on my shoulder, and the man next to me laughed. The bird continued his act, and hit him, and I laughed. We wipped off the good luck wishes from above, then went back to watching the game.
A man tells us something, then he proceeds to the village slaughter board. There was a cow slaughtered yesterday. We bought a wonderful cut for dinner last night. So, I guess this is the day-olds; just like Tim Horton's, not as good as the Every Day Fresh ones. We wondered for a look-see. Sure enough, not looking good, but worthy of a photo. Click.
We walked on to the market. When I say market, it is a loose term. It is a gathering of 6 small tukels in an area slightly higher than the surrounding, and thus dry. We again took off our sandles, waded through some water and arrived at the market. There were 30 people or so in total, about as busy as it gets. There really is only some clothes, some medicines, some sugar and salt, and a few small other things. But, I found something made of a WFP bag, and the negotiations started. "10 (dollars)" my adversary said. "I only have dinars," I replied, knowing I could win if there was math involved. "What is that in Dinars?" "This is going to be easy, eh." "How much?" "With some loose math, it is 400." "Make it 600." "Give me two." "Okay 400." "Gualong.”
We ventured to the far end of the market (10 meters or so from the near end) and off with the sandles and through some water to get to the BHCC. Passing through, the health worker on duty had a question for Mary, and the guard had a question for me. I finished with the guard's question, then wandered back to our home compound, passing patients waving from their lying down stance on the ground; big smiles. Passed some more of the community, passing greetings back and forth. There was a cluster of other men around a cloth, that is the dominos game. The man building our new latrine wanted to show me some things he did. "Looks good, not so many windows and the door has to be able to open." "I want to go, pay me." "Tomorrow we talk. It is Sunday." "Okay." Then big hello to Kouk the guard, and back home. Besides the airstrip, this was an adventure taking me only about 50 to 100 meters from our compound, but it is all through Pieri central. I will try to take an arial photo on my way out. Pieri, like Lankien, is a small place. Well, it is now later in the evening. The WFP team gave us some of the goat they bought today, fresh today. Sammy and Charlie cooked it up, and I must sample it. They make the best stews.
As I said, my time here is limited to a week or two more. After that, I want to get to a beach, then to London to see Joe before going to Amsterdam. I have been asked to attend a meeting of Logistic Coordinators (Logco) from around different countries. My Logco cannot attend, so he asked me to attend. Could give me some things to help me take a next step (after a long break at home.) So that is near the end of September, and after that home in early October!
Any curious photos people want before I leave?
Alright, I think that is all for now. Good night, I hope all is well with everyone. Lots of Love,
Steve

South Sudan Journal, Parts 26 & 27 (of 29)

stevedennis@egate.net (Steve Dennis) — Thu, 17 Nov 2005 02:50:00 +0000

Message #26 June 16, 2004,
Hello Mom and Dad.
I'm in Pieri, South Sudan, right now. The team has assembled here to try to fit together a plan to remedy the situation we seem to be in. As I mentioned to Dad on the phone on June 19th, the team was evacuated Tuesday, June 8th. This was the most disturbing evacuation in a long time. This time, there was another killing, of a high ranking official. As such, the village evacuated, anticipating a fight. The team walked to Pultruk, and were picked up there in the morning.
With the community evacuated, the patients were also gone. Approximately 40 TB patients walked with the team to Pultruk. After our team was pulled out, another plane was sent to transfer these patients to another TB project run by MSF Holland in Western Upper Nile. Unfortunately, when the plane arrived, the airstrip was flooded and the plane could not land. Food was dropped, with a message to head to Pieri (3 days walk south) where we would set up a clinic to continue their treatment. More than one week later, no patients had arrived yet.
Flights over Lankien show some disturbing things. The market is burned, there are what look to be papers and other garbage all around, as if the clinics, compounds and everywhere else is looted. We will try to go in soon to see the damage and salvage what we can.
For now, we are in Pieri to build a temporary clinic, until there is a better solution. We have 200 patients in our care, all of which have diseases that will kill them. We are waiting to get our patients back, and depending on the availability of planes, and the cooperation of the rains, to pick them up in various locations.
There is more to do now, I'll head off now.
18-06-04. Today, I believe, was my last time seeing Lankien, my home for the last 9 months. We were able to come up with a plane, a plan and the equipment to do it. All this to get to our patients, take the really sick ones, and tell the others where to meet us. The plan was to fly to Pultruk, where many of them evacuated to, and where many were seen from the air on the unsuccessful trips to get them. If Pultruk was wet, we would land in Lankien, send a team to walk the 14kms to Pultruk to get to the patients and with the remaining team in Lankien, salvage what we could, lock up the rest and go back to Pieri. Omari, Marjan and I were the salvagers, and are back now in Pieri. Jan (my PC) and Mary (a Doctor) went to Pultruk and will stay there overnight.
When we arrived on ground, it was a difficult sight to see. As before, with the fire, fences were down, chaos was throughout and I started to doubt that this was the same place we held clinics, less than a month ago. Of everything we had, very little remained. There were piles of papers (thrown out of binders), drugs (tossed out of the containers), needles and syringes (emptied from the boxes), and little else. Of all our food (patient and other, more than 10 tons) nothing remained. Of all the buildings, no doors, door jambs, door thresholds remained. Of all the large tents, only the metal frames remained. Of all the everything, very little or nothing remained. There are so many things that would be useless to anyone within 100 miles of here, but nothing remained.
I went around and took some photos. These are the same photos I took many times before. The office, when I arrived. The office when it was getting re-thatched. The office after it burned down. The new office tent. The new office as it was being built. And now, the frame and a pile of papers where the office used to shelter us. Other areas of the clinic had similar stories.
As we salvaged what we could, Jan and Mary headed north to Pultruk. Also, the word was spread out to the few people who were there to meet the plane, to bring out the TB patients that remained in Lankien. And so they did.
In the hour and a half we had on ground, we were able to find some patient records (blowing in the breeze), a handful of other useful papers, one vaccine fridge, and some tent frames (for the large shelters). We gathered these up at the plane and started loading. After loading, we had 10 patients (with a whole assortment of children and caretakers, 20 in total), our salvaged gear, the three of us, and the three flight crew.
The captain wouldn't let us take back on the plane the bag of maize (corn) that we brought for any patients we couldn't take with us. So lacking any staff, any patients, or any other adult I knew, I found a trustworthy looking guy who spoke some English. "Can you share this with everyone?" "Yes." "Am I an elephant?" "Yes." Hmmm, English not so good. In my best Nuer, I signaled to the 20 people there that this was for everyone, and figured it was better that they fight over it, than that person take it all.
"We have to leave now, the rains will be here soon," was our Captain's signal to say goodbye and leave. I looked around, and the only one I really wanted to say goodbye to was Banak. He is a 8-10 year old orphan that the clinic kind of adopted. I say, "kind of," because it really wasn't anything, except letting him into the clinic when he wasn't suppose to be and looking away when he stole something. He always came to the airstrip to help unload and carry things, never asked for anything either. Many of the other kids hit him and teased him, and he would run behind us and grab a hand of one of us and the kids would stop. I think he had status through us (or maybe just sanctuary behind us). He never wore anything, partially I think because he is a free-spirit and therefore clothes cramp his style. But also, mostly, because whatever he finds, he trades for food. The more I think of it, I miss that boy. Everyone here knows him well, I hope he makes it to Pieri. I leaned over and took his gritty, sweaty, hand one more time. I said some things, he said some things, as we did many times before. Neither of us understood what the other ever said, this time no different, then I got onboard. As we left, Banak stood at the side of the airstrip, naked as a thin black tree in a clearing, smiling, and waving. To me, Banak is Lankien personified. His parents beat him and orphaned him because he was different. He smiled like anyone else, but he, like Lankien, had a rain-cloud overhead, all his life. I wish things were better for him, I wish they were better for Lankien. That may be the last I see of him and Lankien. Good Luck Banak! Good Luck Lankien! As we took off, for some reason, or no reason at all, tears overcame me.
We arrived in Pieri half an hour later. The patients clapped loudly. Rescued from Lankien by plane, what a day! For all of them, it was their first time flying. For many of them, they will try their best to walk back after they get better, flying was not for them.
We settled them into the shelters we just made, gave out some food, and went back to setting up more store rooms, etc. A lot of work went into building Lankien into what it was when we left. It will take some time to do the same here.
19-06-04. Jan and Mary arrived in Pultruk and found 100 TB patients. That is more than we anticipated. After hearing that, Omari and I set together some more plans to build, build, build! We were able to erect some of the poles from Lankien, covered with some plastic from Loki, to make the equivalent of 5 large tukels. For 100 patients, that is still tight. Also, 100 patients is more than a plane load, in the best of times, with the best of planes. We planned to use the remains of the Western Upper Nile flight today to ferry some to Pieri today, and the same tomorrow. The plane, the plan, and the equipment again fell together effortlessly, after much effort.
Today, we received 5 plane loads of people. It was the small plane, but with low fuel and thin patients, we got approximately 50 patients, and another 30 caretakers here. More shelters went up, more food distributed and now drug programs resumed. Today was a very busy day.
It was a good time to be here. The patients stepping off the plane, like explorers setting foot on new soil. "This will do, I'm staying," many faces expressed as they got their legs working again. People saw old faces in the crowd, and there were smiles, laughs and tears of happiness. This was all muffled while the plane was still running and some of the staff were running with us to get the plane unloaded and off for another run. Walking around town today, there were many people with smiling faces coming up to me saying, "Hello Steve." There was a communal sigh of relief, as one would express coming home after a week away. It was pleasant to be alive in such a place.
This community is really excited MSF is here. Anything that is asked of them, they do. Dig a latrine here, fence here and new tukel here. "Okay, we'll talk with the community and see what we can do." And they do, and it gets done.
At night, the sky has been rumbling a little, as if it is threatening to storm. That could slow this recovery operation down a lot. I think there is a consciousness, or spirit in the environment in South Sudan. Since I got here, I felt like I was in a battle with South Sudan. Days of security, it was hot. Cool days, it rained. Clear days, the staff would give us problems. Days where the staff was friendly, the community would be un-cooperative. When the community was good, fires took out the compound. When the compound was re-built (with good fire-breaks and fire fighting gear in stock) insecurity ruled in Lankien, and all was lost to looting. Each time MSF and South Sudan fought, we got knocked down, and slowly rose again. This time, we are rising again, even if just slowly. Today, we stole a clever victory away from South Sudan with the 50 patients that we brought here. Tomorrow we will try again.
Many people ask me, "Why bother?" I too have asked this same question to myself many times. And today I got a clear answer for anyone, and everyone asking that question, "BECAUSE IT MATTERS THE WORLD TO THESE 50, AND THE OTHER HUNDREDS THAT WILL PASS THROUGH THIS CLINIC IN THE COMING 2-3 MONTHS, AND THE HUNDREDS AFTER THAT! That's why. That's why I bother, and why the heck not?"
There is still much to do. I should get going. Tomorrow, we will receive another 30 patients or so, if the rains hold off. Also, people are starting to come here on foot. Soon we will have 200 sick, hungry, cold patients, all demanding by their condition (illness), drugs, food and shelter. Much to do, much to do.
In all of this, the team and I are fine. It took careful planning and clear communication over the last few days, and the team did that very well. A good test for the coming months will be to try to steal away other small victories from South Sudan.
Take care all. It was great to be home for a short time to see some of you. Sorry I didn't get to see all of you though. But, as before, I'll be back in the fall and will see you then. Lots of love,

Steve

Message #27 July 24, 2004

Hello Mom and Dad,
July 24th!!! It seemed like just last week I was announcing to the whole of South Sudan, at a frequency of XXXX MHz on our HF radio, "GOOD MORNING, AND HAPPY CANADA DAY!!!" The unenthused reply I received, "negative copy, please repeat," alerted me to the fact that I was alone in the celebrations of the day. But with enough patient explaining (and maple syrup from my private, evacuation-proof stash,) everyone was pleased that Canada gained it's independence from the ??? rulers, in the year ???, "can I have some more of the sugar water please?" "The British, we asked the British to leave and they did, and we've been nice people ever since. And it's MAPLE SYRUP!" I have been silent in my writings for a while. Please know this is not a bad thing.

I can fill you in on what has been going on here, (ie. details,) but I think it best to instead just go through the events of a day, actually this day, and all the important things will come through. Feel free to email back here, just know that the email address has changed, ironically to this: XXXXXXLankien @xxxxxxxxx.

~0600, not exactly 0600, but near when the sun starts thinking of coming up... If the people involved had a watch, they wouldn't be up that early. "Hhhhhaaayyyyaaa, blah blah blah....." The local SPLA barracks, full of 4 people, turned out and pledged allegiance to the flag of South Sudan as it was raised, just 50 odd meters from our compound. I can appreciate the ceremony, but would appreciate it more if moments of silence were part of the proceedings too. It was pointed out to the team one day: "Everyone MUST remain still as the flag is raised or lowered!" In fear of disobeying the local SPLA forces, I stayed still in my bed, and a couple more hours of sleep washed over my eyes.

0745, I could hear the team talking about the latest news and local talk. I like how my tent is right next to the eating table. I don't like alarm clocks, and this version of the morning news is not too intrusive on the mind or ears. Plus, when I finally rise up, I am briefed on people's dreams and odd noises everyone 'should have heard' last night. I'm sure my Mother will be proud to hear that I still excel in the strenuous discipline of being a good sleeper.

0757, Time to rise, to make it to the morning meeting. As per usual, the team is assembled, "Morning Steve" comes unanimously from the team, and I head to the office and grab my day planner. As I return to the table to make my tea, (Earl grey, Kenyan style with lots of sugar and powdered milk, in a half litre plastic feeding cup) I sit as Francis' radio plays the theme to BBC Africa's hourly news, and someone's watch beeps. "It's 8 o'clock, and now for the hourly news... click" Good morning, Jan our PC greets the already assembled group, the day has just begun.
0800 Our morning 8 o'clock meetings are a good chance to disperse project information that would be too intrusive at the dinner table. I like how everyone makes an effort to separate work and non-work, and these meetings give us a chance to make up for that lapse of work, work, work. We discuss events over the night such as, there was a very mal-nourished boy the team was dealing with for the last few days. He came in, in a deplorable state. No one here has ever seen an 8 year old boy, weighing 7 kilograms. "The stuff they throw in front of the camera," Mary told me when she saw him, and until I saw him, I thought many things I saw, were the things TV ad's were made of. He died last night, and the other lady (we have been having a rash of deaths from lactating mothers recently) doesn't look so good either.

We also discuss the day's work ahead. Today was Saturday, so that is food distribution day for the patients. I like this day. Not only do I get a math class with a staff member and a patient, but after the distribution to the TB clinic, I talk with the patients.

My work for the day would involve the food distribution, but also meeting with the local authorities about some roofing work in the clinic, hiring a carpenter for a skylight (yes, a skylight! It is really just a void of grass, replaced with a transparent sheet of plastic, but to the unseeing medical staff member inside the tukel, this is technology at it's greatest!), sending orders for more and more stuff, (including "Steve, can we get a ..." "It's dinner, Steve's not working right now, you’ll find him here in morning, or if it is urgent, after dinner"), reply to a few emails about, "how many microlitres do you want for that micro-pipette that was ordered last week?" "What size solar panels do other projects have, and can we borrow them?" and "Where is WFP?"

0830 Radio contact. Sky: slightly cloudy. Airstrip: Wet, unlandable. Security: Normal. People: 7. No messages. From Loki, "There will be a UN plane coming to you around XXXX (time coded)." "I repeat, We are very wet, and unlandable, just like yesterday." "They want to see themselves." "Okay." Then there was a 10 minute pause, as the team gathered by the airstrip to watch the UN Buffalo pass over and over the airstrip. Would have been messy if they tried to land, but after some time, they moved on. Maybe next time they will be curious about what we mean by, "VERY WET, UNLANDABLE."

0900 John and Gatluak came to attend their weekly math lesson. Brief update. We are still in Pieri, and again on a holding operation. The team (including your infinitely patient author) is frustrated by this. There are people we want to hire, things we want to build and patients we want to admit, but we are holding off full operations until the decision to stay or go somewhere else, is made. (We are also slowly getting used to the 43 inch high doorways, living in tents, and general uneasiness in the compound. I think the longer this holding continues, the lesser I will be able to distinguish between a survivable and an unacceptable way to live.)

Being here, on hold, has ment that my Lankien logistic staff of 7-9 labourers, 9 guards, 7 cleaners, 1 storekeeper, 8 waterladies, etc, has been replaced with me, two guards and 'resourcefulness'. I had noticed in Lankien that the Math lessons were EVER-SO-SLOWLY paying off, and as such, with limitation put on any other building project, I decided to build on the people we have. The people we have consist of a limited amount of medical staff, the two guards (Simon and Kouk) and patients. And so, I have started an intensive semi-private math lessons to John (medical staff) and Gatluak (TB patient with passable English).

0901 The math lesson begins. "Okay, let's see the homework from last time." 0902 "If you didn't understand the homework, you could have come to see me anytime during the week."

0903 "If you didn't know you could see me anytime in the week, you could have come to... Okay, let's try this another way." And so my degree at the Beih State, South Sudan Teacher's College of Fine Arts and Infinite Excuses, where I am doing a Major Degree in Patience Studies, has had a surprise quiz. The problem is, we were doing a multiplication matrix. Lining up those damn rows and columns, then to do it all over again for the reciprocal numbers, is a little too much. But, these two have the multiplication skills, just not the speed; as if things like the rapid growth of tomato plants, or the racing of a snails, can be referred to with such swift words like, "speed." If they didn't get 9 out of 10 multiplication questions right, I would give up, but they get it, and so, we try again.

There are a lot of math demands around the clinic, stores, and pharmacy. Also, here there is an incredible lack of those skills. Most people, I think, learn math first with money. Here, there really isn't that much money, and as such, people don't learn the numbers. Also, as a kid, I remember learning some math with the stacking of similar objects, or playing with Lego. Not much to stack here, or for that matter add together to get something; construction is mostly, add some sticks, add some mud, roof it with some grass, and you have built a roughly roundish shelter.

The math lessons focus around the food distribution. There is addition: Number of TB patients plus Number of Kala Azar patients. There is multiplication: 166 patients times 4 kilograms of sorghum each equals? There are realistic checking mechanisms: "Really, 8 kilograms of sorghum will feed 166 patients?" And there are rewards for correct answers: "John got the answer right, maybe it would be best for you to move the 500 kilos of sorghum out of the store and think about how to be right next time." (Kidding, there are no wrong answers, and we help move the items together.)

By 1030, we are done the TB and KA portionings, and the food is heading over to the clinics for distribution on the heads of the women, or under the arms of the men with wheelbarrows (here too, heavy lifting is left to the women, unless it involves a status machine, like a wheelbarrow, then the men get involved, as long as the novelty is there). Over the last month, we have been working hard with the patients and staff that have been distributing the food, to encourage them to stick to the amounts that we provide. They play a game called, "We portioned out the food as you told us. Now all the food is gone, and there are 10 patients without any." It is a game, because they know, we know, that they are playing on our inability to allow someone to go hungry. They are winning, since this is true. We are winning because I am slowly educating them on the portioning side of things, and now, there is no excuse, (except for bad math, or wrong distribution technique) as to why the amounts are not right.

1200, More patients admitted, dealt with the food and relief item distributions. A difficult thing going on here with regard to the distribution of relief items, (Relief items are things like a 1m X 2m plastic sheet to sleep on, a 1 litre plastic bottle for water, a cup, a blanket, a piece of soap, etc) is that the community around the clinic is jealous of the luxuries the patients get. Plastic sheeting, wow! One could put that on their roof, and not have to re-grass it every year, free from leaking! The patients are asking for more, but the gap between our patient care, and the state of the community is growing fast. What good is it to cure TB, if a patient leaves the clinic and becomes mal-nourished?

Email some answers to our purchasers in Nairobi. Had a moment to reflect on how our power supply system was doing in this usually overcast weather ( we only have solar panels here too). Had some lunch, then back to work. Saturdays are a half day. So, we usually work till the usual lunch time, but then instead of taking a siesta (between 1400 and 1500) and working again after that, we work through lunch thinking that if we finish just one more thing, then the day will be over.

1330 The TB patients were done the food distribution. Over the last month and a bit, I have been talking with them at this time in the week, just about how things are going. I think they like the attention, and I find it helpful in solving the logistic problems of feeding and housing 150 people. Also, with 'resourcefulness' as my Logistic Assistant, and no other labour force, it is a good time to share our problems and share the solution. With the difficulties with the displacement from Lankien, there has been a drastic cutting down of any expectation, and the language has changed from things like, "You need to do _____ for me." and "This tukel you put me in is leaking, you must fix it." To discussions like, "We have been using the tools you gave us for cleaning and maintaining the compound. We need some string to do some repairs."

Some of the conversation went as follows:

"Ma-le!" (They always laugh when I speak Nuer. I think they like my accent.)"The food ration as you have told me, is too little. (Translated) But the number of caregivers is close to the number of patients. (Translated) This is getting too much to feed. (Translated, one or two groans.) With too many caregivers, that is less food for you the patients. (Translated) Let us discuss this and find a solution.""It is part of our culture that men do not cook, and as such a man patient must have a wife there to cook for him. Women patients cannot do all the work themselves and they all need caregivers. Therefore, everyone needs a caretaker."

"Right now it appears that we virtually employ 70 people to cook for and care for 96 patients. (Translated) I think I can employ 10 people to do the same work, cooking and caring for the patients. (Translated, much talk now) Is it part of your culture to get food from MSF at all?"
The crowd laughs. I like this part. The things we are discussing in these talks are basic things they are asking for, and trivial reasons why I cannot provide them. Humour at these times keeps the tensions low, and keeps us working together. It is obvious that we are from different worlds. As I look around the group, half the people I see are nearly naked; knees, breasts, or bums sticking through worn out clothing. Some children near my feet are playing with my sandals. Another child in the clearing stops walking, squats and defecates on the ground in the middle of the circle. The caring mother whisks the child away, clears the mess with a couple sticks, and the meeting never pauses, because this is an everyday happening in their home. Cows, children, goats and the local crazy lady all crap in their home. Visitors here have commented that some refugee camps are better provisioned, I believe them.

I constantly fear the discussion being turned to a personal tone, something like, "You try living off of what we eat! It is not enough!" Kees, our medical coordinator told me once, "I tried the WFP ration amounts, for one week." "How was it?" I naively asked. "How the hell do you think it is, at the end of the week you're frick'n hungry!"

I think I have gained a respect with the patients, partially by listening, and partially by finding solutions to their problems, even if it is using their labour. Maybe it is just caring when not many others do. As such, my lifestyle, my luxuries in our compound, my meals, my ability to email home, my salary, my medical insurance, my return ticket, etc, has never been questioned.
We give out an empty 3 litre cooking oil jerrycan (with the other relief items) to every TB patient on admission.

"I just gave birth, I should get another jerrycan."

"I lost my jerrycan in the insecurity in Lankien, I should get another jerrycan.""I'm an old man, I should get one too."

"The large jerrycans we are keeping for new admissions, but I have 25 small ones for you. (Translated) Unfortunately there are more than 25 patients, so we cannot give one to each person. (Translated) I have an idea how to hand them out, but most times people don't want to hear my thoughts."

"Continue." The crowd asks.

"When someone builds a shelter for the clinic, they should get one. (Translated) When someone cleans the clinic compound, they should get one. (Translated) When someone helps unload the plane, they should get one."

"And I just delivered a baby."

"And the new mothers and the ones that lost theirs in Lankien, and the old man with the funny eye and bad leg in the back too, should get one, or someone should share theirs with them. (Translated) but if it were my jerrycans, I would reward the efforts of those helping everyone. (Translated)"

"But they are your jerrycans?" a confused reply came back.

"If they belonged to All of you?"

Lots of talk came from this last comment. In the ensuing conversation it was determined that Choul (a respected patient) and Gatluak (my Math student with decent English) would be the dispensers of the jerrycans, as they felt were appropriate, based on people's participation for communal activities, and a portion would be given to others that couldn't participate, but needed some social assistance. To this, the group agreed.

The group of consisting of approximately 30 people, representing (more or less) the patients in TB, not only agreed on something positive, but did it with such vigor that it felt like a grab of responsibilities at a fire sale. Other momentary examples of inspiring talk haven't amounted to much, before the move to Pieri. Here, with a shake-up of the routines, responsibilities and expectations, I have been moved by other people's energy into the cause I had often felt I had been fighting alone. In Lankien, we had staff strikes, some close discussions about patient strikes, and general discontent for everyone. Here, things are different. After the last heavy rainfall, there were men with shovels and digging hoes clearing the drainage channels from the airstrip. "Can we borrow some shovels," sounds much better on the soul than the previous, "if you are so concerned about the airstrip, you should hire some more people and send them to the airstrip yourself. It is only your planes that land here anyway." (True, it is only our planes that land there. We are the last ones to care about you, and it is wearing thin.)

I guess the biggest thing I like about this group, is that in the lack of anything else I will be able to hand-over to my replacement, I feel I have added, EVER-SO-SLOWLY, to the stuff of the people, the stuff that remains after the fires and through the insecurities. Back to the question, the resonating echo, whispered in every tense moment, and chanted at every victory, "Does it really matter after all?" I still feel, no it doesn't. All the little things and the big ones here to, do not matter, they will all return back to dust. However, with some of this good stuff floating around, life is a little more pleasant in the meanwhile, and that is worth it all.

I think I will leave it there for tonight. Trust that the afternoon was filled and worth living completely as well.

One more note: I see the calendar of the months going by. I remember thinking June was the month, so far in the future, which I have to survive until. Now I look at it as the month I would have prematurely left this place. Still looking at the calender, I look ahead at September and think, I'm not ready to leave just yet. I think I am falling in love with South Sudan, her temper, her stirring moments, her mystery, her simplicity and her beauty. People ask me if I regret extending my contract, especially after the evacuations, the fire and the recent displacement. No, not at all. In fact, I applaud my intellect on that decision, and wonder if the rewards would come to me, if I stood up again and stated, "I'll extend," in the company of the right people. I feel though, as I look around at this mud tukel (our office/lab/pharmacy/log store single room), hearing the termites eating the roof, watching a rat dig away part of the wall and the rain erode other parts, South Sudan will always be here, and what she lacks in style, she makes up for in consistency; she's not going to change! Given time, more than most places in the world, everything standing will crumble, and become the building materials of the next people through the area. For here, I think that the life-cycle is measured in months, not decades. For me, the time is good to return home in the fall, and I'll catch-up with SSudan again sometime, and if not in person, at least in my dreams.

Lots of Love,

Steve

South Sudan Journal, Parts 23 (of 29)

stevedennis@egate.net (Steve Dennis) — Thu, 17 Nov 2005 02:49:00 +0000

Message #23 March 30, 2004

Hello Mom and Dad.

Well it is the end of March, and once again this has been an eventful month. I wrote before of the fire and insecurity, but maybe I'll summarize a little and bring you up to date.

Tuesday, March 2nd: shooting in Lankien. Decision to evacuate reconsidered after brothers of killed person give guarantees of security in Lankien.

Friday, March 5th: Fire in compound, destroying lab, office, 6 storerooms, 2 latrines, 3 expat living tukels and much fencing. No one was injured. Thought to be accidental. Many unaffected stores and guard tukels were looted in the confusion.

Sunday, March 7th: Team pulled out for a break, with a relief team put in for the week to sort some of the mess out. Arjan, our head of mission, asked us to come to Nairobi for the week to relax, however with the difficult situation in Lankien, we decided to stay in Loki and prepare for our re-entry and continuation of the program. We had almost 300 patients (all on treatment for terminal illnesses) watch us as we left a still burning compound for Loki. We gave our best re-assurances of a quick return, but we didn't know how many would believe us, and hold hope.

Sunday, March 14th: After a week out, and some much needed rest, the team was brought back in. Within three hours of our arrival, some men entered the clinic, looking for people from the family that killed their brother on the 2nd. One staff member was threatened, but not taken by them. Again, serious meetings with Isaac the counterpart followed. That night the decision was made to evacuate the next day, since the previous guarantees on the security of our staff, patients and clinics were not honoured.

Monday, March 15th: Team evacuated to Loki less than 24 hours after arriving the day before.

Wednesday, March 17th: We all arrived in Nairobi. This time Arjan didn't ask us if we wanted to come to Nairobi, tickets were booked for us. I agree with that decision, now. In the face of the latest stressful situations, it is difficult to notice how tired one becomes.

Friday, March 19th: After doing the work that couldn't wait till later, four of us were sent on to Mombassa to find a beach and supervise good food and cold drink intake for a while. A small group of the team was held back to go back in on the Sunday to bring more food and drugs. We were very concerned about patients defaulting. By taking on treatment of diseases like TB, we take on the responsibility to get around all obstacles to
continue treatment to conclusion. If partial treatment happens, then the patient leaves, drug resistance can occur in the disease. In such a case, our drugs will no longer be effective in the treatment. As such, we need to get around insecurities, fires and lootings, if we are going to do treatment in Lankien. And common thoughts have it that there is still enough security for us to try, and with no where else for people to go, there is reason too.

Saturday, March 20th till Thursday March 25th: Diani beach, just south of Mombasa. We stayed at a nice cottage right on the beach, where the palm trees meet the sun and sand. In the mornings men would walk by trying to sell their morning catches of lobsters, calamari, prawns, fruits and veggies too. We had a kitchen in the cottage, so it was time for a feast; and we did.

Friday, March 26th: Back to Loki, meeting up with the rest of the team, and getting ready to go back in again on Monday. They had gone in on Wednesday as well, but not much changed in the security situation, so upcoming plans were just to visit, re-stock food and drugs, and leave again.

Monday, March 29th: Visit to Lankien. Still some staff members were missing (run away due to insecurity specific to them, because of relation to the family that did the killing on the 2nd.)

With the current situation, we will continue these visits. Our next one is on the 4th of April. We are waiting on a meeting to finish off all the chiefs and headmen, as well as some SPLA commanders. Once this meeting is over, more authority will be back in the area, and we can discuss the terms of our return. For now though, we are in Loki for a longer haul. For me that is alright. With the fire destroying almost all of what we had, there is much planning and ordering to do. For our medical staff, they are going out to some outreach locations to continue work there.

So that is the short story of how the month has gone. It has been an interesting one. Maybe to give you a better picture of it (and I'll have to do more of these written pictures, since my digital camera was looted during the fire) here is a day in the life of yours truly.

Monday, March 29th: Going back into Lankien for the day.

0515 alarm goes off, my ears hurt a little. The next 45 minutes are filled with shower (why bother, I'm going back into the dust) prepare some eggs for lunch, gather some money from the safe (staff payments today, if there is time), dress, pack lots of water, pause for a moment to listen to the call to prayer (there is a mosque nearby), mumble the two words, "goodmorning," and, "how'r'u'doing?" to those mumbling back to me. Climb into the back of the landcruiser with the rest of the team (there are 7 of us going in today, Evert, Sammy, Hannah, Mary, Lindsay, Charlie and myself), and bump along the road to the airstrip, in the Loki morning air.

It hasn't rained that much lately in Loki. I think the last time it rained, you could count the individual drops as the heavens tried one last time to squeeze the last out of the clouds. The time before that, it was December. The road is dusty. The side of the road is black by the light, but under that, I know it is dusty brown too. Even the thorn bushes are dusty brown. Our landcruiser bumping along the road leaves a wake of dust too, but just a drop in the bucket.

In the pre-dawn light, you could see the outlines of the Turkana (native people to this area) carrying water and coal to town. The men ride bikes with three jerry cans on the back, the women carry one jerry can on their heads, and the children kick jerry cans along the ground. I often wonder about the medical implications of any repetitive strain injuries caused by kicking a jerrycan along a road for a kilometer, two or three times a day. As the dust wake is blown towards them, I see them lean into it. Again I am reminded of my fortunate life.

We clear customs (what a joke, but they are getting more serious these days) and then get driven down the airfield to where our plane sits. We pass 5 large Hercules airplanes, run by WFP (World Food Program), they do the majority of the airdrops in South Sudan. There are a few buffalos (I still cringe when I hear them taking off over the MSF compound in Loki), some smaller Antinofs, (spelling?) then an array of caravans and twin otters.

In the corners of the airfield are the skeletons of airplanes past; remaining in Loki for the right purchaser, spare parts, or just neglect of a wreck.

We arrive at the plane (a Casa 22, pride of Turbine Relief Flight Operations), and greet Shane and Nirov, our pilots. Shane and Nirov have been flying us almost exclusively, and as such we have a very good relationship. Our morning conversation is a little more extensive than before, but still under 20 words. We pile into the plane and take our seats. Shane turns around to see how people are doing. Charlie grabs a handful of earplugs and hands them out, and I open the cooler to see what food will be served today, (Ah, samosas, I love those little things.)

The take-off is smooth, (Loki has a tarmac runway) and after 15 minutes we are beyond the lower altitude turbulence. I get out the stack of money and staff salary sheet. There will be some people laid off today, so I split off that amount to make it smoother. With that done, time for a break. Evert and I head to the back of the plane where there is a load of 50kg maize bags; perfect! With a little adjustment, two bed size clearings are made on the soft load, and two people lying down in them. The drone of the engines lull me to a slumber.

In what seemed like a minute or two, my ears were hurting a little. Just as an alarm clock nags me every morning, the plane descending for the landing wakes me from my maize bag bed. I look outside and confirm, we are low. The different sounds of the plane tell me as well, we are approaching. That sound is when they lower the flaps 40% and that sound is when they slow the throttle, soon there will be a slight turn to the right as we line up to the airstrip.

I move forward in the plane to the front where I can see out ahead of the plane. In the distance, there is the white landmark of a plane at the end of our airstrip. I look downward and see the loose maze of footpaths, and random grouping of tukels and wonder how old someone is when they first see something straight. (A straight path, a straight stick, a straight anything.)

The airstrip is clear, so there is no need to overfly it. We slow and makea final approach. In the plane we have cold drinks, warm food andcomfortable seats. Just ahead of us now, is Lankien, where everything isdifferent. There is an anxiety that floods through me on the approach and landing in Lankien, and other places. I don't know what it is, but it is happening every time I arrive. I know it isn't the flying, because when I am heading out of Lankien, or out of other forgein places, I don't get it, but entering into the unknown brings an uneasy feeling.

The landing is smooth, one of the smoothest I think Nirov has given us yet. We taxi to our unloading area. (That sounds so formal, an "unloading area," it is just a place in the clearing that is wider than the rest, and therefore a good place to park a plane.) The back of the plane opens, and I'm back in Lankien.

I know I'm back, by the smiles of the people greeting us. A lot of the staff have become friends. Sure we don't share much, (traditions, values, problems, habits, goals, etc.) but what we do share, there is plenty to go around, (respect, greetings, happiness in each other's presence, etc). I have gotten into the habit when out on R&R, to save my empty water bottles to bring back for them. These are so valuable for them, but tossed out back home. I think I embarrassed Christina a little when we were coming back from Zanzibar, when there was a little crunching noise from my pack. Our talk went something like, "What is that?" "Just some water bottles." "How many?" "12 or so." "You're crazy." "It seems odd, but there are two places where a crazy man is normal, one is the circus, and the other is where I choose to work, Lankien." The Loki customs guy found me out too, but he gave me a look like I wasn't the only one that does that. And besides that, I have bought Math and English books for them too. For $1, you can get a small exercise book. After one of the guards showed me his English book, all dog-eared and worn from use, and in broken English asked me for another one, I found a couple of dollars I wasn't putting to much use. When I first arrived, I was overwhelmed by all the asking, but now I have been able to pick and choose my small extra efforts.

There is John Lul, my Logistic Supervisor, smiling ear to ear. I like John, a lot. I can't trust him, (he suffers from the same hardships as everyone else in Lankien, and therefore everything MSF owns, is an opportunity), but he is a hard worker and good man. There is Big Issac, the huge man that lost my wire cutters and broke out in tears when he told me about it. And there is David, the brother, or cousin, or I don't know who, but he is standing in for someone else, but has proved to be a great worker, and I think I'll keep him. The carpenter, David, also a little quiet, I think he is sober today.

Greetings are a little difficult. Two people approach each other, right hand extended, and palm forward. When they get close, they put their hand on the other's chest or shoulder, and lean into each other, then stand up more and shake hands and begin the verbal greetings, "Ma-le me lim lim," (sweet greetings) "Ma-le me guire," (big greetings) "Ma-le me di," (nice greetings) "Ma-le me gua long" (good greetings) "Ma-le me gua long a long a long," (very very good greetings) Unchecked, this could continue all day, with frequent parting of the hands to again touch the chest or shoulder, then as a signal to get ready for some more good hand shaking, one person extends their hand back and aiming for the other person’s lazy hand hanging in the air, "slap" back into the handshaking and more greetings. Then, as that finishes up, there is a crowd of 20 others to greet in a similar way.

I keep remembering back to a little session I had on cross culture awareness, and how the speaker was talking at length about the value of a handshake. More importantly, he expressed the vital detail of not leaving anyone (of importance) out of a handshake. Once again, the difference between a good theory and a practical difficult situation is realised in the classroom, "Lankien."

As the cargo comes off the plane, I hand over the waybill to John with some instructions, then head off to the compound. It is 0900 by now, and the sun is starting its tricks again. Meetings are moved to under trees, and bags are left in the shade too. (I froze my water bottles the night before, but I doubt by the end of the day it will matter.)

The compound is in good order, cleared from the fire. The fence has been re-erected (we tore down large sections during the fire, to put fire-breaks in the fire's path), but all other construction has been left. With the recent insecurity, we are holding off all non-essential operations. It is kind of a game of poker, with high stakes, and little hope on our part. A pilot told me once he was talking with a commander about evacuating a team. The commander said, "you'll be back." The pilot replied, "not with this security situation, and lack of community help." "You'll be back. You Kawagas always come back. Me, I can sit under this tree and watch people die, you kawagas can't sit in Loki knowing people are dying here. You'll come back." Right now we are visiting, and holding off re-construction, but I think that commander’s words ring true to us too, we will come back, this isn't the first time the clinic burned and people looted it, and yes, we do have a hard time with the people dying too.

Soon we will be called on our bluff. The rains will be coming in a month or two, and we need to build before then. Maybe we have a couple more weeks that we can hold off, but then we need to commit to something and build a lot.

I finish greeting people, remembering as best I can everyone's name. Fortunately, most of the ladies are named Rebecca, Sarah, Mary, or Martha, and the men are mostly John, David, Moses or James.

I check out the new pharmacy and things look in order. Usually when we leave, we give the keys to James, but he has run away, so Samuel took over, for the first time. The math in the stock cards is completely off, but he is willing to see that he can learn from the mistakes and we agree on some homework for him to improve things a little.

One of our cats is under a shelf. I know that one, it is Liz's favourite cat, but it isn't moving. I hope it is still living. I call it, and it slowly moves it's head. Ah good, Liz would be mad if we let her favourite one die. It is very skinny though, I guess the rodents have gotten faster, and our supplement is appreciated. No time to deal with it, I'll mention it to someone else, and maybe we can get some food to it. (Tricky thing to leave food for the cats with the guards, when it is better food than they get. Today I found out one of the pilots has been taking food in for the cats.)

I arrange some meeting with John, and some other key people. We have 6 hours on the ground, and much to do.

1000, John and I discuss some work, and also discuss with him about not buying any more materials without me or Charlie approving it. He spends money quickly, and doesn't get the best price around town. This makes me quite frustrated, but he continues to do it. I think this time, I will wait on payments until we return. After we do some small talk, we discuss reasons to hold off construction, and when we are in a quiet corner of the compound, he tells me that he does not feel safe in Lankien, and would like to finish with MSF and move back to Pieri where he is from. My breath slows. On the one hand, that is the best reason for him to go, I wish him the absolute best, but on the other, he is a cornerstone to the logistic running of the clinic and it is a mess without him. We agree that he will wait till later, and plan to move when things are somewhat under control in Lankien. He isn't threatened, but rather he just doesn't like Lankien anymore.

I finish with John, then on to another staff member who also states that it is still not safe for some of the national staff in Lankien. These are the brothers and other relatives of the man who killed someone on the 2nd. In the Nuer culture, the security to you and your family, is to revenge any killing of your family. This revenge threat is not only to the killer, but to kill any member of the family, of a similar status. If the family does not agree with the actions of a family member that kills someone (or they do not want an overhanging threat in their lives), they can pay cows as compensation for the killing. 50 cows is the settlement for an average killing in a fight. If it is a respected person that was killed, it is worth two people (100 cows) and an assassination is also a raised amount (+50), further, the SPLA authority court collects 10 cows for administering the settlement. Right now 160 cows are owing for this killing. With that amount of cows coming from a clan, it will go quite hungry.

1100, start paying people. There is a new salary scale, so increased payment, but lots of questions and comments. Mostly smiles though, everyone like a pay raise. The trickiest part of the payment, is the signing the payroll sheet. I block off other lines with paper, I put the pen on the line, I push the pen to the right spot, I block other areas with my thumbs, but consistently people try to sign on other areas. I know this is the once in a month opportunity for half of them to hold a pen, and there is pressure to get it right, but it takes a long time for people to put their unique dot on the line.

I like the staff paying. It is a good chance to say hello to everyone (in case I didn't say "hello" enough in the morning) but also we depend on these people for the clinics, our compound and sometimes for our security. I cannot give them more than their salary, but I can give them 2 seconds to say hello (Ma-le) and how are you (gin-ni-sin?). I think they appreciate the small verbal appreciations, just as I do in my life. There are a few jokes and they laugh at hearing my impression of Nuer numbers (Jen-douk weda kel, rew, douk, wan, de-ich, 30, 31, 32, 33, 34, $35).

1400, finished most of the salaries. Others will have to wait till next time. Not a perfect way to do it, but we do what we can. Back in the pharmacy, getting an idea of what drugs to bring next time.

The plane lands again, (it left to pick up a lady in a place called Cue.) I ask about fuel, and send some labourers to roll some barrels to the plane for re-fueling.

The storekeeper brings his stockcheck of other stocks, patient foods, blankets, mosquito nets, etc. I file it in my pocket, it will be handy later.

1430, Evert comes by, "we leave at 1515." Good to know.

1500 a little more planning with John as I pack my books, remaining money and last litre of water (slightly cool still). Damn it is hot! The temperatures are now mid 40's. Sure it is a dry heat, so that should be better, but I can feel my body de-hydrate quickly. I drink about 4-5 litres of water a day, unless I'm active, then more. Standing in the sun is hard work. After the fire, many of our prized trees lost their leaves, so shade is harder to come by; this is a hard place. Today, we are lucky, we will go back to Loki and enjoy cold Gin and Tonics with ice.

1510, back at the plane. The patients we are taking with us are loaded back on the plane, one engine started as I finish the last handshake then board the plane. I slump into a seat and lean back. This visit was only 6 hours, I hope I am ready for coming back for good soon. I look back, the rest of the team are settled, and the patients briefed on the little plastic bags for when the plane bumps around. Why do we bother? I have seen many patients sick, but I have yet to see one use a bag. Optimism I guess.

I wave to the guys outside. They are smiling, but I know they are wondering if we will ever return. I wonder that too. I also secretly thank my maker that I have a return ticket. "Some days you are the fly, some days you are the windscreen." Well, some days you stand outside the plane, some days you sit inside.

We were bringing some patients from Lankien to Pieri who were finished their treatment, and also bringing one patient to Loki for some surgery. I don't know the medical terms for this case, but here goes. This lady tried to deliver her baby a few days before, but was obstructed and the baby died. She needed it to be taken out. There was much trauma in the last few days, and she would die soon if not helped. There is a network for getting patients like her to Loki where ICRC has a surgical hospital, but it isn't easy. This patient was suppose to go the last couple of days, but the flights didn't work out for one reason or another. Fortunately today she could come. In the back of the plane, without the sacks of maize, there is a wood and metal floor where you can lie down.

In Pieri where we were dropping off a team and some patients, we hung a drip for her, and Hannah did some magic medicines for her. This lady was getting some of the best treatment in the area. In a place where there are thousands of people per doctor, this lady had our Dr. Hannah's full attention. Wow, that is funny, "the best treatment" in practical terms means: with no clothing, wrapped in a urine soaked mosquito net, lying on the metal floor of a cargo plane, getting the full use of the medical kit we carry with us (in a small back pack, with just a handful of injectable meds and some emergency fluids and dressings.) From our own packs, we were able to find some space blankets to keep her warm, for when we were higher and colder in the air. One of the pilots was asking Hannah about this patient, and I think her answers put out his optimism a little. "What happened?" "Baby couldn't come out, and it died inside." "My God, how common is that?" "This is the second one I saw today, but usually not that common." "And the other mother?" "ICRC took her already but couldn't take this one. The other one will die probably." "Back home do mothers die like that." "It is very uncommon to have a baby die inside in the UK for this reason, and if it were to happen, the mothers would not be at muchrisk. We have a thing called surgery." "Will she live?" "Probably not,but we'll try all we can."

In Lankien, the other pilot, Shane, picked up a bird that was wounded. When we were flying, I saw this beautiful bright green bird spread its wings as it sat in the palm of Shane's hand. He put it down on his cooler, and the bird shifted to its side and lay down. He picked it up again, but it was dead. I looked back at the lady, on her side, and said one more prayer, "please don't die."

We arrived in Loki by 1800, and an ICRC ambulance (Landcruiser with a red light on top) was there to greet us. There was a miscommunication and they were ready for a sitting patient, and as such no stretcher. We all gathered and carried her roughly off the plane and into the cruiser. She woke with a pained expression, but in their culture, to show pain is not tolerated, so it was restrained. Also, there were no attendants, so Hannah and Sammy stayed in the ICRC cruiser and Evert and I went to the airport to clear customs. "Good luck" I whispered to her as she was taken away.

Name:
Passport number:
Date of Entry:
Reason of Entry:
etc etc,

Time to think about satisfying customs agents.

"Are these your bags?" he asked waving to Hannah's and Sammy's packs. "Jambo, (Swahili, "hello") Yes" "What is in this one?" "Clothes, books, you know, the usual," I said as it always is. As he opened it, and I noticed it was the medical runaway kit, "...and some meds." "Sawa sawa, goodbye." "Sawa sawa, asante sana, (Fine fine, thank you) see you next time, bye."

Our driver was there waiting for us, already loaded the bags, and off we went to pick up Hannah and Sammy.

Hannah stayed a while at the hospital, hoping to see the operation, and the rest of us went back to the compound.

That night, we went for those Gin and Tonics and Ice. Nice. Hannah stayed at the hospital to see the two operations. (The two mothers brought in that day.) One died, one was still alive afterwards, for now.

An early night and off to bed. I have been sleeping outside these days, since the rooms are too hot, and the evening air is much cooler. Armed with a mosquito net and mattress, I set up on a wooden platform that looks over the whole compound. It is a nice cool breezy place. I suppose if I can see the whole compound, the whole compound can see me, but I have long since exchanged my dignity for comfort.

So that is a day in South Sudan. Some days are better than others, this day was roughly in the middle.

For the next couple of days I will be in Loki doing more orders for burned/looted items, then I may go to Western Upper Nile on the 2nd for a 4 day trip, to see the hospital project there. On the 6th I'll be back out for a logistic meeting here till the 10th, then ??? who knows. We may be back by then, or we may be holding out for more. Just tonight we heard reports of military movements in other places. Some of these reports are starting to line up to patterns. It will be interesting over the next month or so if the peace talks continue. They have been delayed a little, and with the new movements there is a concern that it won't hold. Sammy, our Lab technician (and wise man) has a theory about fighting and this time of the year. They can only fight for another month or two, because after that, since all the young men are out at night, with the sandfly (transmitter of Kala Azar) soon they will be coming to our clinic for treatment, and not fighting. Apparently he has seen a trend over the years of young men coming in, in waves at the beginning of the Kala Azar season, and the fighting slowing down. We'll see what happens.

--------------------------

I guess there is some more to this story... Anyone still awake?

I have decided to extend my contract for another 3 months, so I will be finishing in September.

Of course there are many reasons for doing this, and many more for not, here are the big ones:

I am just starting to understand things here. It is much different from anything I have seen before, and I would like to continue learning and applying what I have learned. Expats are often criticized for coming in, messing up stuff and then leaving. I have seen this, and do not believe that I’m above that. I would like to be on the more beneficial side of the spectrum though.

I have believed that I want to do this, (partially), for the good of others, and I guess that means doing it too, and not just talking about it. So that means doing it for a long time too. There is a balance though, between benefit of others, and problems for myself. This is a stressful job, and I would like to ensure I don't take too much on too quickly. So, for now I'll take on another 3 months and stop it there. Sudan will always be there, so I can get back in later if I choose to.

Also, I am learning very much about myself and my life here. I love it, and I hate it. Those are both emotions I want to explore more, and this is a very good classroom.

It is also good for the project, of course.

I'm also getting into more coordination of the project, as Evert has been away at significant times over the last month. I would like to continue this direction too.

I do often complain about non-community involvement, but I'm starting to think about what I'm doing about it. When was the last time I got involved in the community, outside MSF? That is another reason, (challenge) to stay, I would like to try to get involved a little more. I identified Isaac, our counterpart, as a tutor in Nuer culture and traditions. I bought him a map of South Sudan and a dictionary. I would like to try to free more time for that too.

---------------------

So that is about it. I have passed 6 months here, so I think that means I'm doing all right. I miss home and everyone there, but I am with you in spirit. This has been a hard time, but a good time. There still is energy at the end of most days to smile, and there are good people here to smile with. As for doing meaningful work... I am more confused now than ever about what that... means. But I am enjoying this work, so that is enough to keep me doing it.

Take care, lots of love,

Steve

P.S. Joe: The package you sent me, I still have.
Mom and Dad: The soup mixes were looted, but other books and photos saved.
Bread recipes saved, but any material that would have been an oven, have been looted.
Kevin: Still have the book and package you sent.
Christina: The hat is gone. I'm most certain it went in the fire.
To everyone else: Maybe it best not to send anything of value, except for letters and emails. It would be good to hear how you are.

South Sudan Journal, Parts 24 & 25 (of 29)

stevedennis@egate.net (Steve Dennis) — Thu, 17 Nov 2005 02:49:00 +0000

Message #24 April 21, 2004

Hello Mom and Dad.

Well it is early in the morning. The sun is just thinking of rising, and I am up to start the day. It is a wonderful temperature right now, after a full night of cooling off. Unfortunately, I don't think it will stay this cool.

We have been back in Lankien for almost one week now. It seems that this place is very dynamic, and only those with open minds and flexible will survive. "Where is so-and-so?" "They ran away to Malakal, because of security." "Well who can do his job?" "This person, but their English isn't that good." "Malesh, we'll take him anyway." (Malesh: Arabic for "Sorry," because of a situation just is. "Your compound just burned down, Malesh" or "we just don't have any more food for you, Malesh.")

Our office is now in a large (trigano) tent, since it was lost in the fire. Further, all our stores are now kept in the one remaining storeroom structure. All other expat stores are spread around into the remaining expat tukels, and we are mostly sleeping outside these days. (Fortunately the rains and mosquitoes haven't come yet.)

In the first few days here, there was a busy time getting the compound up and running, transforming a pile of bags, into a livable compound. Fortunately for me, all my begging for more logistical assistance has yielded Charlie T, and Omari (two Kenyan men with many years experience in this project and country). They are great to have around, working with the staff and repairing/building most things.

The antenna mast was raised, solar panels laid out and wired up, latrines opened and loaded with paper, mattresses pulled out for sleeping, and water filters brought into service. There was a lot of washing to do by the cleaning ladies we have here too. All in all, slowly slowly, things came together.

----

Wow, the first raindrops are falling on the tent. It hasn't rained here in 6 months, but there has been a lot of talk of the coming rains, and here they are... We have two planes coming today, trying to load ourselves up with food before the proper rainy season; I hope the rain holds off. Apparently, with a 5-minute good rain, the airstrip is unlandable for days.

Due to the recent insecurity between the clans, WFP has stayed away, and not delivered our patient food. We have been struggling to provide enough to our patients, but with the numbers we have now, we are having a hard time. With 170 TB patients and 80 Kala Azar patients, we use about 3 tons of food per week. The plane we use gives us 2.5 tons a flight, but that is usually shared with logistic items and expats too. We had a large buffer, for such an event, but with the looting during the fire, and the fire itself, we lost a lot of that. Now, we occasionally cut rations on different items, as we run low or out of them. Right now we have 12 bags of maize left. We use 35 in one week, this plane is important to us. The clouds are staying dark, as the sun rises off the horizon in the east. Like everything else here, we'll see what happens.

-----------------

April 20, 2004, 2335.

Got caught in a conversation with Evert, regarding the weather. "Should we call the plane off?" "I'd rather not, the patients can really use the food." I replied. "Do we 'need' the food?" "What do you mean by need? Part of the ration is cut already, and we give bugger all to begin with, I'd say they 'need' the food more than I've ever needed anything in my life, but that goes the same for a good day too."

It is a tricky thing, this calculation one does as the storm clouds are coming, and so is the plane. This plane costs $1,100 USD per hour, taking two hours to get here, and two hours back. By bringing the plane, then having it not land, is a pricey thing. By calling it off and waiting for sunny weather, has its personal drawbacks, mostly some hungry looks from the patients. It is a difficult situation to remain unbiased in. To add to it, a lot of our fences are now much more transparent after the fire and quick reconstruction; and thus our luxury tinned meals can be viewed by many. We try to eat inside as much as possible, but with the heat it is hard all the time.

"Should we call it off?" "No, I think it is going slightly off to the west, let's wait and see."

And we sat, and we saw the clouds drop a little rain, but mostly move on to the west. The plane came, and the next one too. The next day I walked the airstrip with Evert, to get another lesson in airstrip maintenance before he left, end of mission. In the dried dirt were the tire marks of the plane taking off, from the day before; frozen as a reminder of the coming rains and mud. Everyone is talking of the rains, "do this before the rains come," "that's nothing, wait till the rains come," "rain, you don't know rain Kawaja!" I may be a Kawaja, (stupid white guy) but I get the sense that these rains are impressive.

So as I mentioned, I haven't seen rain here for 6 months. There was a sprinkle once when we were out in March, but besides that, nothing. The whole place is dried up. There are some trees with leaves, but few and far between. There is no grass, so the wind kicks up a lot of dust. In fact, I remember areas in the compound where little stubs of wood were just flush with the ground, and now they are 2-3 inches above the ground level. The soil is blowing away. Things are dry, dry, dry and hot! We all have covered our water bottles with cloth to wet, then as the water evapourates, the bottle gets cooler, but it takes less than 20 minutes for a bottle to dry up completely, then they get hot again. Also, in two gulps the 1.5 litre bottle is empty, and you have to start cooling again. Sometimes this is too much.

I don't know how hot it is, (our thermometers were lost in the fire, but we are getting more up on Saturday, I'll tell you later.), but by 1200 the sun is cooking, and by 1400, even lying in the shade in a breeze it is too much. Work usually goes from 0800 to 1200, then 1600 till night. 1200 to 1600 is just not a good time to be caught in the sun, let alone be caught doing anything active like lying down breathing.

The flies somehow are not influenced by the heat, and they have a fun time flying around everything, and everyone.

Fortunately the mosquitoes are not active yet. We are all sleeping outside and under the stars these days. It is just too hot in the tukels.

-----

I wanted to comment on a couple news events you raised. I hear Sri Lanka has slipped back to war. I haven't heard much about this, but have been listening to the BBC most nights, without any news on it. I guess with the Middle East, Iraq, the European Constitution, US elections and the court case of Michael Jackson, a little Island civil war can go unmentioned. I can believe it though, there is much reconciliation to be had, and people's patience can only go so far. I would not give up on it yet, this may be a little burst of frustration at the delayed peace agreement, and cooler heads may still prevail.

Then there is Sudan in the news too. Of the many many issues in Sudan, two are in the news. Darfur, the Western portion of Sudan, is considered the worst humanitarian crisis of the world right now. Haven't heard yet? Well there aren't too many westerners living there, and we don't get our oil from there yet, so it usually takes the back pages. Reports that we are getting are pretty grim. "1 Million people displaced by the fighting," "...Around 10,000 people are also believed to have died in more than a year of fighting, which started with a rebel revolt against the government amid allegations it had backed the militias and was neglecting the Darfur region."

This is an interesting situation. On the 10-year anniversary of the Rawandan genocide, the international community after saying "never again" is faced with a similar situation, and now is pressed to put actions to words. They have been refused access into the area, and are now waiting. These next weeks will be good to watch, and see what happens, this could be another Rawanda.

That conflict is between the government, government backed militias and local rebel forces in the west of Sudan. This is not related to the cease-fire between the SPLA and the Government. A little geography lesson... Sudan is a very large country, the size of continental Europe. A conflict in the west does not influence the conflict in the South, where I work. (Though it has similar aspects.) South Sudan (represented by the Sudanese People's Liberation Army, SPLA,) is currently in peace negotiations with the Sudan Government, regarding power sharing of the land in the South. And this is the second news issue I heard on the BBC.

Last night, we heard a UN security person discussing a humanitarian crisis in the Upper Nile Region of Sudan that is where I work. (Well, it is also a large area, and I am removed from this issue, but maybe I should explain.)

The Government uses militias for some of its fighting. During this cease-fire, small operations were carried out by militias against the SPLA. It is a useful tool, if you want to ensure your forces do not violate the cease-fire. Also, sometimes these militias are independent from the government, and claim land for themselves.

North of Malakal, a militia commander defected to the SPLA, and some other militia commanders did not like the switch, and fighting broke out. This fighting had led to people fleeing the area. This fighting has been reported to spread around Malakal, and cause up to 50,000 people to flee. Talking to a pilot in Loki who flies up there with a monitoring team (monitoring the cease-fire) he reported seeing much of what was reported on the BBC, but he told me about it two weeks ago.

The militias are more active in the South these days too. There is a rise in tensions with the delay in the signing of the peace agreement. The agreement was suppose to be signed in December, January, and now April 21st is the new deadline. The US has been pushing hard for the signing, and now has said sanctions will be imposed if they miss the 21st of April deadline. It is the 20th and we just heard the negotiator for the Government went back to Khartoum. I think the US will start the sanctions.

How this affects us here in Lankien, not really. Darfur is a many hundreds of miles away, and with different people fighting a different war. The militia movements and holding off on the peace agreement is a little more related to us. However, MSF has been here in Lankien since 1996, when the war was going strong. It hasn't come to that yet, but there is just a lot of talk of the peace agreement not being signed.

But, when I look around, and listen to the news, I feel more secure here. Madrid bombing, terrorist plots found in the UK, SARS, etc etc, there is more apparent risk here, but nothing too complicated or impersonal. In the clan insecurity lately, one person was killed, then all the (male) family of the killer fled. Everyone else stayed, almost fearless. We left too, but people almost laughed at us, "it is safe for you, this is not your problem." I actually believe them.

Well, it is late, and much to do tomorrow. Things are well here, and slowly, ever so slowly coming together again.

Good to be here, though this is the hardest thing I have done in a long time.

Lots of love,

Steve
P.S. I'm thinking of taking my next vacation in Sunny Toronto for 2.5 weeks in June/July. Does anyone know of a good travel agent, or flight deal?
Message #25 May 15, 2004

Hello Mom and Dad
Well, it is May, already. Back home, there must be warm days to fully bring everyone out of winter, and rain showers to grow summer plants everywhere. The same here. Winter wasn't cold at all, but the sun shines here and brings us out of any cold we thought we had, and the rains are starting.
I think it was around the 20th of April I last reported back on things here. Things are generally well, where reviewed... There have been some minor issues and some health problems I've had, but all in all , things are fine. First, the project. Kala Azar numbers are down to 50 patients! This is good stuff, but it is only following trends over the last few years. KA dips down May, June and July, then starts a steep climb in August and September, back up to the large numbers like the 250 I experienced when I first got here. The fewer numbers means less staff, and less work, in the KA clinic. However, TB numbers have steadily climbed and are not following any annual trend, as it is a different type of disease. With the numbers as they are, we still have large demands on our food supplies, and the coming heavy rains are telling us it is important to stock up, as best we can.The reconstruction of the compound is going slowly. We are currently on a "holding" operation, where we are not to build anything other than essential things, e.g. lab, office, latrines, morgue, fence, nothing else. This is because we still have some grievences with the community, even though they don't see anything wrong with the situation. That situation being... during the fire we were heavily looted, we cannot lay off staff that have run away and therefore not working with us, we are constantly finding people stealing things, and the local authorities reply to all these things as, "Well pay these people that have left. Their families are still suffering. Just get another plane and bring more things."
The latest bout of this sort of thing happened, just as Evert, our PC, left for some vacation and I was team leader again. Lindsay, (a nurse here) found some food and cooking oil, tucked away in a trunk. We found out who separated that food from the patient food supply, and this person even said she hid it, but for security reasons. We hardly ever catch someone stealing something, though many things get taken, so this was a golden opportunity to try to stop things. Unfortunately, after hours of talking with the staff, and the local authorities (who are involved with all staff issues), we gained no ground. "This lady was only separating the food and hiding it, for security, she was not stealing it." "But why was the 200 kgs of food just next to it safe, and not that 5kgs?" "You are not from here, you cannot understand how some things are secure and other things not secure. Have you ever tried guarding cows or goats?" "Err, ahh, no." "Then you cannot understand how she was securing this food from stealing." That is right, I don't understand.
The next day, I went to the airstrip to greet a plane, and I found jerrycans for water, clearly writen "MSF" walking away from the compound. Quickly I found someone to translate. "You cannot take those!" "I'm just using them." "I know you are using them, they are not for your use. How did you get them out of the compound?" "Issac gave them to me." "They are not Issac's, he cannot give away MSF property." "You can buy them back if you want them so badly." "If you bring them back, that will help me not fire Issac. I'm leaving now." "If you fire Issac, can I keep this jerrycan?"...
I wanted to see how MSF property could leave the compound, so I returned to the clinic. "Where's the guard?" "He went away." "But he is the guard, he cannot just leave." "But he had to eat, you cannot live without eating." "True, thank you, I forgot about that one. But wait, that is why we have TWO guards, so one can eat, and the other will guard." "They do that, but then the other guard got hungry too." "The first one should come back to replace the other one." "But he didn't feel it was important to just sit here and do nothing." "Get the guard please." "Do you want them to not eat? You cannot live without eating..."
The next day, we uncovered a large, somewhat organized drug theft that had been happening while we were away, and continued now even after our return. Unfortunately, much bigger than a jerrycan, and as such, much more talking in circles for hours. "I didn't take any. I have to tell the truth, since you are asking me, but if people do not believe me, I will slaughter a goat in front of everyone to show my innocence." "I'll have to try that one back home." (I thought)...
I extended my contract, to understand more about this place, the culture, and the games that are played. Right now, I am understanding it more and more. I understand that this is a game that has been played for decades, since the first Kawaga (white folk) came here and lost the first round; I'm just one in a long line of Kawagas that have come, full of energy to play the game, and like the others I have given my all, and I have started losing, until I hand over the game to someone else and return home for a rest.

I like the stories of sailors returning to their home port, battered by the latest storm, the storm of the decade. They claim victory in a chant, "We fought the sea and look, we are here, we are alive, we won!" But they forgot something, they limped home under the power of their remaining piece of canvas, pumping the bilge through the night and hungry, longing for cooked meals. The sea is unchanged though. Maybe in a calm, it is licking its wounds, but the next low pressure cell to pass its tempest calm will stir it to full fury, an energy the victorious sailors could not muster in the least. Victory is something for the ones that stay behind to play the game again.
Lankien, and maybe Sudan in general, is the sea; a harsh environment, calm in parts, but can be thrown into a fury to burn out Kawajas quickly, or maybe just the regular waves can wear them over time. Sudan will remain here long after I and many other Kawajas leave.
During the discoveries of the thefts, my health started coming down a notch. I agree that illness, or disease, is a "not at ease, or dis-ease" state of the whole person. I was not at ease at the time, and it was well reflected by my symptoms. I started getting some sort of multiple bites at night by odd bugs, my movements assumed all sorts of irregularities, I developed a slight fever, headaches, and nausia, and one night as I pulled my bed outside to cool off the fever, a scorpion stung me on the finger. I was sleeping at night (except for the scorpion night) and mostly through the afternoons, but no improvements. I was at an all time health low. (Note: If you want to get rid of a headache, find a scorpion and get stung. There is a renewed health presence and clarity of mind brought on, along with some pain. Overall it is not recommended, but it's a good humbling experience.)
The plane we usually use just hit a bird in Western Upper Nile, and was going to be out for a couple weeks for repairs, however, it could drop by Lankien one last time, to medevac Lindsay (she had even worse headaches and fevers) and myself, and so it did. We headed to Nairobi and to a hospital for some tests and R&R/sick leave.
Just being in Nairobi for a week, eating good food and resting oh so much, in a cool atmosphere was just what was needed. I got some work done on some orders for more rebuilding and restocking, and besides that, just rested.
A week later, by the 9th of May, I was in great shape and was to fly back to Lankien. This time the plane (a different one) had to do a round trip, to all the project sites before Lankien. This was an exciting trip, as with the last 15-20 odd trips I have done to, from and around Lankien, I have only seen Lankien, and some space in between.
Starting out by 0800, we left Loki for Kerker, in the Nuba mountains. We climbed through rain clouds then above to clear skies. We were in a Aero Commander, a little 1100kg carrying capacity plane that beats our usual Casa on speed, comfort and visibility (it has windows all around, plus I was sitting in the other front seat.) An hour and a half after taking off, we passed over Lankien (24,000 feet), straight on the route to the Nuba Mountains where we could identify it by the plane permanently "parked" at the end of the airstrip (and the GPS told us it was Lankien too.) A little while later, after dodging building storm clouds, we were passing the Nile River. Wow, I hadn't passed the Nile, close enough to see it before.
The Nile, what a mystery, what a wonder, what a source of so many stories and adventures. "Nelson's battle at the Nile." "Egyptian legends, on the Nile." "SPLA fighting over the Upper Nile regions" etc., etc. There it was, still with water in it, for a mighty river like The Nile, cannot be seasonal, of course there was water! I stayed staring at it for the 30 minutes as we passed it, noting its different fingers and meanders. Is it the, "Graceful Nile," the "Abundant Nile," or is there a "Tempest Nile," down there too.
As we flew further north, hills started to appear. WHAT? Sudan has hills. We must be in Egypt. No, it is the Nuba Mountains. I bet if you spend your life walking on the flat plains of the south, these are Mountains. We lowered down and made our approach to, "Hey Paul, where are we landing, I don't see an airstrip?" "It's right there, just around the corner." And sure enough, we cruised alongside this hill for a bit, bumping along the turbulance, and an airstrip appeared. A few seconds later, we graced over the strip to inspect it and clear off the goats. We touched down, off loaded cargo, met other MSF team members, loaded gear and were off again, for it would be a long day, and no time to spare. We took off, uphill, and even climbed over this hill, just like the movies. "Don't you think we are a little low, Paul?" I questioned, as we were climbing over the hill, but really just maintaining our 20-30 feet of height. "I should hope not." Well, he probably notices too. Maybe I'll leave the flying to him, I resolved.
WE MADE IT! After I said my comment, I noticed that things were alright, and by sitting still, this problem (as with other problems) just went away, and I continued to have a great ride.
We headed south again, but a little more to the west, heading to Western Upper Nile. There was the Nile again, magestic in the mid-day sun. To the north of it, there was a weird grid pattern, stretching over many square kilometers and another one to the south. This is either a sign from Aliens (one Mother of all crop circles, but square), or ??? "Hey Paul, what is that?" "That is an oil field." Or I guess it could be that too, an Alien crop, a square grid in the sand, disguised as an oil field.
There is lots of oil in South Sudan, in fact that is one of the driving forces behind the war. (No they weren't all fighting over their rights to dust and other nothings.) This oil field was a large expanse of order, in an otherwise widespread area of nothing. There were roads that stretched forever (apparently these are year round roads, a technology that hasn't even hit parts of Kenya). Also, there was an airstrip, comparable to the one in Loki. I had heard of many "defensive" aircraft in these oil fields, used to "clear" the lands around the field of any enemies. I have heard stories from some of our staff of attacks on nearby villages, where there were no soldiers, just people living. Their only fault being that they lived on the land that the Northerns (and western oil companies) wanted to extract oil from. As I saw that airstrip, I didn't like it. This technologically advanced money making field was only an hour flight from Lankien, where people are dying of the simplest of illnesses, and cannot supply enough water or food to live the most basic existence. I hated that place, though the engineer in me was admiring its construction. That is a good way to extract oil from a field. I just don't agree with what it is, and what it takes away from the people.
We continued south west, into Western Upper Nile. Wow, palm trees and rivers. I like palm trees and rivers. Why don't we get some palm trees and rivers in Lankien? ("Change what you can, leave what you can't and know the difference." Steve, stay focused, leave the palm trees...) And so we guided into Kuoch, Leer, Mapel, Thanyang, and finally Lankien. Maybe my biased eyes saw Lankien as the emptiest place, void of trees, rivers, cars, tin roofs, helpful communities, etc, I hoped it was just a bias. I emptied myself out of the plane one final time (this travel, even with the excitment of it, is tiring), and greeted the team. It is nice to come home, even though there is a heat and dust that overcomes you as you walk the path back to the compound.
There are people that greet me, "Ah Steve, you come back." "Yes, I come back." "Thank you for your coming. God has blessed us by your pressence." "Your welcome. That's very nice to hear. Thank you." "Now you give me apen?" "Welcome me home, Steve." Indeed. Good to see things haven't changed.
There are always some children to hold your hand as you walk to the compound. That's nice, just remember to wash your hands. Good golly that kid is dirty!
Back in the compound, it was Sunday. People were resting, reading, doing small reports, and generally taking it slow. Jan, our new PC was there. I worked with Jan in Sri Lanka, and it was great to have him here, he is very good. The drug stealing thing had increased. A staff member ran away as this investigation started, and the numbers of stolen items increased incredibly. We still cannot lay off someone who has been absent for a month and a half, since "you can't lay someone off if they are not there." "But that is it, she didn't ask for leave, and now she isn't returning." I'm sure the counterpart was thinking, 'do you want to sit for 5 hours and end up paying her out of frustration, or why don't you just pay her family now? I have nothing to do all day, look at me, I sit here all day. I actually look forward to our talks, I like winning. I throw a bunch of ambiguous sidetracks in the conversation ('have you ever herded cows or goats, HA, I really love that one!') and after 1-2 hours usually I get my way. Would you like to play a round today, you look busy though?') Anyway, the place didn't change when I was out.
The other frustration, is the weather. It is starting to rain now, and flights are changing and shifting around to coordinate with Mother Nature's will. We need the rain to replenish the water supply, but we need dry weather to land more food. Tomorrow we hope to get some planes in, with some more construction material and food, 3500kgs in total. That will be nice, but still that does not bring us close to the stock we want before the rains come, but slowly, slowly.
Around the compound, people are living where they can. Of our expat tukels, most of them double as a store rooms too. I have a bed that I can pull out for hot nights, but for nights that it may rain, I keep it in the office tent (trigano) along with Jan's bed. I have long since given up my modesty when waking up, as the cleaners and labourers start work around me. Some of our fencing is still not there, so there is a clear line of sight from the clinic, and 50 patients, to our compound. Fortunately, no one there cares much about a half dressed Kawaga -- looks pretty much like all the half dressed Sudanese, but white.
The nights now have some biting insects, but very few still. At one point we could sleep without nets, but not now.
The food is still the same, not too interesting. Many days I have entered the canned food store, and resolved that I really wasn't hungry after all. We have a 10 day cycle of the planes, and that helps us with the food. The first day, we get some fresh goat and sukuma wiki (Kenyan type of Spinach), the Kenyans on the team do a nice stewed goat, so that is their turn to cook. The next few nights, we cook pastas with fresh tomatoes and onions, we make avacado dishes and dips, and cabbage meals here and there. By day 5 or so, most o the fresh things are out, either eaten, or turned to wrinkled pieces with little to offer us, so we move on to potatoes, sweet and Irish. After that, the later days of the rotation are the hardest to cook for. We get some chickens quite often, but there are only so many chicken dishes one can make with these little guys. They are mostly bone, with tough "running for their lives to get away from the cats" muscles. Hopefully, we still have eggs, but if not, more pasta and tinned surprises. Soon though, things may change a little.With people returning for planting, there will be some cow beef on the market. Plus, with the rains, we have started to plant some things around the compound. Some eggplant, tomatoes, and I think soon I will plant some papaya trees. Maybe I'll get a palm tree for near the shower, where there is water year round.
I often think that I could quite easily live on a desert island, where I had to provide everything for myself, planning annual crops and livestock etc etc... as long as there was a plane every 10 days to help me with the harder times.
Well, until the day that I am enjoying the sunset on an Island Paradise, I'll enjoy this one. The sun, the sand, the absolutely unique, simple and wonderful people here, the work that, at the end of the day, still means something. It is still a priviledge working with these great people, both International and National, though that may not be reflected by parts of this email. I do feel that I would not want to live here, but it is truly an honor to be here for this time. I also notice I am getting more tired, as I see the fresh and full of energy people come off the plane from time to time, and I reflect how I once looked like that, but I also know I will miss this when I go.
As for plans to come home for a vacation, I'm having a hard time getting a flight for the end of May, so I will continue to look for early June, or maybe have to postpone the visit, until I can visit and stay in September at the end of my time here. We'll see. It is good to hear that things are well in Toronto. I'm sorry to hear the
Leafs didn't continue in the play-offs. I'll finish here, goodnight.
Lots of Love,
Steve

South Sudan Journal, Parts 21 & 22 (of 29)

stevedennis@egate.net (Steve Dennis) — Thu, 17 Nov 2005 02:48:00 +0000

Message #21 February 28, 2004

Hello Mom and Dad, and everyone else.

It has been a while, but the night is cleared of people, I think I can write a while.

Many people have asked if things are going all right, I think I should answer that.

Well, where to begin? I think it has been a month or so since I last wrote.

In January, we arrived back from the evacuation, and things were busy setting up again, and re-evaluating efforts we were putting into staff training. Much effort was put into training, but then we left for three weeks, and we observed things back to how they were, (staff coming in late, working little and leaving early.) It was apparent that we were not working in the most ideal environment, with the most ideal staff. However, I guess that is why we are here, if it were paradise, we would have to fight the other NGOs to get some patients.

By the end of the month, Evert (our Project Coordinator) and some other staff were out, leaving me as team leader, and +/- 5 others to run things. That was a nice time, but damn busy. Already Charlie, (the second Log here) has been out for months and his work put on me, and then with Evert out, things were just really busy, and quite messy.

Funny side story: Things were so busy, with so many interuptions, that one day in a desperate attempt to get some work done without distractions, I closed the office. Hey, why not? When we evacuate, they find answers without us, why not then. So, I put a sign over the entrance to the compound reading, "Logistic office closed today. Only come in with urgent questions that cannot wait till tomorrow."

The first part of the morning went well. I like that feeling of successful problem solving. Not many interuptions. Then I thought with all the work I was getting through, I could take a break and look at what the log staff was doing. So, I walked out and around and couldn't find anyone on the logistic labour staff. I sent a guard to FIND the supervisor and BRING him to me. A little while later, a confused John came to see me. "Yes?" "Where is the staff?" "Some are at home, some in the market, I was in Church." "Why aren't you working?" "The office is closed today." (Damn. I've been beaten again!) "I think we should close the office more often." (Beaten by a child!)

There were other times of defeat. That really is the feeling I was having, defeat. There is one quote that summed my feelings up, "don't argue with fools. They will bring you down to their level, and beat you by experience."

The labour staff was working on the fence, where there is some wire. They needed some wire cutters, but with all the "missing" tools, I only had one pair of wire cutters left. "No, you cannot have them, chew the wire, I don't care how you cut it, you are not getting my last pair!" (I said it a little nicer than that, but those were my deepest feelings. Remember, I was defeated at the time.) After some time, and much persistance from the staff, and many many agreements that I would get them back, I handed over MY LAST PAIR OF WIRE CUTTERS. As they walked away, I had a sinking feeling, like I would never see them again.

8 hours later, all the log staff, a translator and I sat in silence in a circle. In defeat, I waited and waited. In fear, they waited and waited. The wind whistled, the dust blew, and nothing was said at all. Finally, I broke the silence. "So... Can anyone explain to me how the wire cutters went missing?" We sat in silence again for some minutes, until Big Isaac spoke, almost in tears. (Big Issac is called Big Issac, because he is big. He is bigger than Big Joe back home. He is my height, but really big. It is hard seeing a big man like that almost in tears). He said, "I put them down, and when I came back, they were gone. You told us not to lose them, you told us they were the last pair, I didn't want to lose them... I lost them." Then in big wet eyes he looked at me and in his rough english said, "I'm sorry tall man."

There is the highest comfort in company, while being defeated. I remember cheering up, while sea-sick, if there were others. Now, Big Issac's defeat consoled me that I was not alone. I know no one wanted to defeat me; I get the feeling I am liked by the staff, but it is more the environment, and the hungry people here that are defeating me.

I should say though that there are victories too, many of them.

The math classes have been one of the biggest victories! After the evacuation, I asked the labour staff what days we should have lessons. They talked at length and replied, "Monday to Saturday." "Oh, only, eh? And how long, each lesson?" There was more talk then, "From 1300 to 1600." "How about two days, two hours?" "Yes, that is good too." And so it was. The evacuation and other interuptions have made continuity difficult, and knowledge does drop after each break, but there is headway, EVER-SO-SLOWLY.

My last lessons were on grouping objects in piles (stacks) so we could count them easier. THIS IS NOT AS EASY AS IT SEEMS! "There are only four in this pile, and five in that pile. See how this one is higher than that one?... No, you can't just turn the box on it's side to make the pile higher, add one more to make the piles EQUAL..." The long and short of it was, on the plane to take me out on my vacation, I arranged the cargo to be
a simple one, with lots of similarly sized boxes, (10 boxes of soap, 20 of milk, etc etc.) and with tears of joy I stepped back and saw the staff pile them up then report to me. "Here: 3 piles of 5 boxes." "Very good! (VICTORY!) So how many boxes are there?" "20!" "Nice piles! We'll work on the numbers when I get back."

The week before I left was busy with 3 monthly medical orders, orders to get more stuff to replace things looted in Pultruk, orders to replace things taken to the Kala Azar project, I was doing Everts flight planning and there was all the end of month bookkeeping and WFP reporting too. Further, I wanted to get things ready for Daniel (who was coming from the Nuba project to replace the Logistician me) and Charlie (who was coming from Loki to replace the Team Leader me). It was busy.

Daniel arrived the day before I left. That was great. Once he arrived, a weight was off my shoulders. I met Daniel in Holland two years ago, and roomed with him for a course of two weeks. On parting, we each expressed a wish that we would work together in the future, and here it was. (That one evening, and next morning.) But I think once he gets back from his vacation, he will be more of this project, at least from an advising role, since he has lived it for three weeks and has some insights of how to calm the circus and keep the tools.

Often when someone would come up to me and ask for something, Daniel would just say hello, extend a hand, and gracefully pull them away as they chat, so I could finish something peacefully.

So, that plane came, the stacking happened, and off I went, to head to Loki, then Nairobi and then to meet with Christina for a wonderful vacation and a good sleep.

On the plane, there was a vaccine coolbox labeled, "Steve's personal vaccine." I lifted it out from under a seat and heard a clink. Smiles all around! The boys in Loki packed some cold beers for me and the others for our flight out. ITS THE LITTLE THINGS THAT MAKE LIFE GREAT!!!

A flight to Loki went well, a night in Loki, then the next day to Nairobi. This was quick. A briefing with our head of mission on some issues, (while he had a phone call I went to the office washroom for the beginings of a long needed shave) then to the house to drop bags, shop for flowers, and off to the airport all in a hurry. Christina was there, as planned, back to the house for some dinner, and not too long after that sleep came over me.

We stayed in Nairobi for some time, catching up on sleep and on each other's lives. She just finished a major exam, and was equally tired, so that slower schedule worked very well. We did a safari to the Maasai Mara park where we saw lions, giraffs, hundreds of zebras, gazelles, etc etc. It was very nice, and I recommend it to everyone. From there, we went to Zanzibar for 8 days. That was the best part I think. Zanzibar Island is off the coast of Tanzinia. It has an Arabic background atmosphere, mixed with a laid back Africa feeling.

A highlight was the Stonetown night market. In this market dozens of venders have arrays of seafoods and other delights spread across a table, with grill to heat them, all for small dollars. We ate, and ate some more; it was very good. Also, I did some shopping around for things to send home, as I still am trying to figure out how importing businesses work, and the art there was very good.

After Stonetown, we went up to Nungwi beach, home of more great seafood, a great beach and some nice bars and restaurants on the beach. There was one, "Cholo's" on the beach where you can sip your beer, go for a swim, then go back to your beer, sit in a hammock, etc, etc. I slept a lot, and did nothing all day. GREAT STUFF!

3 weeks of that, then back to Nairobi, and back to Loki, then Lankien.

On the way into the project, there is a lot of anticipation. When I first went here, I had inexperience calming me down. Now I knew what I was getting into. When I arrived, Daniel gave me a big welcome, and a knowing look. He said, "you must be a very patient person." And stories came forth supporting why he thought that. The staff had given him a hard time, not by doing anything different than what they do, but by being different than his staff. Nuba is in a different area, with different education, different climate, different market, etc etc. I think the realities in Lankien hit Daniel, and he left before he could see the victories that can come from here. But also, I took in some of his reports, a little too hard.

The situation here is getting more complicated. The TB patient numbers are still going up. We have 168 TB patients now, and there is just no more room for them. We brough in two large tents, and Daniel started construction on another large tukel to house them, but we figure the numbers will climb over the next month to 200, and we need three additional tukels, more latrines, more cooking areas, more milk distribution areas, more this and that. Try building that when the staff can't even keep a pair of wire cutters; I thought as I pondered our situation.

Plus, we haven't started a feeding program yet, but that will come soon enough. Plus, Kala Azar numbers are not going down fast enough for my projections of patient food to last. (We already ran out of some of the distributed food items three weeks ago, and this week we will run out of more if WFP doesn't come.) Plus, Charlie (the other Log) is still in the Kala Azar project, and there is only talk that he will return soon; talk, but no Charlie.

Plus, it is now hot here. I don't know the temperature, but I don't quite care that much. I shower at night, because the water is cooler then, but still it is almost too hot to stand under. I know it will get hotter, but from cool Nairobi, this was a thump in the face and load on the lungs.

Before I left, I gave two instructions for my new tukel. Don't line the ceiling with plastic, use the cotton sheeting. It allows a little more hot air out at night. And two, make my bed longer and wider. I got into my new tukel, and the staff was happy to show me my plastic ceiling and my bed, specially made for me, tall and skinny (the bed was long, but skinny, "just like Tall Man, not like Big Issac.") Could I really win this game?

While staring at the half finished TB tukel Daniel started the day after I left, determined to finish it before I returned, but almost abandoned by his frustration of the labour staff's laziness, I was overcome by the feeling of upcoming defeat. These things built up to making me a little overwhelmed at being back, and of not knowing how I was going to get through these next two months. Time slowed down, I focused on the esentials, drink water and keep breathing. Good, now lie down and don't forget the breathing part. Good, now take on a very small thing, and complete that task perfectly, that will build your confidence to help you succeed with all the rest. For my first task, I will try sitting up. SUCCESS!!! The rest of it cannot be that hard now, look at how well I sat up!

Before I left, I asked Daniel to make some observations and recommendations to me about how things run, and how to make them run smoother. He had some good ideas and one really strong one. He told me, "of the 9 labourers, keep Isiah, and replace the rest!" It hit me a little hard to read that. Am I getting too attached to my team to view them objectively? Am I allowing my affection for these guys to come in the way of noticing problems they cause? Is there no hope for them? I regressed back to the debate, "are we only saving lives here, to die another day?" or "Is there something else I am doing here?" On a memorial at U of T, there is a part of a phrase that reads something like, "though their bodies lie at rest, they live on in the hearts and minds of those they touched." And therein lay my answer.

Day two: I woke up and decided my previous day's tireness and overwhelming feeling wasn't helping the situation, and so, "callas" (finished) with that; today was going to be the turning point. And it was. Little by little successes grew from getting the staff going on that tukel, to straightening out orders, to other things, slowly slowly.

Slowly slowly. What great words! In Guatemala: poco a poco, (little by little). In Kenya: Poli poli, (small, small). In Nuer: Matr matr (slow slow). That's it, around the world, people are climbing Mountains one step at a time, why not here? Okay, the wire cutters weren't that important, what other reason is out there, why I cannot climb the mountain in front of me now?

Also, I held another math lesson. It was great, I really think the staff are getting somewhere. At the end of it, we talked about the future plans for the TB compound and patient numbers, and the staff surprised me about their concern too. I was able to turn that concern into a question to them of what we can do, and they answered by getting back to work, and working damn hard on that tukel. It now has a roof structure and tomorrow the thatching crew is arriving at 0600 to start. Wow.

Evert and I reviewed the compound and he showed me what other land we can take over from the community to expand the compound, and we decided on priorities and scheduling. I found someone who can get me materials for a good price, (hard to find hungry people to do that) and we are getting materials for far cheaper cost than before. Slowly slowly.

So, I guess that takes me up to today.

People have asked what a day looks like, so here goes:

- 0730 wake/dress/brush/go, opps slept too late. Meet with Log supervisor discuss plans, agree on prices etc.
- 0800 morning meeting with expat team.
- rest of morning: resolve getting drugs and other supplies to clinics, address small staffing issues (what do you mean your daughter was married but they didn't pay enough cows and now you need to get her back, or more cows and this will take you a week to resolve?) finalize cargo for the 5 different stops for Sunday's flight, figure out why our WFP food isn't here, hopefully before Saturday's TB distribution, etc.
- 1200, lunch then siesta!
- 1220, Maybe just quick lunch and siesta tomorrow, so I can go to meeting with the local authority. (Why does he want me now? Can't he see the sun is right up top, and my head is smoking?)
- 1300, pushing back a crowd of onlookers who are trying to help me pull up a leadline, as we are trying to determine the depth of water in a pump with a problem. ("No really, I would be faster if you didn't help me, thank you.") At one point I gave up, and let the five people lower a string down the hole. That's interesting, I'm going to remind them of their helpfulness when WFP comes around.
- 1400, staff supervisor meeting. Discussion: "we want more pay. With MSF B, they pay $95 for CHWs and $50 for guards! It is inhumane what you pay us." "Yes, but we fly in soap, salt, oil and maize for you, at a tremendous cost." "That's different." And so they explained it all, and we explained it all.
- 1500, (Ah good, a plane came, I can leave the meeting for a bit.)
- 1530, (Wow, same topic, still.)... and they explained it all...
- 1600, back to work for everyone. Time to check the storekeepers stock check. "Just like last week, and the weeks before that, you have to count the items, not just put the stock card number down. Remember WHY do we do stock checks?" "To see if something is missing?" "Yes, how will we know if something is missing, is we don't count the things?" "You're pretty smart." "Sometimes it feels like a curse."
- 1630 Boom! Tin can in fire going off. Now there is a fire near the fence and someone told me the fence is burning. That really got the blood pumping! Fire out, back to work.
-1700 few more instructions on constructions and other planned works. (Like building fire breaks in the fence) Teach (again) the water lady staff how to clean the water jerrycans.
-1800, finish consulting on water pump situation in market (slightly offending authorities with my unwillingness to race forward on a repair, when it risks damaging their pump to a future unuseable state.)
-1900, wander back to the compound in little daze, (oh day, please be over). Where is the guard? We have many guards, but I cannot find any. Ah, there he is. "Why weren't you guarding the gate?" "Nothing happens at the gate, I'm not needed there." "Okay. You're fired. Please on your way out can you ask the next guard if he feels it is important to stay at the gate?" "Please don't fire me. I'll stay at the gate." "Alright. I reconsidered. I'll hire you back as long as you stay at the gate." "I will!" "Okay, Goodnight."
-1930 Can everything else wait till tomorrow. Well not really. I should tell Evert I upset the authorities and he may have to defend me from some thirsty people who want to fix their pump tomorrow. They don't want to show me how a pipe wrench can do the job of a blow torch, and that one detail can make the pump unuseable for good.
-2000 Finished. Sammy made some chips and cabbage, great food. A little emailing home, (why is the battery out of power? I charged it all day. That can definately wait till tomorrow.) and now sleep.

So there it is, a day in South Sudan.

(Other quick news:

- It has been decided that George, our goat that had far too much personality to kill and eat, will be used as an anatomy lesson with the national medical staff, and then eaten. We are upsetting people by not eating their gift to us. "Please explain again, what is a pet?" This way we can recognize his special nature, by not just cooking him, but remembering him, a little.
- Two baby eagles dropped from their nest and were attacked by the cats. Liz got to them before problems, so we adopted them. One of the pilots today said he was friends with a vet in Loki that rehabilitates large wild birds. Bye guys!
- As always, the expat team here is wonderful.
- Bats flap about a lot in this tukel at night, it is a nice breeze.
- There was a fire in the SRRC compound across the way, and the fence
burned very quickly. Everything is very dry and ready to go. I re-planned some buildings for fire-breaks, and will add fire-breaks to the compound fence. Especially after today's fire.

Well, I'm going to survive this one, or at least pick something really big to be the reason why I didn't. It's late. Take care of yourselves, goodnight,

Love,
Steve

Message #22 March 9, 2004

Hello Mom and Dad,

On Friday afternoon I was appointed, "team leader," a point of communication position with the team, since Evert, our Project coordinator, was taken out due to medical illness. 10 hours later I sent the following message to Loki:

"Fire in compound. No one hurt. Significant losses of compound and stores."

I finished my vacation on the 24th of Feb, and two weeks later I was well into the routine of Lankien, which is no routine at all. Since landing there nearly 6 months ago, I have been in a daze where I often think, "I can't believe this," and that fascination of the, "Lankien normal life," continues.

At approximately 2200 on Friday night (March 5th), a fire started in our lab. The alarm was raised and people quickly went into action towards trying to move fire fuel away from the fire's path, and empty any structure in the area.

By 2300, the fire had consumed our lab/logistic tool store, our expat food store, our office, our pharmacy, our specialized food store, a number of smaller structures, three expat tukels, and the hearts and minds of many. No one was hurt beyond minor cuts, minor bruises and minor burns. Besides the burned structures and stockpiles of things (wood, grass, pipes, pump rods, etc) much fencing was destroyed as we tried to steal it away from the path of the fire. The fire was an awesome, powerful force. Often a burst of embers would be sent up in the air, and a crew would run downwind to put them out before they lit other tukels. I think many things caught fire due to these embers, and the heat a fire like that has, even at 5 meters away.

By 2330, the fire was under control. Under control meaning limited in how much it grabbed. The fire breaks we torn in the fence and structures was enough to limit it. There were still bangs and booms as different things overheated, but the fire wasn't spreading any more. We assembled on the airstrip with a small pile of gear, which was all we were able to save of the compound.

Our radio antenna and power supply cables were burned, our mini-m satellite cable was a little burned (I think that is the reason it wasn't working) two Thuraya sat phones were gone, and the third one had problems transmitting, and our portable Q-mac radios were fine, but in the night time the atmosphere is difficult to transmit, so that wasn't working either. We were without comms, but no one was hurt.

At 2334 I called on the not-so-working thuraya sat phone to Arjan, our head of mission. He answered, but could not hear me, so after some time hung up. 5 minutes later, I received a call, again I could not be heard, but at least he knew something was up.
Earlier that day, as he was appointing me team leader, he asked if he should hold off on his vacation with his family the following week, to give support to me. And now, 10 hours later, close to midnight, he gets a call from Lankien, and no voice. Sorry Arjan.

Over the next couple of hours we moved into the CMA (other NGO in Lankien) compound and were able to make a power supply and borrow their radio antenna and cable, then transmit to Loki our situation.

In the morning fires were still burning (smaller though) and it was setting in our minds what happened. We could look through the compound, where before we couldn't. What a sight it was; what destruction.

Plans were made, and meetings held with the team and counterparts.The community was good, but not great. Many MSF and personal things got looted during the night. The community asked people to bring them back, (even the local prophet claimed that people who kept things would be sick for 3-4 days), but many things were missing, that were not burned. Many things were burned though. Our most vital stores were gone. Gone, meaning leveled. There was a large cooking pot outside a storeroom, and in the morning I saw half of it, the other half was melted. (Wow.)

By mid-day, the Chiefs, Headmen and other Leaders of the clans and families that make our community gathered by the lab for a ceremony. They had been in discussion all night, and talking to their people. They had concluded the fire was not caused by the intent of a person, but rather an act of God. As such, the Prophet preached a little, other Headmen spoke of peace and good will, and a goat was sacrificed on the spot, as an offering to God, and to ask for forgiveness for whatever caused him to do this.

Over the night, all (175 TB and 145 KA) patients fled. The next day, they returned, but with little hope of continuing their treatment. Again, as before in the staff strike, as before when we were evacuating, as before at the close of many days, they looked to us for a sign that they were not alone. This situation, this location, and this political mess, does not make it easy for handing out hope.

During the Saturday, we arranged a flight and a plan for a team to come in to handle some things, as we left to Loki for a break. It was a long week with another threatened staff strike, a security situation, and the fire, and now the team would need some rest before sorting out the mess. The flight was delayed, and the team spirits sank a little. Fortunately, one of the vaccine carriers that was brought in "special" the day of the fire, was brought back to the compound, and inside of it was some cold beers and ice cream. Status report improved greatly: "One compound burned down, yet still have cold beers," the circus continues.

The following morning, we got our plane, and by 1200 handed over the mess and were heading to Loki for a de-brief. Arjan was there, (as he does during evacuations) and the much needed rest and recuperation began.

We have been briefing and drawing up plans for later this week. For now, time to rest. We plan to go back in on the weekend, and until some things are settled, we will just be holding operations, settling the hopes of the 175 TB and 145 Kala Azar patients.

It is a tricky place to work, the remoteness, the fire hazards, the lack of food and water, etc, etc, make it a difficult place to work. I asked Arjan how our donors felt about things like the fire and other evacuation costs. He replied, "as long as there is a need (indicated by are hundreds of people coming in to the clinics,) and as long as there is no official authority to take over our work, and as long as MSF is not a target in the insecurities, then MSF and the donors behind us, will be there." "But the costs, but the costs!" I protested (thinking of the night everything went up in smoke.) He paused and then replied, "Lankien is one of the most cost effective programs, for the results we see. We have cure rates in Kala Azar equal to hospitals in North Sudan. TB experts do not accept the cure rates we experience in Lankien, stating it cannot be done in insecure locations like Lankien. Lankien, and the people there are worth it!" "Okay." I'm convinced, "let's re-build."

Lots and lots of Love Mom and Dad and everyone else.

Please Note: This experience has taken away justification for me to have a bad day for the rest of my life. I hope this email finds you equally fortunate.

Love,

Steve

South Sudan Journal, Parts 19 & 20 (of 29)

stevedennis@egate.net (Steve Dennis) — Thu, 17 Nov 2005 02:46:00 +0000

Message #19 December 28, 2003

Hello Mom and Dad,

Well, I'm back in Loki now.

We got pulled out of Lankien on Sat the 27th and we have been here since, and will probably go back in on the 5th. It is a nice break from the work there, and a chance to sit back and tackle some issues that have been building up, without the small distractions that fill the day in Lankien.

This is a complex situation, and the reasons why we left are not as clear cut as a security threat to us, or the project, but rather some signs indicating there may be a tense situation coming up, and MSF is keen on us observing that situation from Loki, instead of in Lankien.

I'll try to simplify the politics of the area and reasons for our leaving.

Compared to Sri Lanka, this war is quite different. In Sri Lanka, there were clearer lines distinguishing one side from the other. Culture and language, along with the LTTE's ability to outlaw and enforce the suppression of any competing militant group in the fight for a homeland made the situation quite simple, the LTTE vs. the Government. Here there is a similar struggle, but I believe the geography and climate dictate that things cannot have that much order.

The leading militant group in the south is the SPLA, right now. There have been others, and there still are some that want a piece of the peace agreement between the Government and SPLA, but they are by far the minority, and will not get much from the peace agreement (when it is signed in January).

There are also the "White Armies" which are the local Chief's security forces, comprised of a rag-tag contingent of semi-armed farmers, sort of like a local volunteer fire-fighting force in a small town in northern Ontario.

Then there are the Government of Sudan (GoS) militias that comprise of South Sudanese, but hired by the Government for the fight with the south. These militias are comprised of Commanders that have the loyalty of men, and for a price, will be hired out to fight anyone’s fight. Our latest issue is with one section of GoS Militia.

The militia groups are caught in the middle of the people. These are south Sudan people, fighting with the government. They cannot easily return home (in SPLA territory) and be welcomed with open arms. We are living in SPLA territory, and the militia leader Commander Mabour brought some of his militia with him, to return home to Pultruk, approx. 15 kms north of Lankien. And that is just a tense situation to have.
When he first came to the area, (in early November) the team was pulled out of Lankien, just because it raised many questions and our local counterpart agreed that there were not many answers as to what this meant, and they suggested the leave.

Mabour moved south around Lankien, then further to the south, but the issue was not resolved (what he was up to, and how he would peacefully stay in SPLA territory) In the south (south of Lankien), he wasn't welcomed, so he moved north again to Pultruk.

As I've said before, Lankien is a NGO village, CMA and MSF are there (and not much else) and the people do appreciate our presence (thought at times is doesn't feel that way) and dislike it when we leave (mortality rates increase, issues become unresolved, etc). One indicator of this, is the Chiefs in the area, along with the SPLA commanders agree to keep any fighting out of Lankien. I believe even Mabour was respecting this, as he returned north to Pultruk and he stayed on a path very wide from Lankien.

So he returned to Pultruk to discuss things again, and tried to stay there, home again after the war. The SPLA informed him that he could stay, if he joined the SPLA, or they would allow him to go back north if he wanted to stay as a GoS militia commander, but he couldn't stay in SPLA territory, as GoS militia. There were a few days of talks, then the talking stopped, and it was decided that it is better to observe the situation from Loki.

We heard that fighting did start up and it was concluded shortly afterwards, with Mabour heading north again. But that doesn't matter to our situation since we are in Loki waiting for the situation to not only be okay, but have all appearances of settling itself. The SRRC (the SPLA civilian governing body, and our local counterpart) has seen us through many evacuations, and they know our dislike for the fighting and the value of our work. Leaving is not only due to the insecurity of the situation, but also because of the message that if they would like our assistance, there shall be no fighting in the area, or we'll leave. I believe that our leaving on Sat. was more for the message that we will only work if there is no fighting, rather than any threat to the team.

Enough politics. In short, Mom, I'm okay, and as we talked before, MSF is very quick to pull the team out if things get a little tense.

The evacuation went very well. By 0900 we heard the talking was over and the issue may be resolved by force. The previous day the SRRC had informed us a lot about the situation, and to our surprise, that matched our own staff's commentary on the events, and what they mint, so we had confidence in what they were saying. By 1000, we heard unclear reports of fighting starting, and SRRC could not confirm or deny it, so it was agreed to prepare to leave, (and confirm the reports later from Loki.) By 1100, we had a plan for a flight to be diverted to pick us up by 1300.

The compound is actually quite easy to pack up. We took all the valuables (there really isn't that much there, a couple computers, solar panels, files and some extra medications), and locked all the tukels not in use. We took down the communication equipment and solar panels (the panels have a long wire connecting them to the office. The thought is that during an evacuation, one can just snip off the wire next to the connection, then on return, reconnect the slightly shortened wires. I figure we still have 50 or so evacuations before those wires will be too short and need replacing.)

The medical people (James, Lindsay and Annagret) were busy handing over the medical part of the project to the staff. The national staff has been through so many evacuations, it seemed like they knew the routine and were coaching us on how to do it. Keys were handed over and extra pens handed out.

Evert (our PC) was busy liaising with the SRRC, and getting more info from them. They updated him on the situation, and things started looking better apparently between Mabour and the SPLA, but once a decision is made, it is final, we were leaving.

The plane came, and we loaded our gear, gave final goodbyes to our staff, and took off. Every time I think I am roughing it in Lankien, I think of the food that is by far superior in every way to what our staff eats, and I look at my return ticket back home; I am only a visitor there, the people that live and die there rough it. I do live in Lankien South Sudan, but I do live in a bubble of western life, with a passport and return ticket to take me out at
any time. It was hard to leave my friends and co-workers there. Through no fault of their own, they are condemned to stay; they were just born into it.

On the plane, there was a religious group heading to Loki for something. There was one sister, and many young men, dressed very smartly, all carrying bibles and crosses. We must have made an impression. Clad in dust, sweat and rags (well older cloths that we don't mind sacrificing to the Lankien God of Dust, Wear and Tear) we pushed our way on the back of the plane with a load of gear, greeted the pilots with big handshakes (since we had grown to know and like them over the time working with them) and tiredly settling into the chairs as if it held a comfort we hadn't had in a while. As we took off, I woke up and looked around, and everyone was trying to pray a quick one off before the end of the runway. (Funny, we all thought later; shouldn't religious people have less to worry about? Having faith and all...)

The flights coming out of South Sudan, always are... interesting. On this one, we had brought a patient that was "green lighted" to go to the Loki ICRC hospital, (gunshot wound to his hand,) then there was this religious group, traveling south to Loki, and there was us (an odd crew of people doing medicine in the bush) and our gear. We noticed the lack of chairs around, so once we were up, we went to the back, allowing others forward to the chairs, and allowing us to re-arrange the gear into a lounge area where we could play a game of dice and chat in a circle.

The sister kept looking back, disapprovingly, as we played dice, but I think she changed her perceptions of us, as we were attending to an airsick companion of hers, and all his airsick mess. I even caught a smile out of her, as I stood up after a turn at cleaning up. That smile quickly turned sour as we continued playing dice after the clean up was done. I guess you can't please everyone all the time. (We refrained from taking out the Christmas wine we brought with us for the flight back to Loki.)
As we landed on the tarmac, we met up with Arjan, our Head of Mission (HoM) in South Sudan. A lot of people have worked with MSF and have left because of bad impressions of the organization and the people running it. I can see how a large organization can collect some unpleasant situations or people. My experience in this mission, and my last in Sri Lanka, have been extremely good in the respect to people and the organization. My travel plans have been clear, and my personal opinions, accommodations, and other considerations have always been well taken care of, including during this evacuation.

As part of an evacuation, the HoM comes to Loki to de-brief the team to discuss things, and ensure that we are all right. So there he was, getting off his plane, as we were getting off of ours, 5 hours after the decision to leave was made (including a 2 hour flight for each of us). It was nice to see him there, as opposed to his best wishes and some reasons why he couldn't make it. The team is good, I am good, we are just a little saddened by leaving our co-workers behind. I know they will be all right, but it is more the fact that all people are not equal that gets to me.

MSF took us out for dinner and we would have stayed later for a good night out, if we weren't so bloody tired, so we slept instead. This evacuation is quite well timed, as we were starting to get pretty tired, and the rest is very welcome.

So, there you have it. Never a dull moment, again. As I said over the phone at Christmas, I'm glad I chose this work, for the challenges it presents would be unwelcome if I didn't. Also, I'm glad I have that return ticket, for when I get tired of this I can leave. For now, the rewards still outweigh the unpleasantries, and I am happy to be able to do this work.

I think that is not appreciated fully back home, I chose this work, and I am very glad I have, it is still the right choice for me. I received some letters from Canada trying to console me for the horrible Christmas and other times I must be having. I was a little offended by the thought, and the misunderstanding. With the team, we had a different Christmas than we anticipated, however through letters, emails, phone calls and our thoughts we were able to share it with our families and through what we had, we were able to make it a very special day indeed. (We didn't have the Christmas rush at the malls, the angry people at the cashiers, or the Boxing Day madness that raises one's blood pressure; and I'm not sad to miss that.)

I think the image of unpleasantries blocks out the very special things that we have in Lankien. There is the simplicity of life there that holds a stress-free atmosphere. I walk to work, it doesn't snow, my cloths are done for me, and if I am walking around town, kids join me and teach me things. I learn of other ways of living that I would never have figured out by myself. Also, I enjoy and value the work I am doing, to me that is important too. The nature is wonderful and very dynamic. There are a thousand different types of insects each with their different actions and particularities. I am fond of the praying mantis; I have seen about a dozen different types of mantis' each looking like they are praying. At night, sometimes they come to the computer screen and sit on the top, and just watch the human watching them, for hours. Also, in quieter moments in the office, you can hear the surround sound of ants eating the roof; it is really quite frustrating that our roof is being eaten away while we work; you can hear the lifespan of the roof being eaten up. Where else in the world can you have that in your office?

Well, I should get on to some work. Loki is nice and cool these days, temperatures around 28-30 and cooler in the nighttime. The team here is very friendly and knows to have some cold beers in the fridge when the team comes from Lankien. (Very nice!)

I hope all is well back home. Thank you all for your Christmas Wishes. Have a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year too!

Cheers,

Steve

P.S. Christmas started on the 24th. We received a large load of food and gifts from Loki, including turkey, goat, cheeses, wines, chocolates, etc etc. We had a great night of food, drink and presents on the 24th, and a nice day off work on the 25th. The 25th we cooked the turkey (deep fried it in oil over the fire; odd looking, but it tastes great) and continued the other food. It was a Christmas away from home, but the spirit was alive and very well and it was very nice.

Message #20 January 7, 2004

Hello Mom and Dad,
I'm still in Loki. On Monday we went to Lankien to see how things were,and to re-stock some of the drugs there, but not to stay. Things are stilla tense, and unresolved so we do not have any plans to return just yet.It was good to see the staff again, and hear that most of them are well.Most, but not all. With everyone being related to everyone else, no doubtthat with the fighting, some of our staff had lost brothers and fathers. Allof the fighting had been outside of Lankien, near Pultruk (15kms away), butstill within the reach of family ties.
Our clinic in Pultruk was looted and the staff had fled to Lankien, sinceMabour is looking for health workers. "What an evil man" was one of myfirst reactions, but (as with everything else) it is a little morecomplicated than that. During the fighting, the SPLA was able to surroundhim and his men, and he had some losses and severly wounded. The SPLA didnot allow his wounded out to the CMA clinic where they could assist. Ithink that is part of the reason why he looted our clinic in Pultruk, toget some medical supplies and maybe a health worker to assist his wounded.International Humanitarian Law (the Law of warfare) has some strong wordsabout allowing the wounded to seek medical attention, and it also has wordsabout looting health facilities. In Loki we have been in discussion withthe ICRC (International Committee of the Red Cross, who deals withProtection issues like that, and also patient transfers) as well as the VMT(Verification Monitoring Team, who mediates between the different sides toensure people play by the rules). What a joke I think some of that ishere, "playing by the rules." Mabour had killed some SPLA soldiers, andthey are suppose to hold back all grudges and allow wounded through tobecome healthy again, and maybe fight them again. That may work in theconventional wars of Europe, (where courts of law can hold back combatants)but here where the value of life is much different, (where the mere valueof food to feed patients is too much) the same laws don't apply so well.After Lankien, we went to Bimbim to re-supply and change some expats. Itwas good to see the team again from there. Over the last month I had onlybeen in touch with them on the radio, wishing them well and trying to makethings easier by sending them all they need. But seeing them in person,giving the big Christmas and New Year's greetings as they should be given,was very nice.
Bimbim is another place in the middle of no-where. ("No-where" is becominga really big place for me!)
Their compound is very basic, the start of a fence, a couple shelters fromthe wind and sun, an enclosure for a shower and another one for the latrineand that is all. They have it quite rough there. After a rough landing onthe short, bumpy airstrip, we unloaded and re-loaded other supplies, and hada good time catching up with the team and discussing some operational issues.Then, off again, no rest for the plane, it was a long rotation, and a longtrip back to Loki before the evening.
After landing again in Lankien (to re-fuel) the pilots showed us the shockpiston of the front wheel of the plane, it was leaking fluid. On thelanding and take-off from Bimbim, we had broke the seal they had warned uswould be broken with that rough airstrip. They declared Bimbim to again bea no-land airstrip. What a hard place this country is.
The issues are... "a little more complicated than that", that being, justan airstrip in poor condition. The black cotton soil there, has dried,cracked and formed little particles like gravel, for the whole length ofthe runway. After clearing more trees to the side of the air-strip,burning the grass on the air-strip, and trying to fill the holes in themiddle, the labour force of the community is spent. (Most of the communityhas Kala Azar, or is caring for people with Kala Azar. So their minds andbodies are not too able.) We discussed filling fuel drums with water androlling the airstrip, compacting it with more water, but there is verylittle water there (one borehole with a 3 hour queue even in the late hoursof night, and early hours of the morning.) There are no roads to Bimbim,etc etc. We are trying to find other options to servicing this place, butwe are running out of options.
On the long flight back to Loki, the team was silent. There was agreen-light (the ICRC term for someone they will take in the Loki ICRCHospital for repairs and fly back home) a kid with a pretty bad openfracture in his arm that happened a few days ago, and his mother.
Pretty incredible health service this place has. You break your arm oneday. The local clinic, if there is one, immobilizes it and puts somedressing on it too. Then a message is sent by foot to a location wherethere is a radio to contact ICRC to request a green-light. ICRC determineswhether it is something they can fix, (under their mandate of emergencylife-saving surgery) and they account for life expectancy of the patient onthe trip to Loki too. If all approved, the green-light is given,(red-light means you are on your own), and you are allowed to hitch a rideon a willing plane returning to Loki. A couple days later or maybe a weekor two, there is a plane in the area and it can take you to Loki. Sometimespeople are carried to Lankien to stay there, until a plane comes. The plane comes, there is a dash to meet it and then you get on-board,bound for the magical place... Loki.
No one has been on a plane before, and it is not known how the whole thingworks and how long it takes. Most people don't realize to relievethemselves before getting onboard, and almost everyone gets sick during theflight.Once you arrive in Loki, there is an ambulance (landcruiser) waiting, somefriendly, but seasoned, attendants to take you away to the hospital (mostpeople have also never seen a car before) and there you will spend the nextmonth or two, until the process is reversed. Unless you die there, thenthere is a message sent home to your village, and the family finds whatclosure they can with that. I think it is easier to find closure here,death is everywhere, and as such people move on quicker.
On our flight back to Loki on Monday, things weren't any different, butthis patient and his condition were just one more thing, along with thenews from Lankien, the situation in Bimbim, etc, etc, to remind me of theplace I was in, and the hardships that the people here have, and againquestion that infinitely popular question in aid work, "what are we doinghere?"A few days ago, I read a poem that I think puts to words some of mythoughts.
A Bed for the NightI hear in New YorkAt the corner of 26th Street and BroadwayA man stands every evening in the winter monthsAnd gets beds for the homeless thereBy appealing to passers-byIt won't change the worldIt won't improve relations among menIt will not shorten the age of exploitationBut a few men will have a bed for the nightFor a night the wind is kept from themThe snow meant for them falls on the roadway.Don't put down the book on reading this, man.
A few people have a bed for the nightFor a night the wind is kept from themThe snow meant for them falls on the roadwayBut it won't change the worldIt won't improve relations among menIt will not shorten the age of exploitation.- Bertolt Brecht
I somehow find comfort in those words. (In engineering skule, I neverthought I'd say something like that. But really, that's it.) People dieall over the world, that's what people do, they live, then they die, hereis no different. The way I get involved is "giving a bed for the night."Humanitarian action (assuming it started in 1860 with the creation of ICRC)hasn't stopped all wars, but it has eased some suffering and soften thehardships it brings. And maybe that is all I'm shooting for. We can bringsome incredible medical things to people who are suffering because of thewar, and that helps them sleep easier at night, eases some suffering, in anenvironment (physical and political) that is harsh. It will not change theworld, it will not improve relations among men and it will not shorten theage of exploitation.
Well, got to go, still work in Loki to do,
Lots of Love,
SteveP.S. Wanda, I did receive your email just now. Regarding organizationsworking in Iran after the earthquake. There are many. The UN has manyorganizations, UNICEF, UNDP, UNHCR, etc. ICRC is there, Oxfam (water andsanitation), ACF (Action Contra Fam, or something food wise) WHO (WorldHealth Org.), WFP (World Food Program) and many many others. Also MSF hasresponded to the emergency with providing some emergency health care.(With an emergency like that, the population will become weaker due to foodand water shortages. With a weak population, they are more at risk todiseases and other usually non-threatening problems. Similar to here, mybody can fight Kala Azar, but I get three meals a day, the reason it iswiping out a large population is that they do not have ample food orwater.) If you are serious about finding a good place to donate somemoney, I would investigate it on the web. The NGO's I listed above I knowdo good work, but there are hundreds others too. The only one I know wellis MSF, and as you know, I approve with how they do things. (Also I wouldlook into which ones have won a Nobel Peace Prize before, and why.) As forgetting an honourable NGO, not one that is bogged down with administrationfees and high salaries, you'll have to dig for that one, but maybe thiscould be a good project to spend some time on, learning of the differentNGOs, what they do, how they do it, and more importantly, Why. There arealso some books out there that critique different NGO's and how they dothings. The one that I picked up this week is called, "A Bed for theNight." It looks into humanitarianism and the different players over thelast few decades. (That may be different than what you are looking for;Humanitarian Law is about warfare and rights of people in wars, whereasHuman Rights is basic human priviledges outside of warfare, but often theissues are deeply related. The famine in Ethiopia is a natural disaster(falling under Human Rights), but the genocide that caused the people toflee their fertile lands and force them into areas that have drought makesit more of a Humanitarian disaster.) Sorry, no answers here, but yourwillingness to donate money is a grand thing, and I trust your carefulnessto apply it will make someone appreciate your gift.

South Sudan Journal, Parts 17 & 18 (of 29)

stevedennis@egate.net (Steve Dennis) — Thu, 17 Nov 2005 02:45:00 +0000

Message #17 December 16, 2003

Hello Mom and Dad.

Boy it has been a little busy since I returned back to Lankien. It seems hard to believe that it has been only one week and a day.

Here is an excerpt from an internal MSF news report, "Over and Out." It reads:

"Sudan: team to Bimbim to fight kala azar outbreak Last Sunday MSF-Holland sent a team to Bimbim in Eastern Upper Nile, near the Sobat River, where there is a serious outbreak of kala azar. MSF has sent a team, since the clinic of ADRA in Bimbim is overwhelmed. In the first two days, 110 people were tested and it is expected that many results will turn out positive. Most of the people tested reported that they had lost at least one family member to the disease. The outbreak seems to be epidemic in nature, since it affects all age groups and both sexes. Most people had not been traveling, which indicates that the disease is spreading within the resident population. ADRA also has over 100 kala azar patients in a clinic 8 to 12 hours walking distance from Bimbim. Priorities for the team are now diagnosing, treating and passive case finding. The team will try to evacuate the sickest patients to the better-equipped Lankien clinic, however, as Lankien is in hostile territory for the Nuer of Bimbim, this might be problematic. The start of the kala azar treatment in Pieri and Pultruk, close to Lankien, has been delayed following militia movements in the area. Security in Lankien has been increased."

We sent our outreach team there a little over a week ago, and things looked quite grim. We were sent the DAT tests to complete in our lab, and the daily numbers were a little scary, 42 completed, 37 positive for Kala Azar; 45 completed another day, 40 positive. The team on the ground also couldn't test everyone that showed up, there just wasn't enough time in the day.

After the first night they were on ground, Dennis (a Kiwi Nurse) asked for some blankets (it was cold at night early last week). I asked him how urgent it was (since there is only so much space on the plane). He answered, "the most severe ones are dying at night with this cold, please send soon."

We often hear someone declare, "that was a preventable death," or others shake their heads mumbling, "it's too bad, this is a preventable disease," but I haven't seen it so clearly defined as Kala Azar, in South Sudan. Coming in early, one can get medication and survive. Come in late, or never, and you will die.

In Lankien, we were doing our best to support them, putting together supplies for them to build a clinic, find/train staff and a few things to live off of (shelter, water filters, cooking equip etc.) We have been having flights every couple of days, and that has kept things very busy here.

The community in Bimbim has taken them in fully we hear. There are no issues about staff motivation or lack of people helping out. It is a solid community, with a recognized problem and ambition to survive it. They have been asking for help for a while, and MSF was able to get there to look into things, and fortunately do something about it too. With Christmas coming, a lot of other NGOs are leaving the field for the break. It is sad that we are still here, instead of with our families, but it doesn't feel right to leave at times like these.

By Thursday, all the late nights were getting to me, and I was fully looking forward to the weekend; until I heard the dull mechanical noise that only a certain airplane has. I looked up and a WFP (World Food Program) Buffalo flew overhead it's landing gear coming out.

The Buffalo (WFP has three of them in Loki) is a very impressive aircraft. It can deliver 8 tons of cargo, land in tricky airstrips, and take off with very little runway. The last time a Buffalo "happened by our way" we got a surprise 4 tons of food. A blessing to the hungry, but a thing to be feared by the tired. I was tired, along with the labour staff who had been working pretty hard that week too.

I started off through the clinic to the exit, calling some of the labour staff to call the others and come for a look. It could be empty, it could be full for someone else, or it could be for us; I was hoping it would be gentle on us, for it was Thursday afternoon, the clinics were empty of caretakers to help us, and there weren't too many hours left in the day for the slow task of moving food to the compound.

Sure enough, it was for us. It was a nice mix of cereals (Shorghum), pulses (lentils) and CSB (Corn Soya Blend) mix; 4.5 tons in total. Again, I got frustrated by the lack of many men to move one muscle to carry this stuff. I would ask, "why aren't these men helping out?" and I would get a laughing response like, "oh, the women like to do that work," or "Oh, ha ha, that is not work for the men."

I recognized that laugh, I occasionally laugh the same way when trying to explain the obvious to them, "Ha ha, you can't just fly in a car into Lankien," or "Ha ha, we can't just buy boots for everyone and have them here tomorrow." Was I not understanding the obvious labour division between the men and women?

Along with the cargo, there was a heavier burden; a WFP man telling me much more food was coming for us tomorrow.

The next day, we received another plane of our own, plus they had news that two more planes were heading our way. By 0900, another buffalo landed and dumped another 4.2 tons for us. The sun was still down low, but threatened that it would be a long hot day.

When big planes come in for us, we close the clinic until the load is brought in by caretakers and staff. It is a dirty trick, but if we cannot get it in by nightfall, we could lose a lot of it. I have problems with this set-up, but there aren't too many alternatives, so like everything else, we do what we can. We have a labour staff that can take care of small loads, but 4.5 tons is another order of magnitude, and we need help with that, so the clinics are closed and food distributions stopped, until the food comes in.

The WFP man, George, told me that more food would be dropped in the drop zone, about 1 km away from our clinic. Later on Friday afternoon, a HUGE airplane, (an Illusion) flew by a couple of times, then on one low pass, it tipped upwards and a small load popped out the back and scattered in the breeze like dust off a the back of a model plane. That dust turned out to be 9 tons of wheat.

A lot of the bags spilled out onto the field. Our counterpart (local community liaison) tried to get some people to help gather and transport the food back to the compound, but that was quite fruitless, he also has problems motivating the people. ("Ha ha, don't you understand, no one will move a muscle." I thought of telling him, but declined the opportunity.)

By 1700 nothing had come back to the compound, so we made arrangements to guard the food for the night. A fairly high commander in the SPLA was in town, and he offered his men to guard it overnight, and to our surprise, no problems came up and most of the bags were there in the morning. We get on nicely with him, and I think he personally asked that nothing go missing that night.

The next day was not so nice. It was Saturday (usually a half day of work) but 9 tons of wheat was waiting for us 1 km away. That can feed the patients in the clinic for about 6 weeks. I hate the times when food gets short and we have to cut rations to the patients, so I was quite eager to get it in before losing it. We made a deal that 10 bags would be used as incentive (payment) to porters (after the 2 bags for the gatherers and 1 bag for guarding was paid, also a lot of the spilled wheat was spread too thin over the field to be collected) and a rough group headed off to the field to start the task of carrying it back. All day the wheat trickled in, slowly slowly. Also, people divided the bags into two, so people could carry 25kg bags instead of the 50kg. I don't know how WFP decided that 50 kg bags should be used. I think they looked at the breaking strain of a person to carry food, then increased the amount given that the people would carry more if they were hungry (and ignore the fact that they may be weaker if they are malnourished).

There were a lot of loses, some of the bags had holes in them and unnoticed to the porter, a line of wheat was drawn out sometimes. Then kids would run in and collect all they could and head home. I think people here respect that MSF property is not to be taken, except if there is a reason, like it falls on the ground. If something falls on the ground, it isn't MSF property anymore, and you can take it. If something is measured out, and there is extra, it doesn't need to be returned, you can take it, etc. We lose so many things, but I doubt many of them are taken, I think people just, "share" them, or help us get rid of broken things (regardless of who broke them).
So, by late afternoon there was still lots to come, and the porters were very tired. (Porters were all but one, female.) There was a lot of loud talking by the ones supervising (men), and a lot of pointing in the direction of the drop zone. After the yelling slowed, and people were not moving, I asked what was going on. (I don't like getting involved too much, since I have a hard time understanding the rules here, but sometimes I can't bear the yelling and appearance of a misunderstanding.)

"The women complain that their babies haven't eaten all day, and they want to stop now and feed their babies. They won't carry any more until they can feed the babies. I told them to move, but they refuse." I cannot argue, that is one of the best reasons I can think of not to leave for another load. "Can we feed the babies some of the F100 (special therapeutic milk)?" I asked. There was an angry sounding translation, then the ladies got up again and headed for the field. I handed out the sachets of milk powder to the right people and that issue was resolved. That was just one of the many types of situations that arise here.

Just as the sun went down, the last of the bags came into the compound. In total, we only lost 1.5 tons. The WFP man was telling us how sometimes up to 50% can be lost in the drop. In nearby Pultruk, 40 tons (out of about 90) was looted in less than an hour about 2 months ago, so I consider our loss pretty good. We also agreed that many of our motivation problems came from the situation where the community didn't receive any food this time, only the patient food.

So the food was in the compound, but not in the storeroom, that would be done on Sunday after church, at 1200, people were just too tired now, and now that the food was somewhat secure, we could rest. (The commander and his troops had left that day, and we no longer could have security for the food overnight in the drop zone.)

But, there wasn't too much rest that night. There was a plane in the morning for Bimbim again. They needed more supplies, so we spent some time gathering the right stuff, and fabricating things if we didn't have them. Also, Charlie, (my Logistic Coordinator who was visiting at the time) said there was another Buffalo coming in the morning. Charlie has a way of joking sometimes, so I laughed and without other comments I went straight to bed, half believing him.

In the morning, our plane came, we traded cargo, and to the disapproving of the staff, I hurried them along with the transport to the compound. Maybe Charlie wasn't joking, I didn't know, but I wanted to secure this load just in case.

Just as the last of the cargo was stowed in the compound, there was that dull noise again, a Buffalo. I was sitting around with the labourers doing a little math in the sand (which has taken on nicely after the weekly math lessons) when this happened. They all looked at me in tired eyes, asking, "is that for us? Please say no." (That's funny, how did Charlie plan to have an empty Buffalo come by to continue on the Joke? What a timely complex joke. Ah that Charlie, funny guy, ha ha.)

It landed and pulled up to the cargo clearing. I hopped in the back and found the pilot. "Who is this for!?!" "It's for WFP!" "Really!?! Not MSF, project number ..." "No!" (Oh, this is good, this is really good, I briefly thought to myself.) "Where is the WFP person?" The pilot asked. "He left yesterday." "Is there anyone from WFP on ground?" "No." I answered as I started thinking of how to slip away from another 4 tons of shorghum. "Let me call and get clarification." (I'll let you do anything you want with your plane, your cargo, your waybill etc. Knock yourself out! I'm going to sleep.)

He talked on the radio for a bit, then returned, "It's for you." I guess when it rains, it pours. WFP hadn't delivered anything for 2 months, and over the last 4 days, we got it all.

On Sundays, we have no clinic, so no caretakers would help. Any community people that felt an obligation to help us were completely spent on yesterday's efforts. The log staff was looking tired too. It was 0930 once the Buff took off, there was a very awkward silence. I didn't know how we would get this load in. It was another 4.2 tons, and I thought we spent all our energy on the other loads. I was lost for ideas; I really didn't know what to do. I asked around (my favorite problem solving tactic,) but only got blank stares. We sat down on the bags and talked a little about other things. That didn't get the pile any closer either.

Occasionally here, I start doing something and wish with all my might that I don't end up making a fool of myself. Like the time we visited the school and agreed to sing a song for them in reply to their many songs; like the times I've practiced my Nuer words in a crowd; like the times hard problems are thrown at me and I come up with a different solution; like the times I spend lots of money on building something (and hope it is the right size, location, construction, etc); like the times etc etc. etc. Sometimes I'm right and people smile, many times I'm slightly off and people laugh, sometimes I'm right off and people don't say a thing.

In those minutes we were sitting on the load of Shorghum and talking of other things, I was getting over my stage fright, and preparing myself for another one of those moments. Would they smile, laugh or say nothing and watch me head down the lonely path of ridiculous. I got up, declared, "I think it will be a long day," and got Issac (the biggest of them) to help me put a bag on my shoulder, then I walked to the compound.

I was scared to look back, were they laughing yet? To my relief, I heard another bag get loaded on someone and on I walked. When I dumped my load at the other end, I turned around to see a stream of other bags coming in and people saying, "Tall man, tu-boom." (I have been named, "Tall Man" and Boom-Boom means strong, and Tu-Boom means a bit more.) I figured with such a complement, I should summon the strength for another bag, and back I went.

This continued for quite some time. Many pauses, many shoulder slaps and handshakes. "Boom-boom", "Gua-gua", "Gua-long-a-long-a-long" (Strong, good and very very good) yelled back and forth powered us along. My back was getting sore, but I could tell that it was part of the works that brought the food in. If I gave up, they would, and if they gave up, I would too. What a delicate balance.

The last bag came in, and that last person flopped down beside the rest of us. Even though we are different people from a world apart (by geography, culture, technology, etc), I felt more that day than any other, we were the same people.

We hobbled back to the main compound, and to my horror, I spied the pile of 7.5 tons of wheat, just outside the storeroom, ready to go inside that we left the day before.

The eyes came back to me, but I could easily reply this time, "I think we rest now." One mutiny averted!

"When do we load it?" (Oh, don't make me the evil one today please. I thought.) "When do YOU think is a good time?" (I cunningly put it back out.) There were many discussions and arguments. I said I would get some water and return to hear their answer. When I returned, they were loading it into the store; I couldn't believe it. One of the guards said, "after we do this, then we rest really good, so we do it now." That was true.

Within a couple of hours, the area in front of the storeroom was clear, and the room was full to the tops of the walls with food. I looked at the walls, noting any larger cracks that would indicate too much pressure inside and tried to recall some of the lectures on foundation walls in my soils mechanics courses. My observations were positive.

The Log supervisor took me aside (as he does when asking for something) and said, "I think the staff is tired now." "Looks like it eh." I replied. "I think they should have two days off." "I think so too."

All in all, 19 tons of food came in, around 7.5 from 1 km away, the rest just 150m. That will keep the 300 patients fed for a couple of months. It is good to have it here, but damn we pushed our limits beyond what we thought possible to get it here. I have been impressed by the lengths people here go to, to survive. Patients are carried for 5 days to get here, people eat terrible things, and people live in the harshest conditions, just to survive. I think there is a wide range of conditions that humans will survive in, and I think this place is close to the limit of what is possible. It almost seems comical to hear something like, "it's not fair," for nothing is fair here, so why start counting now, you'll run out of breath.

After the food was stowed, I went to the pharmacy to stow some meds that just arrived, but I was interrupted by Evert the PC. "Here is a tea, in 5 minutes we have to leave." "Are we being evacuated?" (Are you joking too?") "Yes, to the river for a swim. It is 1700, if we hurry we can dip in and be back by night." (Last week the team found a river that is still deep enough to float/swim in.)

I thought we were all too tired to move, but the opportunity to dip in a river (even if it involved a 30 minute walk) uncovered unlimited reserves of energy and we were off!

Well, just a little update to let you know that things in paradise are still not dull. Everyday is exciting, and some days are better than others. I shared in the day off with my staff, yesterday, and that was damn nice. We realize that too much work isn't good for the body, and so we have formalized some ideas on time off in the day and week. Also, X-mas is coming, and we are making preparations to slow down work over that time. We still have 300 hungry-sick patients, but with a little planning there will be times when they are not so hungry-sick and we can ring in the holiday season properly.

Glad to hear things are well at home, take care all, lots of Love too.

AND MERRY CHRISTMAS AND A HAPPY NEW YEAR!
Steve
Message #18 December 22, 2003

Hello Mom and Dad.

Never a dull moment... still. I don't know how a place can stay this exciting for this long, but it does.

The outbreak in Bimbim is continuing. In a couple of days, they will have the same number of patients as we have here. (Just had a radio talk with Dennis there, they now have 220 patients, that is 40 more than us.) Different level of care, but you really don't need much infrastructure to deliver medicine to people (in South Sudan, in Canada it is a different story). They are starting to encounter larger problems in the community and in the workings of the clinic, now that the initial onslaught is slowing, and the numbers are now just rising slowly.

There is only one water pump in Bim Bim, and with the population rising (due to increased patients, caretakers, stretcher carriers, etc) the pump is running day and night. We are looking into ways to get a drilling team there to put in more wells, but that sometimes takes time. There are no other options for water there since surface water has all dried up, and ground water is 60+ meters down (a little far for a hand dug well.)

Also, the ground is getting very hard and the waste is much and the dead are many, so other problems are occurring.

A team from Bim Bim set out to investigate another place nearby, where reports of Kala Azar were very high as well. They decided not to start treatments there too, because numbers were too high, and an organized effort would have to be made, and for that we need a little time to really step back and see the problem.

MSF has sent out a press release about this outbreak, hoping to get some other support from other NGOs, but with the holidays, this may have to wait.

Things here are keeping busy, planning the planes to re-supply, and the purchases to fill the planes, and anticipating the needs for the next while is a little tricky. It would be so much easier to do emerg. Planning if there was a Home Depot around the corner. It is getting hard to buy things 2 months before I need them!

As for other things... It is Christmas soon! It feels a little funny, especially all the Christmas songs on our radio, but it is coming together. We planned to have Christmas together (the outreach team and us) but this Bim Bim thing is keeping it from happening, we may do Christmas again in January. There will in fact only be 4 of us here (usually there are around 10) so that is a little odd.

The seasons are changing a little too.

When I got back, the nights were a little cold, (a very little cold) and the day is not that hot. It is windy too. It hasn't rained for the last month and a half or so, and the ground and air is very dusty. The ground is starting to get quite hard and cracked up. This soil is very impressive here. When wet, it is impressively cohesive, slowing a walk to a crawl, but when dried out in the sun for a month, it has a concrete like hardness and appearance, except for the wide cracks that could twist an ankle pretty easily. In fact, it is difficult to distinguish the difference between the dusty concrete that is formed here, and mud which is worked to a nice finish on the floors of most tukels.

There are different bugs and other creatures out too. Some large angular insects, and hundreds of small flies coming out one night, and none the next night. I've seen a couple of scorpions, but only a couple. The mosquitoes are almost all gone, so we can nicely eat and sleep without nets again (I hate these nets!) Also, there was a large lizard a while ago (almost 70cm (30 inches) long). Apparently that is a sign that the snakes will be out soon, but with our home-compound-defense team of 5 cats, we haven't seen any snakes, or rodents that attract the snakes.

Russell, the compound hedgehog has been popular around here. He waddles about at night until someone approaches, then bundles into a ball as people scoop him up in a towel (Russell has many sharp spikes on his back), then once we are done, he waddles off again. A couple of nights I found Russell trapped in a box in my room. I think if it weren't for his spikes, his species would be out-smarted and die off.

Also, all the plant life in the compound has dried up, except for one papaya tree, which gets its water from the shower. It has yielded papayas, (one or two a day) for a couple of weeks (Great stuff). But it is bending in the heat, and I fear any day, it will blow over in the wind like the rest. I hope the remaining fruit will ripen first. They look great! We have sent seeds to the other projects for Christmas; this tree is a good thing to have here.

The team is doing very well, but now there are only 3 of us here, tomorrow there will be 2. People are either out in Bim Bim or other investigations, or a couple are on holiday. Through this emergency in Bim Bim, people have been great to work with, doing what they can, regardless of job description or any other concept that becomes loosely interpreted here.

On Friday, I went out with the Lankien outreach team (Lindsay: expat nurse, and James and Steven: Lankien Health Workers) to Paak, to do a nutritional survey (a short one) and to investigate Kala Azar and TB cases there. We sent a message the day before, so when we arrived, patients were waiting. We did a little walk about the village with the MUAC (Mid Upper Arm Circumference) measurement tapes, and then spent the rest of the day in the clinic looking at patients and referring some to Lankien.

The MUACing went well. I went with James and the Paak clinic guard one way, and Lindsay, Steven and another Paak clinic worker went the other way. Most of the children were looking good, except for one I saw. He was 1 year old, yet his upper arm was 9cm around (two of my thin fingers or so). He was in our feeding centre when it closed, and now, (a month and a half later) no better off. I saw some other fat kids playing behind his mother, and inquired about the harvest; they said it was good, and they showed me their pile of food, pretty big. I asked them to come with us to the clinic and maybe there would be something we could do there. There are some simple hygiene things that can stop his diarrhea and maybe get him healthier, plus a little food, I don't know, it is pretty difficult for people here, but maybe there is something, so we try.

Back at the clinic, the crowd grew. Lindsay explained why we were there, and that we were looking for signs of Kala Azar, and she explained them. They included fever (we were looking at people with a fever for more than two weeks) and a large spleen. Surprisingly, the first person to be reviewed had a fever for two weeks, same with the next one, and the next one too. The spleen is a lot harder to make up, so we screened more on that, and other clinical methods.

I say we, because Lindsay showed me all about the spleen, where it is, how it feels, then she put me to work to screen people. There were just too many to look at for her, and the staff was a little difficult to work with, so on we went. I would find ones with what I thought had good symptoms (fever and big spleen), and sent them on to her. Over the last two years I have been learning many medical things, (seeing operations, managing pharmacies, etc etc) but I haven't consulted patients before. (Everyday something new!) Fortunately for the patients, I didn't turn any away, but rather I just brought the sick ones forward and took histories of the rest.

Taking a history is a difficult thing here. There is no private consultation room or anything. We held this clinic under a tree, where people were very open to strip right down and lie down to be examined in front of everyone. The difficulty is, that the history of the sickness becomes a group effort.

Example:

"This lady has TB!"
"How can you be sure?" I reply to the translator.
"She says she has TB, she wants to live with MSF in Lankien."
"Is she coughing sputum?"
"No"
There is a call from someone in the crowd.
"Sorry, she does cough sputum."
"Really, what colour? and please ask her."
There were some words.
"She says she doesn't cough sputum."
More words in the back.
"It is white."
"Really?" I inquire.
Lots more words in the back.
"Actually, she has had a fever for two weeks and a big spleen, she has Kala
Azar."
"Can I feel the spleen?"
"She says it may be small now, but this morning it was really really
big."
"Thank you for translating, you've taugh me lots."

By 1530 we finished and started the 2.5 hour walk back. Boy these guys can walk. If I stopped to drink water, no amount of walking faster would get me back to the group, I would have to jog.

On Saturday, we held a children’s party for the kids of the staff. Simple to organize (no time for anything else) and simple to run was our goal. It was a success. We had about 150 kids in total. We also had a back-up evacuation plan (dump the candy and run) if things went bad. The races were very funny. (WFP sack races, balloon between the legs races, tug of war, etc) It is apparent that we had developed skills from our Western lives,
that do not develop here. One boy in a WFP bag was jumping up very high, but not moving forward at all. The staff really got into it, and now people are hopping around town.

We also had some music later (boy the people love dancing here.) Then we had illusions of letting loose a couple dozen balloons in the dancing crowd for them to play with. In Canada, that would be a cool thing to do at a kid’s party. Here it was different. I call it social experiment 23 (after the 23,000 other social lessons I've learned here.) The balloons came out, and the cheerful dancing crowd turned on us, and attacked, we threw the balloons up, and to our horror, fights broke out to get them. It was a bad moment, one of those regretful instances where I wanted to give up trying to do good things, in fear of it being taken the wrong way. I don't do anything, unless I've asked others their opinion and delay by thinking of all the consequences of the action, before doing it, but still it ALWAYS backfires. As the fight went on, the parents sat back, (I think they were hoping the kids would bring a balloon home for them too) and the kids got angry. "How should we hand out the popcorn?" "Should we hand out the popcorn?"

Fortunately with all the fighting, there weren't many balloons remaining, and order was restored and it ended very well, but I appreciate fully the volatility of the people here. Tomorrow I will be handing out the Christmas gift to the staff (a blanket, a pad lock and a bed sheet), I will do lots of preparation to ensure crowd control (one at a time in the storeroom where I hand things out) and also ensure all the locks work. What a pain!

Anyway, things are well here. We are tired, but it is Christmas soon, and we aren't tired enough to have a good day off, and a great rest then too',

Time to go, lots of love,
Steve

South Sudan Journal, Parts 14, 15 & 16 (of 29)

stevedennis@egate.net (Steve Dennis) — Thu, 17 Nov 2005 02:44:00 +0000

Message #14 November 22, 2003

Hi Mom, thanks for the email.

I'm glad your students got a chuckle about the animal tukel, I certainly chuckled a little too when I found out where we were.

As for a quick Christmas list, I have some ideas. Spices and cooking recipes are good ones. We have been stuck in Wudier a lot longer than anticipated, and we are now down to 8 cans (4 of which are hot dogs), yet, everyone is still complimenting me on my cooking. (I have been doing more of the cooking, since they are still busy in the clinic.) Also, last night our propane just ran out, and I have been cooking over the fire now. Also, another NGO came here, and today I went over to help repair their radio, and they gave us some food. (It sounds more desperate than it is. We have another chicken for tonight, and now some veggies to go with it. Thinking about back home, I sometimes go camping (cooking over a fire) back home, this is just a little different.

As for the beer, we did drink it. We had a cow on Monday night, and we were suppose to get a load of food (and a hidden case of beer) sent on someone else's flight. So, what better occassion than 100kgs of beef cooking over the fire, to crack open the (single) beer. The plane never came. That wasn't too bad, because we were going to head out on Wednesday, but that plane got held up too. Tomorrow, there will be a plane, (even though there were some thunderclouds last night...) Good thing we are pretty patient, and we only have to look through the fence to realise we still eat much better than EVERYONE else here. (No I'm not fatter, just relative to people here, I am the fattest.)

I never thought of using beer for the yeast. When I am back in Lankien, I will try that one. It is funny, the medical staff is only women, and I think they, humourously, miss me and have a, "Steve can do anything!" attitude. These last few weeks, over the radio they have called with questions about different logistical things, and I have always had a good answer for them. I think they think I can really do anything. Anyway, it will encourage that myth by rising bread using the barest of ingredients, like beer; ha that will be funny! (I already have a bunch of recipies ready for the team there, including pigs in a blanket (canned hot dogs, wrapped in flour dough, cooked in oil), other sweet treats made of flour dough cooked in oil filled with jam, sugar, honey, etc. also chippattis, etc

I am pleased that the UN is looking after the welfare of MSF folks and YOU in particular. I'm sure by the time that you get this email, you will either be heading back to Lankien or staying where you are or ????

I'm still in Wudier, but planning to be back in Lankien tomorrow afternoon. That will be nice. Even though things are very relaxed here, I know there is lots of work for me there. Also, I want to get back to the math lessons, and some other project related work. And, I don't like the feeling of leaving the staff. When they heard I was heading to Wudier, they sounded disappointed. I told them I would try my best to get back soon, and now it is 3 weeks later, instead of 12 days.

I am planning to try and send you a little something for Christmas. Again I am at a loss of what to send. Quick with any suggestions, Steve, or you'll have to wait.

Besides the stuff above, I will call you when I am back in Nairobi (27th or 28th of Nov). I'll be out on R&R then, and will have a better idea of what I cannot buy in Nairobi. Having little sweets and treats, and some good reading is the stuff I miss most. As for clothing, it will all deteriorate anyway, so the stuff I have is good for now, and as far as other stuff, I'm going to try Nairobi first. I do wish I could send you some stuff cheaper. Maybe if I find a cash-on-delivery shipper, I can send you some things.

Sometimes doing hands on projects are a wonderful change of pace for me.

For me too. This project definitely has hands on stuff, relative to Sri Lanka. In Sri Lanka, I touched a hammer twice, and tinkered with things very rarely. Here, everyday there is something that needs my hands, and no one else with the skills to do it.

I never did ask Cathy about the little bonnets for the newborns. Is that still a good idea? What size would they be? It is helpful to know how large to make them. Circumference of the head and how long/deep. Let me know if I should go any further with this idea.

I think a circumference of 35-40 cms (maybe a variety of sizes near that range) and a similar radius deep, would be good. We have closed the feeding centre, so many of the children won't be there, but we still have 300 or so patients, and tons of kids around that can use them. Maybe I'll take 10-15 for now, and once they get here, if they are popular I'll request some more. I'm a little upset that I haven't found the right time to give a bear to a child. It is just that if I give one, then I feel I will upset the balance of things. Already I have seen some gifts causing fights between people, and I don't want to start that. So, for now I have kept the bears to myself, and will keep my eye open for the right time. (In Sri Lanka, I could have given hundreds of them by now, all to the right kids.) I will bring a bunch with me on R&R, and maybe treat a kid on a street or something.

Are you still planning, hoping, to get away in January and meet up with Christina for a holiday? If so, where would you go? For how long? Are her plans coming along to join the Red Cross or other organization late winter? I'm sure that you and she are getting very good, and perhaps better than most, at GOING WITH THE FLOW! ----whatever that means!.

Well, there was some news from ICRC that she would have to do an introductary course with ICRC in May. That doesn't work with our timing at all. We were hoping she would be out here at the end of January for holidays, then in March maybe for a 3 month contract with ICRC in Loki. Since that fell through, we are looking at the other MSF sections (France, Belguim, Spain, Switzerland) for other positions in South Sudan, ending
around June. I'll be done around June, and it would be nice if she was done then too, and we could travel for a little while here too before heading home.

As for where to, for the holiday. We are both thinking Zanzibar for some beach and maybe scuba diving too. Otherwise there are a couple of mountains in Kenya, and maybe even a Safari too. It is funny, we are very good at going with the flow. Our vacations so far have not been planned so well, however we have always had exceptional times.

Peter is wondering how many people are emailing you at this time. Is that too many or would you like more? Your father is like the director and can probably increase or cool the emails. Your feedback would be great.

There are a lot of emails coming in, it is quite nice. I wouldn't want to discourage it, but I wouldn't encourage it any more. If people ask if they can send anything, letters in the mail are ALWAYS great!

Well this teacher has two sets of marking to do tonight.

Alright Mom, have a good time doing those reports, and thank you for writing. Know that I am doing well, and I'm healthy too (though I shaved off all those German Beers I was carrying around my mid-section). I love you lots,
Steve

Message #15 November 29, 2003

Hello Mom and Dad, I am in balmy Mombasa, on the coast of Kenya. It is 0930 here, and probably 0130 there. I tried calling last night, (yesterday morning to you) but the time zones are making it difficult to connect.

In a few minutes, I'll be heading south to Tiwi Beach, for my relaxo. But, I thought I'd just send a quick one.

I left Lankien in the morning on Wednesday. The Casa (our most used plane) came by, right on time. Over the time that the team was out, we didn't get any supplies in, and therefore we ran out of almost everything. Plus, WFP wouldn't land there for a while. Food distribution on Tuesday went very easily, with no lentils, no oil, but just maize, unimix and soap. Also, we are out of other things we give the patients, blankets, mosquito nets, cups, etc. We were only out for a couple weeks, but I have been having problems getting enough flights to keep a buffer stock, and it is apparent now how important that is. So, the casa came in, off loaded enough to keep the project going for the rest of the week (approx 2000kgs). Later that day it would return with another load, plus WFP was coming with another 6500kgs, plus on Friday we chartered another buffalo for another 8000kgs, and WFP said they might try to bring another load on the weekend. It would feel good to have a buffer again.

So, with Lindsay (nurse also heading on R&R), Evert, Annagret, Yoseph, and Rob, we took off, and not fast enough. I have been looking forward to this R&R for a while.

We flew low, since we were dropping off Evert, Annagret, Yoseph and Rob in a place called Pierri. Over the last couple of weeks, we sent a health worker to that area to collect some Kala Azar data. He returned with some DAT tests to be looked at by the lab. 70% of those test, were positive for Kala Azar. In our clinic, only after review of a patient, by a more educated health worker, can they get tested, and we only have a 60% positive rate. Either this worker' abilities to find Kala Azar cases is exceptional, or there are some big problems in Pierri. So, a team was dropped off to do some more tests, and determine what sort of intervention if any can/should be done. One problem with this area is many people do not want to come to Lankien (the different clan thing).

So, off with the team, then off we went, Loki-bound!

The Casa is a great plane. It is run by Turbine Air, (a small operation that services most of the MSF projects there.) They always make sure there are cold drinks in the cooler, and hot samosas in the Tupperware. Plus, you can walk around, look over the pilots shoulder as he explains different things, or you can re-arrange things to make a platform to lie down and sleep on.

We got to Loki, and found out there was a flight south to Nairobi in a couple of hours. So, quickly to the compound, shower change into the nicer cloths I left there, then back to the airport. Loki is really dusty and hot. By the time we got on the plane, we were back to our dusty selves again.

In Loki, I started seeing some things that made me realize I had been out for some time. Money, cars, windows, fridge (what a holy thing that is!), shops, plastic, metal, cloths that cover, other white people, etc.

We got to Nairobi, and a MSF driver picked us up right outside the main gate. Man, there are a lot of touts looking for a fare. Even when we had a driver, clearly leading us to the car, others were offering us lifts.

Back to the guest house, then after saying hello to Arjan (Head of Mission) and his family, we headed out for a night on the town with Charlie (Logistic Coordinator) Lief (nurse heading home) Lindsey and myself. We had a good long night out. I could hardy believe the time travel I did that day.

The next day after a long sleep in, I did some shopping, then some emails, then got on the night train to Mombasa. With my shopping, I picked up a cheap Swahili phrase book. So far, it is treating me very well. On the train, I learned a few phrases, and practiced with the waiters. (The train was very nice. I got a cabin for myself which worked very well for me.) We arrived at 0830, and I put on my game face, and braved out to find some accomodation. I always find it an exciting and challenging time, to walk out of a station into an unknown town. I briefed up with a lonely planet book, and I had a good idea of major landmarks, three recommended places to stay and where the main square is.

I got to the gate to leave, and it was full of taxi drivers, waiting to prey on some Mosumgu (white guy). I looked around, oh, that must be for me, (I was the only one.)

"Hello, my friend, how are you?""sijambo, asente." ("Good thank you" Shoot did I say it right?)
"I will drive you, you need a taxi!" (He said, but with less confidence than before.)
"Hapana asente." ("No thank you." How about that, is it working?)
"No, taxi? Do you have accomodation my friend?" (Less confidence)
"Naam, asente." (Yes, thank you.)
"Have a good day my friend." (That was the fastest I have ever cleared the crowds at a train station. I must learn more!

Well, I found an internet cafe, and through talking to the owner got a good rate to call home and use a computer. Through further discussions he gave me some better advice on accomodation and food. "Shucoran." I said, ("Thank you", he was Arabic.) He smiled too, and replied something else, I must learn more Arabic too.

The town is nice, but I'll write about that later. I have a ride to the beach now, so I must get going. They probably don't have email there, so I'll write in a couple of days.

All is very well, I'm glad to be out to rest,

Lots of Love,
Steve
Message #16 December 1, 2003

Hello Mom and Dad

Did someone say December? I cannot believe that one; it is far too hot to be December!

Well, maybe not. I again am lining up to miss out on another Canadian winter. Just for fun, we showed some photos of snow to a couple of people in the project. First, photos are a black magic thing, so white stuff covering it all is just a little step beyond that. Already they are seeing magical medical things performed by aliens that come out of an aircraft (UFOs, until someone explained what they were to them), why not snow. In return, I see the same faces of skepticism around the table when someone explained to us how the monkey and the lion became friends, and how a snake and a human mated to form crocs and lizards. Is religion just another step into the unbelievable from what is known?

So, I just got back from Twiga Hotel, on Tiwi Beach, south of Mombasa. That was very nice, but getting there was a little hassle. I learned another good lesson in traveling. When I wasn't looking, I handed over 300 shillings (a few USD) to a fella that I thought I could trust, and saw him casually walk away, never to bring back that taxi he talked so smoothly about. If it were more money, I would have held my ground, if it were another person, I wouldn't have, if it were Sunday not Saturday, if it were this, if it were that.... but it wasn't. I even thought as he walked away, I hope that gets a good amount of food for him and his family (if he actually had a family), for I think this is the last time I will see him. And it was. As Jim mentioned to me once, (roughly remembered) "there is not much personal about robbery (I assume the same about conning money off me goes) in a less developed country. You know they are hungry, and your money probably is better spent with them." Looking at it now, that is true. I don't wish the guy any harm, and if I wanted to blame anyone I would look at the guy who handed him the money… me.

That was the beginning. Not a big deal, a few dollars, a little pride, and a lack of closure. I think I said a small prayer for him, something nice (I think that was more for my closure than his sake) and walked away. Now, I need to get to Tiwi beach again.

I started looking around for a quiet place to consult my lonely planet book for a price and recommended bus. In the meantime, dozens of helpful people were there to "give me a good price" to wherever I wanted to go. "Tiwi Beach, for you my friend, 3000 shillings, regular price 4000." "Ah, but Mutatu is very very cheaper." I probingly reply. "Ah, you are smart, okay, business is slow, I give you Mutatu price, 1500 shillings." "I'll consider, thank you, I'm going for a walk now." "1400 last price..." as I walked away. Same from 10 other people. It is hard work to walk around.

At this Internet cafe I have been using, I have been talking a lot to the owner. He has been very helpful in giving me information, and I have been helpful in using his computers, drinking his drinks, etc for two days straight. I got back here, and got his quotes. "The best way, Mutatu. Probably 35-40 shillings will get you there."
I have long since learned to delay a reaction to prices, since I usually have to do some math to put it into terms I understand. How many dollars in a shilling, how many Sudanese Dinar in a bar of soap, how many salt for a chicken, how many cows for a wife (kidding, I know it isn't a trade; just an agreement between the husband and the father, ha ha.)

So, the price dropped from 1400 to 40 shillings pretty quick, and armed with this info, I proceeded to find a Mutatu for the beach.

Mutatus are funny things. I think there is a budget means of transportation in every country, at least every country without strong transportation safety laws. In Guatemala, the Chicken Bus (converted US yellow school bus, that fits more Guate then a crate of sardines, and drives like it is stolen). In Sri Lanka, the little Tuk Tuk, (a three wheeled powered Rick Shaw, also driven like it was stolen, but these probably were stolen.) and here is the Mutatu, a mini van, somewhere in the middle of those two; drives in and out of traffic like a Tuk Tuk, but fits a full cargo like a Chicken Bus. They are everywhere, cost nothing, and as they drive in and out of traffic, they are magically protected by an invisible force field, they have loud horns, louders touts (attendants to collect money and encourage optimum seating) and can always fit, "just one more."

(On the ride back in today, we stopped and five people got out of the back seats behind me. (there are 8 actual seats there) I turned around, to see who was left remaining, and there were still 10 people in the seats, and a couple of kids on their laps, all pretty squeezed in. They all had straight faces on, like they were not going to tell me the secret to the 100 clowns in the Mutatu routine. I had to put on my "delay a reaction until I can do the math" face. I turned around silent, watched other Mutatus pass, and confirmed there were really only 8 seats there, and then I declared another wonder of the (my) world, just happened in my presence.)

Well, it is getting on time to take the train to Nairobi. I'll be taking the same night train back there. It is a little expensive, but a couple nice meals and a bed for the night, makes it worth it. I hope I get a cabin for myself again, this mid-day heat has turned my freshly showered Irish Springs Steve, into a less desired Canadian in a hot humid climate when he was rather designed to be walking barefoot in the snow instead. We'll see.

So, back to Nairobi tomorrow morning, then a day or two there for some work, and here how things are going in Lankien. Then back to Loki for some work with the folks there, and Lankien by the 6th.

I'll try again to call, once I get a phone at a time you are awake.

Lots of Love.
Steve

South Sudan Journal, Parts 12 & 13 (of 29)

stevedennis@egate.net (Steve Dennis) — Thu, 17 Nov 2005 02:43:00 +0000

Message #12 November 10, 2003

Hello Mom and Dad.

It is Monday afternoon, and I think I found a dull moment in South Sudan. I will write quickly, and hopefully finish before this little dull moment is over.

We just had a pretty big storm yesterday and last night. By 1500 in the afternoon we needed candles to see the playing cards. The sky opened and really dumped on us. At one point I looked outside and couldn't see anything holding my tent out of the water. When I 'swam' over there, and checked inside, it was afloat. I am very happy about the quality of equipment MSF provides, nothing was wet inside, the bottom was holding tight.

The roofs on the tukels here are not as good as the ones in Lankien (different type of grass), and these ones leak a little. Leaks here and there aren't so bad... back in Canada. Here, sections of the mud walls fall off with a little water, and once again I fully appreciate the wonderful building materials we have back home (like concrete, steel, and termite free wood).

This morning was filled with some repairs to the compound and clinic, and planning for more repairs for tomorrow once things have dried a little more. Lunchtime brought a slowdown to activities, and everyone had personal things to dry or repair, and now I have some time to tell you about a walking trip we had on Saturday.

Part of our role in this outreach location is to observe the health conditions in the greater Wudier area (and surrounding as far as we can walk, or patients can get to us), and note any risks to the population. It is easy to get bogged down in the clinic, just handling the cases at hand, and ignore the people that cannot come in to the clinic. Many stories are around of people concentrating on a couple of people and missing the dozens dying just 5 minutes away. So on Saturday the four of us, and 3 guides walked for the day, around Wudier to observe things, and survey the health conditions.

Here are a few comments from my journal about that trip.

We packed mostly water, but also some food, and our 'run-away' hip-packs, and that's all. What a day to remember. We left shortly after 0730, heading off on a small footpath out the back of a family clearing around 50 m from our compound. Two steps more and we were out of Wudier, swallowed into the bush. After only 30 minutes, we came up to a small river. Other people were crossing and showing us the depth, so we stripped down to our modesty, put our packs on our heads and crossed. We (the Kawagas, silly white people), must have been a sorry sight. After crossing and getting dressed, an old lady (her age shown by her wrinkled body) stripped, threw her belongings on her head and commanded herself across that river, as if she was walking across dry concrete in hiking boots, instead of muddy river banks, and 1.5m of water, in bare feet. I wanted to help an old lady cross a river, but I think my 'silly white guy' coordination would have killed us both.

We continued on our walk another 45 minutes and came up to a small settlement, abandoned. It was a little eerie, no kids playing, no cooking fire smoke, no dogs barking. Our guides told us that this group has gone to another area to fish, since there was no food there. On we walked.

As we walked, we talked to people and saw different medical anomalies (and referred them to the clinic). We saw cattle camps where 20-30 cows were grouped together, surrounded by piles of burning cow dung (to ward off the flies). We saw families where there was more farming (maize and sorghum) and some goats too. We met people on migrations, to look for more food, or to return to families after finding food; some were merchants from Ethiopia bringing their wares here to sell. People asked us, which migration we were on. ("They must be on a migration, look at how much they are carrying.") Our paths we joined many family clearings.

Something I have observed more and more here, is many things are held common among people. For instance we walked through people's clearings, because that is where the path lead. I asked about that, "should we walk around people's property?" Our guide questioned back, "property?" I guess when there is so much land; no one owns any of it. The only problem with coming so close to the people's dwellings, is that some of the children ran away (from the people who forgot to put their skin on.)

So there we were, popping out of the bush, and viewing a snapshot of life in south Sudan. Some of the snapshots I saw were: families sitting under a tree, grinding sorghum, old men lying down in the shade, as young ones played nearby, old ladies smoking big pipes, one time we came out of the bush and saw the sorghum refinery tree (a few fires under large pots, distilling the spirit out of the sorghum, while others lounged under the tree sampling the drink), sometimes we would see objects that really didn't fit the scene like a metal bed or chair that must have been carried for a few days. Usually people were working on things, grinding maize or sorghum, repairing tukels, caring for cows, etc.

We arrived in a small village, and started doing some MUAC (Middle Upper Arm Circumference) testing on children. This is a test to get a rough idea of the malnourishment of children 6 months to 5 years old. It is a simple test, just wrapping a plastic tape around the arm of a child, and measuring the circumference. (For those with kids back home, less than 136mm length is where we define children being at risk of malnourishment, and an arm of a circumference of 110mm or less, belongs to a child that is severely malnourished.) We tested about 30 children, and almost all of them were very healthy and fat (for kids here. I have yet to see a fat person, as fat as I am at least.)

We finished the MUAC testing, had some lunch and headed back. It was just a 2-hour walk (at the most, one guide said), but nothing is as it seems here, (I am learning.) As we started walking, a tremendous storm started up behind us. Here, as in times I've been in open waters, I am humbled by the size of the weather. The darkness was creeping up behind us, as lighting and thunder shot out ahead like the first shots of a battle to be had. The wind too was kicking up our feet ahead of us, but there were still a couple hours to go.

As we passed people's dwellings, makeshift repairs were being done, and people were huddling inside their tukels. Dust was being kicked up to and rising up quite high as it whipped down-wind and gone out of sight.

Then the rain came, first light (but the wind shot it across pretty hard to sting the sun-burned backs of our necks). We talked of taking shelter, and everyone agreed we had the time to wait it out a little. One of our guides walked up to a large tukel and pulled aside the wood from the opening and walked in. I started a familiar thought, "In Canada..." then put my unique finish to the phrase, "I would knock first." The second guide paused at the entrance and indicated for me to follow, then disappeared in the dark tukel. The rain started heavier, so I stooped low and charged in. I fumbled around a little, knowing there may be people I have to walk over and not step on, but the darkness of the tukel didn't allow for more guidance than just feeling around. I felt a clearing, and squatted, hoping my sight would come to me soon.

Slowly, I began to make out where I was. The smell should have given it away first, but my optimism prevented me from premature judgments. As my eyes adjusted, I slowly made out the shapes of about 20 goats, 3 calves, 1 very large cow, and a 12 year old boy, all standing there in complete silence. I think that was the first time any of them had seen white people too, and they were politely quiet about it as well. Everyone else came in, and we all had a nice silent moment to take in that we were holding out the storm in this unique situation.

The silence was broken when the cow urinated about 2 litres and everyone couldn't hold back the laughter.

The storm dumped pretty hard, but then was over. As we were planning to go, the mother of the boy came in, and mid sentence she paused. I think she too had never seen white people, and definitely not ones hanging out with the animals. "Son, I told you not to invite strangers, stranger than most, into our animals home!" I think I heard her say.

When we were leaving, our guides took off their shoes, and two steps into the walk back, I knew why. This damn black cotton soil is cohesive as glue! Within two steps, one could put 10kgs on the bottom of each shoe. Bare feet are easier to get around on. Fortunately, there are no stones here, so the soil is actually quite soft and almost enjoyable to walk through. After passing one river on the return, I left my shoes off, and after a couple times sinking up the knees in mud, this would be fun, in a different setting. The first time was great, the second time fun too. After a couple hours (on our 2 hour walk home) walking through mud, the magic wears out.

We crossed another river, a little more sloppy than the first one 10 hours before, the within 30 minutes we were back in the compound, and we crashed.

What a day. Sightseeing in South Sudan. I think I have traveled off the track, once or twice before, but nothing like this. Also, to travel off the track here, and bump into people living their everyday lives, as they always have, and as they always will, was a real privilege. I think of all I give when I am here is humbled by all I get by being able to live here, and live with these people.
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I continue now, Nov 15th.

I think I will make this an even longer email by also telling you about my week.

There really is so much going on, and too much to describe. This week the full moon was celebrated but singing and drumming by children at the church. (Actually every night here, they have been up till midnight singing and drumming, and up again at 0530. I don't think it is related to the moon at all.) One night we went there, to see what was going on, great stuff, people singing their hearts out, even the little kids.

I got out of the compound one day when I wasn't feeling too good, and walked the airstrip. A couple of kids wouldn't let me go, without smiling, joking with them and trading greetings back and forth. At the end of the walk, I was feeling much better, and the local young men persuaded me to play soccer with them. (A tight bundle of leaves with a cloth stitched around it makes a great ball.)

The Lankien team had been evacuated on last Friday. There is a peace process going on in Sudan between the north (Gov of Sudan, GoS,) and the south SPLA, but there are a couple of groups of soldiers that have not been considered in the peace talks, and it is uncertain what their motives are. Word was spread that one of these militia groups was headed towards Lankien, so a plane was called and the team left. The UN controls security here, so they have been gathering information on what is going on, and will send in a plane to talk to the authorities and see what is going on. We have heard from the authorities here, by radio, that the militia is in Lankien, but they are having talks, and the clinics are running well without us.

We anticipate seeing Lankien again this week, we'll see.

After the dust settled from the strike issue in Lankien, a decision to close the TFC (Therapeutic Feeding Centre) was made. Earlier, the management team was questioning if we were running ourselves too thin, by running a TFC, Kala Azar and TB clinics. The strike issue clarified it to everyone that we were doing too much, to do things right. So, it was decided to close the TFC and concentrate on the big ones, KA and TB.

A former PC (Project Coordinator), Dennis, is here in Wudier, and he had the most appropriate comment to this decision. It was roughly, "You can throw a dart at a map of South Sudan and hit a place with a real medical need 20 times out of 20. The question then becomes, 'what to do?' If you want to do it all, you'll die trying, then no one gets your help." A lot of valuable research and development comes out of Lankien. A lot of success has come in the roughest of environments. In the north, there are hospitals treating Kala Azar, where they can do blood transfusions and have far fancier facilities, yet we match their effectiveness.

Anyway, it must have been hard, but staff was dismissed and patients discharged back into the medical shadow that is their South Sudan.
------------

Here, the patient load is much slower than Lankien. For curiosity sake, we invited over for tea, the TBAs (traditional birthing assistants) to hear how they do it, and answer some other curiosities. That was interesting. DONT BE IN SOUTH SUDAN IF YOU THINK THERE IS A CHANCE YOU MAY HAVE TO GIVE BIRTH HERE!!! At the end, they had some medical questions, and wanted to refer a couple of people to the clinic for a look, and now the clinic is filled with everyone and their spouse and their STIs (AKA: STDs). Another example of just asking a question, then the floodgates of requests come it.

Our food situation is becoming the conversation topic every meal, if not, every 5 minutes. Usually there are only 2 people here, so having 4 was a little surprise to our stocks of canned foods. Plus, with the evacuation in Lankien, the flights have been changed so another 3 days were added onto this 12-day rotation (plus the regular rotation is usually only 10 days). Anyway, I have learned quite a few new recipes, including refining my chapatti rolling technique. (I am the holder of the last beer. The beer cans roll the chapatti better than any other can. For many nights the team has been trying to drink my chapatti roller!) We have been getting chickens every second night, and we are trying to negotiate the purchase of a small cow too. We are making due, but I feel a South Sudan Weight loss program starting (that's not so bad, I'm usually the fattest guy around anyway.) As for alcohol, all the other beers went pretty quickly, and the wine Dennis brought from Holland too. The staff here keep sneaking to our office these bottles of Ethiopian Ouzo, I never liked Ouzo, and here is no exception.

Well, that is a week in S Sudan. Tomorrow is Sunday, maybe a walk around town (I am trying to get someone to make me a pipe, similar to the ones the old ladies use) also a nice sleep in, and maybe some reading too. If it is sunny out, we will get a good charge on the battery and can have music for the day too.

Good night, lots of love,

Steve

P.S. Mom, or Jen, or any other cook out there: If you have any good simple recipes to do with flour, salt, sugar, (no yeast, no baking powder, no baking soda, etc) please let me know. Chapattis are great, once or twice a day, but not too much more... I'll be at this email address until the 19th, (hopefully not much longer.)

Message #13 November 20, 2003

Hi Dad.

Yes, I got your previous email; it was forwarded by someone in Kilo1.

Your email identifies a lot of questions I am asking too. Yes, what are people's motivations when working with us in Lankien. I started asking that sort of question a little more, instead of instinctively answering it, with my limited knowledge of Lankien. Here is a couple of things I heard.

Lankien didn't exist 15 years ago, as it is now. It is actually a mix of people from different clans, coming together because NGO's have been dropping food and aid there. There are 6 different chiefs there, 4 of which head 4 displaced clans. If you took any two people, chances are, they are not from the same clan, and therefore, they are not the same people. So, I think more people work for MSF (from Sudan) as a job, rather than other motivations that drive us (expats). As such, I think it is easier to walk out on a job, if it is just a job, and not walking out on your people (as we bitterly first felt they were doing.)

And it is a job. To most of our staff, this is the first job they have ever had. We pay them money, the local authorities take some, and there are hours for them to work, that sounds like a job to me. (Just like any Doctor or Nurse strike in Canada).

Your email also points something else out that I had to read a couple of times before I got, what I think you were saying.

"It must stimulate questions about the nature of giving and love, e.g. do these concepts have to have conditions attached, like gratitude? "

I think many of us expected that our nature of giving did have an attached assumption we would receive gratitude or at least reassurance that it is wanted, and when people walked out on us, that was stripped away. It points out to us, "is that a reasonable thing to want?" I think we were asking, "If they walk out, should we walk too?" One wants to feel like the work they do is wanted, and they are not just keeping themselves busy. Maybe the gratitude I receive just reassures me that the work I do is wanted, and therefore I continue. I would hate to go on a crusade of work on a project that no one really wants.

I read about an engineer who looked into the lives of some people in Sierra Leon, and of their hardship crossing a river. So, he decided to build a bridge for them. He found the funding, and spent some months building a beautiful bridge. The day after he built it, the locals torn it down. The next year, he visited the site, and was distraught that his bridge was destroyed. With renewed energy, he found more funding and explained to the locals how good the bridge would be, then he re-built it again with their assistance. Two days after he left, they destroyed it again. When he returned and questioned people what they were doing, they said they didn't want a bridge (the evil spirits couldn't cross the river, until the bridge was built), but he was so excited and happy about building it, they let him build it, and they just would destroy it once he left.

Anyway, I would not like to be doing something like that, and I think a show of gratitude may be my reassurance that people want us here. And if they don't, PLEASE LET US KNOW!

As for the question of eating frogs, I don't think they eat them here. There are so many, and so many people are hungry, I don't think they are good to eat. To give you an idea of how resource deprived they are... There are two main foods, maize and shorgum (if you have a job, sometimes you can buy some meat, but that is about once a month or less). With the maize, one can grind it and make a type of tortilla, or with more water, a thinner roti, or add more water and make a porridge. With the shorgum, same thing, a tortilla, roti, or porridge, but also they distill it to make a shorgum wine (it tastes pretty bad) or distill it further and make a shorgum spirit (it smells really bad, and I didn't taste it after that.) That is about it for the food. We pay labour partially in salt, and they add that anywhere they can, it is a delicacy.

This week here in Wudier, we bought a cow (our food supplies had almost run out), and we invited over all our staff and some local authorities (about 25 people in total). Everyone ate like it was the best meal of the month (or maybe even the year). I think if frogs legs were roughly edible, there would be no more frogs in Lankien. (The cats don't even eat them.)

David Miller as Mayor eh? How is he? Has he firmly placed his foot in his mouth like Mel so frequently did? (I liked Mel, he had an energy and honest ignorance I like in politicians. I don't know how he was as a mayor though.)

Bill Bell is still around, good to hear. I never met him, but I've always heard good things about him. (Mostly from you I think.)

Your books are ready. I would like to read the rest of the Metaphysics one. Is there a chance I can get one here for x-mas?

And Santa is bringing Mom a laptop, that's good. Is it still a Mac? Christina has a Mac laptop, and it is very slow. It shouldn't be, Macs should be faster, having two processors and all, (but then why aren't they selling better?)

Oh shoot, some donkeys are eating and knocking down our fence. (Shorgum fence, not just a good breakfast cereal, but also a good fence.)

Sorry to hear about Granddad’s hip. Please pass on my best to them.

Well Dad, thanks for the update on Toronto and the family. That news is the stuff I miss most. I'll be out in a couple of weeks (on R&R).
I'll be heading to Nairobi, then on to Mombassa for a break. Some other people are heading to Zanzibar, but the plane ticket there is a little much for a short R&R, so I'm going to take a train to the coast instead. I'll also try to give you and Mom a call once I get to Nairobi (around the 27th or 28th).

Looking back at this email, I don't know if you want to send it out or not. I'll leave it up to you.

Cheers, lots of love,
Steve

South Sudan Journal, Parts 10 & 11 (of 29)

stevedennis@egate.net (Steve Dennis) — Thu, 17 Nov 2005 02:41:00 +0000

Message #10 Sunday November 2, 2003

Hello Mom and Dad.

What a busy week. I think the week started a couple of weeks ago, but this morning, when the sun came up and there was nothing more to do, the week was finally declare, "over." It is Sunday, the day of rest, and rest we will have.

Besides last week, being busy with the work, on the weekend I did a medical storeroom (pharmacy) stock check with Helena (the Financial Coordinator, who regrettably asked, "so what do you do all day on a Saturday?") Since some stock numbers were off, and the two storekeepers could not account for the losses, we have taken control of the med store.
On that Saturday we were going to do a stock check, to see how far off the numbers were.

Stocks and the stock cards to account for them are a funny thing. There are math errors, there are writing errors, there are sometimes urgent needs and no time for paper, and there are thefts. We wanted to find out how much of each has happened, and also good stock management dictates a check every two months, doesn't hurt.

So, with eager hearts, we went to count, but first we re-organized the storeroom. After my experience in Sri Lanka, where we had very large pharmacies, I feel like I actually know how to organize a pharmacy, for efficiency of use, and accounting. So, the oral drugs here, the injectables there, the medical materials over there, slowly the pharmacy took shape, and started looking very good and organized.

The reason we were re-organizing it, (and good project continuity says "don't change a thing until you are there a month or two.") is that it was re-organized before, to try out another system, but that trial is over, and it didn't work.

In short, Saturday and Sunday, was spent investing in an organized stock, and counting it. What a pain, but it has already proven to have paid off. Time in there every day is less, and it just feels a lot nicer to work in.

The week started soon after that. Monday the usual onslaught of asking began. "Can I have one of these?" "Give me a bottle." "My boots are worn out..." I have been able to fend off most requests, except for with one person, Simon. Simon is a Community Health Worker working for us. Apparently, he is one of the better ones too. Simon has Polio, which has left him quite handicapped. His lower legs are very thin, too thin to walk on. As such, he gets around on his hands and knees. Simon has a three-wheeled chair, but it needed some work on it before it could work. In the heat of the asking for other things, Simon asked for some oil, just 20ml to put on the chain of his chair, so that he could get around.

There I was, handing out "No's" left and right, then his question. I dismissed the group around me, and asked Simon to come with me, so I could steal away a little oil without an audience to judge my actions. I pulled out a syringe and got 20mls for him. As I stepped out of the storeroom and handed him the oil, I looked up and saw the group had reassembled around me, and witnessed me handing out something, after judging their cases quickly, and judged negatively to everyone. Simon said thank you, and crawled away. The group came closer, and started with louder talking towards John, their English advocate. "You said you weren't giving anything out, and now you lied! Why wont you give us things? Why don't you like us? Why him and not us?"

I don't usually raise my voice. At that moment, things slowed down, an energy built from within my soul, and I paused. They stopped, and we looked at each other in silence. There was a forgien feeling building up, a storm brewing. I leaned forward, and slowly, softly told John, in answering, "why him and not us?" "You can walk, that's why." And I walked away and slowly let the storm settle. I don't like that feeling. There was no more talking from behind me.

A couple of days later, Simon's wheeled chair was working, and it was great to see him getting around in great style. When he came up to me, I was expecting him to say something relating to how the oil, and the tires we had given him, had helped him out, but instead he said, "I need some paint for my bike. Give me some paint!" I was a little confused, 'is this another want from the great MSF store-room?' I thought.

"I will have to check our stocks." I said, in hopes of slowing down a natural reaction to promising something.

"Red. I want red." He said as I thought about where the lines were drawn between want, need and what MSF's role in providing medical aid to these people covers. Does it cover red paint, or just oil? Where is black and white when all I see is the grey in between?

The following came to me then: 1) Whatever it is, it is never enough. This was true to my life back home, and it is true here as well. There is always something more wanted, and there is a risk of disappointment ("why don't you like me?") if it isn't given. 2) These are also just questions to the people with it all, MSF. There is no acknowledgement that everything in our stores is there for the project, and there is little, extra. Maybe a way of answering these questions is to express that these things are not extra. 3) I need a blanket, "No!" phrase. Something that could be used for anything, every time. And there my quest began.

The quest, or question, is, "What can one say, to inform people that the material and equipment under my control, cannot be given out freely, but has to follow the reason why MSF is here in Lankien."

Well, to summarize, the storekeepers answered that, when I asked them how they refused people in the community. (Assuming they did.) "I cannot give out MSF property." They say. And so, by mid-week, that was my catch phrase. "That is MSF property, I cannot give it out MSF property!"

That worked well, until Thursday.

Thursday was the first day of an initiative to start a training program again. The medical people were going to hold two teaching sessions in the afternoons, and they asked if I could do some Math lessons for the non-medical people. Sure thing, I know a little math.

So, Thursday I began a beginner math class. This was one of the hardest math classes I've taught. "How basic should I start?" I asked Hannah, the Doctor who had initiated the teaching sessions. "As basic as you can go." She advised.

Well, I guess that means with numbers. And so it began, "What is a number?..." What a class. It was only an hour, but in that time I was given a powerful lesson on education. BE NICE TO YOUR CHILDREN'S TEACHERS!

The class consisted of people that knew some numbers in English, (the Neur use English numbers when writing them, so at least that was easier) but I know enough numbers in Neur to do a bit in Neur too. Some people could write the numbers, and some people have never held a pencil before. I (despite my crusade to not start a flood of new asking) handed out 10 notepads to the first 10 people to attend. (We have a national staff-training budget, so I think that is okay.) The first half of the lesson was all about numbers, and what they meant. I think people were amazed and pleased that someone was explaining it to them. We even dipped a little into adding two numbers. (We may have to review that this week.)

We ended up with about 25 people. As I finished, I asked if people would want to continue next week, and I got a round of clapping. Success! I held an advanced math class for three of the staff (storekeeper, log assistant and site supervisor) because the better their math skills, the easier my job will be. After our first advanced math class, they too were very pleased, (even though I gave them a lot of homework too.)

The next time someone asked me for something, and I refused, I heard John explain something to him. I asked John what did he tell that person. John told me he said, "Steve likes us, because he is teaching us maths. He doesn't give us stuff, because it isn't his stuff to give. He does like us though." That seemed to work out well.

That was Friday.

Friday we also got a plane in, but without the staff salaries. The salary issue has become huge. The issue is as follows.

Sudan has a currency, the Dinar. The south, (the area I am working in, and the area that is fighting for their independence from the North) does not use the Dinar, for it is the "Money of the North." So, they want US dollars. In this land of different things, the common US Dollar isn't good enough, it must be the series of bills, with the larger head printed on it. These are known here as, "big headed US dollars." Small-headed ones won't do.

It is a problem to get these specific bills from the bank in Kenya, since that is a silly request to them. (Can you imagine? "May I please have 20 rolls of loonies, the ones with the parliament buildings, not the ones with the loons on it.") So, it takes longer to get the specific money up here.

In months past, the payments have been delayed a week or two. There was talk this week, that the money should be here, or there would be problems. Friday the money did not arrive, and Saturday, to our surprise, there was a general strike in the clinics.

We employ just over 100 people to do everything from injecting medicines, cooking the therapeutic foods, distributing the medicines, cleaning the compounds, supplying water to the clinics, guarding the compounds, etc etc etc. On Saturday, after some heavy discussions with our Project Coordinator and Head of Mission, work stopped and people walked out. Further, there was a demand to have the money there by Monday, or people would stay out. (We expressed how the next plane would be here Tuesday, and that we couldn't change, but we were talking to deaf ears.)

After the dust settled, there were about 450 hungry eyes looking towards us for an answer. In the TB clinic there was the weekly food distribution for 80 people. We used the patient's relatives to help us get the food over there, and the distribution went well. In Kala Azar, the medicines were handed out to the most severe cases, and the rest were to return Monday, once we had things under control and had a better plan. In the feeding centre, things were not so easy. There are approximately 140 hungry, actually starving, people that have 6 feedings through the day. So the rest of us got on the job. There was porridge to make, special milk to brew, and protein/energy bars to hand out. It was sloppy, maybe some would even consider it messy, but between the team, we seemed to replace a good portion of our 100 staff, and carry out the essential parts of the clinic.

Yesterday was difficult. The actual physical part was tiring, but not stressing. The stressing part was that our staff, consisting of people from the community, walked out on their mothers, fathers, sons, and daughters and we were left feeding them. At some points in the day, a general feeling was to say out loud, "sorry, we thought we could come here and help a few people live. In fact, you were asking for us to be here. We tried, we tried hard, but we can't do it, we can't save everyone, give out enough to satisfy everyone, AND pay people in bigheaded US dollars. We tried, we failed, we are going home! Good luck with it! But we didn't. Some of the patients and people here have become our mother, father, sons and daughters, and we will try harder before throwing in the towel.

As some of us were cooking with big 50 and 75 litre pots over fires, others were in meetings and discussions. The result is, the staff came back to work today. There is a big mess to sort out. A lot of hurt feelings and frustrations back and forth. A lot of the staff know it is not us, but MSF they are upset with. A lot of us realize that payment one or two weeks late, every month, wouldn't be accepted back home, so there are fewer bad feelings towards them too, today.

I think one of the best things that have come from this, are our team has solidified over this issue. "What do you need?" and "What can I do?" were common words yesterday, and that is just a great team to work with. Hannah, one of the doctors, has decided to extend her mission end from December till March. She says this is because of the great team here. I think she has a very good point.

So, today is Sunday, the holiest of days, the day of rest. In the afternoon I'll finish some reports and maybe place an order or two to fill up our ever-depleting stock; but that is later. Right now, the music is playing, the heat in the office is a little lower than the really hot outside, I have a large glass of water, full belly of food, and nothing that need my attention. Another day in paradise really.

That is all for now. Thank you for the letters I am receiving.

Lots of love,
Steve
Message #11 Wednesday, November 5, 2003

Hello Mom and Dad.

I'm in Wudier now with the BHCU team. Long story, to get from Sunday, labour disputes, to Wednesday small small village closer to the middle of no where; I'll try to get it all in this email.

The BHCU (Basic Health Care Unit) team, travels between three BHCU sites assisting national health care workers at the different sites. The team includes two nurses, Lief and Shibohn. (A third nurse, Dennis, has come in, he will replace Lief), and myself, for the next 10 days.

The actual sites are very limited in their resources. The purpose of these sites is to provide basic (very basic) health care to the communities, and to have a health outpost to observe trends and verify health conditions.

There is another Log, Charlie T, who usually goes to these sites with the team, to provide log assistance, (construction, supplies, etc), however Charlie T wanted to learn a little more about the supply chain system, so he has gone to Lankien for some time to get a handle on things there. There is talk that Charlie T may leave in December, possibly to another project, so it would be good for him to experience that other side of a project.

Further, if Charlie T was to go, I would be responsible for the logistics on these sites, and as such, I should know a little about them. So now was a good time (not the best time, but we are only shooting for good here) for Charlie to come in, and me to come out.

Tuesday we had a plane come in, and it was going to pick the BHCU team up from Magang and drop them off in Wudier, so I joined them.

My goodness. I thought Lankien was in the middle of nothing, then I got on a small plane, flew NNE for an hour, then landed in an even smaller community. In the pursuit of no-where, I think I am getting close!

Wudier (Lat: 9.5 degrees N, and Long: 33.6 degrees E) is closer to the Ethiopian border (approx 40 kms), near Daga Post and Longochok. It is also in a more fertile area. It is quite nice; there are large trees (including coconut trees) and just a more fertile smell about the place. (Not the dustbowl Lankien is becoming with the dry weather we are having there.)

The compound is extremely basic. There are two tukels, the office and the kitchen. There are two plastic sheeting enclosures, the latrine and the shower. There are some tables, for the solar panel, the hand washing basin, and a table for eating outside. There are two large trees to shade a large portion of the compound, and that is it. We are sleeping in tents.

The BHCU is also very... basic (don't let the name Bhcu, fool you.) There are two tukel there as well; one for out-patients (those patients that come to have something looked at, then get some advice, medicine, cleaning wounds, etc, then they leave) and one for in-patients (those patients that stay in the facility over-night.)

This morning we had a meeting with the 11 staff members to introduce Dennis and myself, and to say hello to everyone, since the team was away for a couple weeks since the last visit. Most of the staff spoke English, and they were very happy to have us there. In the facility, there are two trained health workers (trained on a 3 month course) and that is all the trained staff. It is nice to have expats come in, to consult on the different cases and do some added training.

After the meeting, the clinic began. People are treated for Kala Azar, sometimes TB, and then also a whole assortment of everything. There were approximately 20 people waiting outside for consultation. Plus, there were 5 people waiting for their daily (painful) injections for Kala Azar. Also, there were about 3 in-patients.

Most of the time, the clinic is fairly quiet, but in some busy times, more people are employed, and a clinic is run under a big tree out front.

This is really all there is to Wudier. It is a quiet quiet place, with some nice looking trees, beautiful sunsets, friendly people, and a small clinic. It is nice, and nice to be here.

Why it is nice to be here....

After the semi-slower day off, Sunday morning, the afternoon got busier. All the staff came back to work, and there was a clean up to do in the clinic. By Monday, things were working, but not great. Evert (our Project Coordinator) and Arjan (our Head of Mission) were in a 5 hour meeting with the local authorities, SRRC, who had been asked to mediate by the staff. The SRRC really laid into them for all sorts of reasons, like we were not training people well enough, not paying on time, not giving enough gum-boots, not this that and the other thing. It was hard to see that delivered to our team.

Fortunately, there is a cultural difference in the way these labour disputes are dealt with, and more fortunately, Arjan was aware of it, and helped us understand why this process was quite difficult to accept. It seems that this is the way it is done, voice all your complaints, and get it all out, agree or disagree with the other party, then it is over, not to be brought up again, despite the frustrated feelings the international team may still hold.

Tuesday we had some more meetings, and from all this meeting, there were commitments on both sides to move forward together. There is a lot of good in having MSF in Lankien, and we all agree to start there, and have that in mind when compromising and accepting. The meeting was drawn to an end as the Casa flew overhead, and off I went.
Yesterday afternoon was filled with setting up the compound (getting the electrical system wired-up, the tents up, etc) cooking up the goat meat we got from Loki that day, and enjoying the wine and cheese Dennis brought from Amsterdam, just for that moment. It was a little busy setting up, then dinner, then sleep by 2200, as usual.

Today, it hit me. I was up by 0630, as I have been these last few weeks, ready to go. My mind racing with details and solutions. I got up, thanked my maker for another wonderful sunrise, and then proceeded to make breakfast and tea. As I slowed down to sipping tea speed, I reviewed what I had to do today... nothing. Charlie had given me a small, small list to do, but it was all fancy stuff, that could wait, if I didn't have a moment to do it, in the 12 days I will spend here. I toured the clinic, then back by lunch, made that, ate that, then put my head down by 1300. I woke at nearly 1700. I was exhausted.

I think over the last few weeks, the constant go-go-go has worn on me a little, and it was only now, that I have very little to do, do I notice it, and my body is slowing down. It is nice to take this break, the last while has been tiring, and I will enjoy this time here.

Well, the sun is setting against the palm trees and tukel silhouettes. There are children playing down the paths, the team has found the beer, and distributed it, the day is over, and slowing down will take on new meaning for me.

Have a good night, lots of love.
Steve

South Sudan Journal, Parts 7, 8 & 9 (of 29)

stevedennis@egate.net (Steve Dennis) — Thu, 17 Nov 2005 02:40:00 +0000

Message #7 October 11, 2003

Hello Mom and Dad.

Today was a big day. The Buffalo couldn't come yesterday, but was able to come today after all. I think someone in Loki is cashing in some favours.

So, the day started at 0530. We have to give a confirmation that things are fine here, before the plane will leave. So, I woke up, got a lantern, found a guard to walk with me to the airstrip, and paced the strip one more time. It was still soft in parts, and hard in others, but to my (expert) opinion, it was land-able.

To my horror though, in the south there was lightening off in the distance, and a wind blowing from the southeast. After conferring with Sammy (the team leader, and the real airstrip expert) we asked Loki to send the plane, but quickly.

In the following 2 hours, I had an extreme interest in this storm, and it's path. Without the presence of anything taller than a hut (well, the occasional tree), the sky is pretty large. This storm got closer, and bigger, and whiter and darker, and it passed without visiting. At one point a small drizzle of rain started, but that stopped before long.

So, at 0820 I got a call that the plane was 15minutes away, and we headed to the airstrip. "We," included all the expat staff, and all the healthy relatives of the patients. Usually, it takes the better part of the day to unload 8000kgs and bring it 250m to the compound, so we even stopped the clinics, until the load was in the compound.

We gathered at the airstrip, eyes in the sky. This community depends on the airstrip, and they know what a rain can do to it. Then a guard pointed to the sky, and there it was, the Buffalo, the beast of burden. It did a fly-by, turned and landed. The landing was a little rough, and muddy, but these planes can stop in no distance, very impressive. Once it stopped and opened up, many people swarmed the plane, to unload it. Fun stuff, tons (8) of maize, unimix, and other specialty nutrition foods were pouring out of the plane, and I got to direct it, and get the right people to watch it. (Note on watching food coming off a plane. Our outreach team was evacuated today from Pultruk. WFP did a food drop there. There was something like 96,000 kg of maize dropped. A fight broke out between two people, then the community hit the drop zone, and half of that food was looted very quickly. This type of event can lead to violence, so the team was pulled out.)

Anyway, after it was all off the plane, and piled nicely at the side of the airstrip, the plane started up it's engines, and blew over all our nice piles. It was really something, many boxes were sent down the airstrip, and the piles of 50kg bags of maize (4 high) were knocked over. I was also standing there, and I felt like my skin was, "exfoliated" a little more than my liking.

Then came the fun part. The crowd around us, filled with curious people, opportunistic people, and helpful people too, were just waiting there. With the help of some others, we counted it all again, and decided to space ourselves around in the line from the strip to the compound (to limit losses), then I gave the word and the madness began. Some men, many women and many children grabbed what they could and started off to the compound. I will take a photo next time; it is impressive to see 50 people walking with all sorts of different sized things on their heads.

The most impressive part was after all the small things were taken, many 50kg maize bags remained. I was ready to take one, and it is harder than it sounds! However, when I was returning, I started seeing a stream of women (some weighing 50kgs) carrying these bags ON THEIR HEAD!!! I couldn't believe it. Not only were there women carrying 50kg on their heads, but also as hard as I tried, I couldn't get any men to carry them! Through the day, I heard the reason, it is women's work, and men mind the cows. Damn! Anyway, these women are incredible! 50kgs on their heads! Not by the strong one of the town, but by many of them!

Well, within an hour, it was all in the compound and I was pretty damn happy with myself, but happier with everyone else. Before I believed, "many hands make light work," but now, I will start preaching that. Less than one hour, 8,000kgs, 250m!

Well, that went well, and I think I got some good respect points by heaving the heavy ones too, and cheering on the ones beside me in my best Nuer. (Lim Lim, Lim Lim, and boom boom, boom boom, seem to work well.) There was a lull in the work after that, and being Saturday, I tried to have a lazy day. Actually, most positions have between 12:00 and 16:00 off, due to the sun; so that helps the lazy day work.

After lunch I had a rest and started thinking about the day, and about some of the differences... I can't believe where I am.

Imagine you get sick. After some days, it is unbearable, and you need to make that 1-25 day journey to the clinic where you heard there is medicine to help you. You get there and are admitted after some tests. You learn that it is Kala Azar, and you will need to stay in the clinic for the next 17-31 days. (You look over the fence and see the TB clinic, and count your blessings, because they stay for up to 7 months!) You receive a mosquito net, a cup and 0.5kgs of salt. If you are malnourished as well, you get a plate and spoon and a blanket right away (otherwise, you get a blanket after your friend/family member brings in a bundle of wood in as payment). Your group location is pointed out to you. This is the tukel, or space in front of it, where you will get examined and receive your shots and milk (don't lose the cup!) once a day. There are no private sleeping rooms, or dorm rooms for that matter. There is some space on the ground between the group tukels, and there are some shelter tents that can hold about 15 mosquito nets worth of people. Your privacy was left at the door. You even get a wrist band to identify yourself as a patient, and the guard with the stick will let you in, should you walk outside for a while.

So, there you are, one of 250 Kala Azar patients, 'sleeping under the stars,' in an MSF clinic in South Sudan. There isn't just one child crying through the night, there are many. In your sights are the different clinic tukels, there is a fenced off area, called the TFC (Therapeutic Feeding Centre), there is a tukel called "special care" where more people are carried out (one or two a day), than walk out, there is a disgusting area in the back, called the "latrines" where you are told to crap in a hole and there are these white folks (fat as legends!) walking off to a corner behind a fence where lots of boxes labeled, "expat food," go.

You start to get a little hungry. But the hospital food here isn't that great. Once a week, each patient receives 4 kg of maize, 0.5kgs of lentils, 0.5 kg of unimix (high protein powder), 0.25litres of corn oil, and a bar of soap. (You got the salt on admission, remember.) The people in TFC get daily food, until they are bigger, but still malnourished by Canadian standards. Over the past few weeks, there has been lots of rain, and as such, stocks ran low, and the maize and unimix were cut from your rations. Life is rough, and luck is not always with you.

One morning, the clinics are closed, and there is a bunch of excitement around the place. Some strong words of encouragement are being shouted, and crowds of people form in the wake of the vocal authorities. A plane flies over, and it is clear what is going on, food has arrived and help is needed to bring it to the clinic. And those that can, get up and walk to the plane and carry what they can. (Except for a lot of the men! Those lazy bastards!)

Besides the 250 in Kala Azar, there are 68 in the TB clinic and another 130 in the TFC. For those 450 people, there are two doctors (right now just one though), two nurses and a bunch of other health workers. Unless you are dying, you don't get a daily 30minutes with "your" doctor.

It is a professional operation going on here, with measurable significant impacts on the quality of healthcare in this area, as well as important work in preventing large epidemics. However the biggest impact for me is a personal one. What greater differences can there be, than the black and white contrast of this health care system, and the one back home in Canada? I'm glad to see the public push for improvements to the health system, but I also find little weight behind statements like, "our health system is in the gutter." The biggest impact for me in doing this work is the realizations I have (daily) of how fortunate I am. I am glad to be able to share that with you, and I am happy that many of you are enjoying it too.

Well, the night is quiet today. I'm a little tired from a big day, so I'll say goodnight.

Cheers,

Steve

Message #8 October 19, 2003

Hello Mom and Dad and all.

Things are going well here, still getting into things. Tonight’s insight is into touching things. I don’t mean physically, I mean observing the consequences of a single action, and it’s ripples. A couple of things have happened that I find incredible how related it all is. Enough preamble.

A week ago, or so, I was in ‘special care’ talking to Lindsay the Nurse there. Special care is the tukel for the most sever patients with Kala Azar or mal-nourishment. 1 to 2 people die there a day. It isn’t a pleasant place. Lindsay told me she was just changing a dressing on a patient, when a clump of dirt fell into the wound. That sort of thing happens when your ICU is in a mud tukel where the roof is slowly being eaten by termites, and the result is little bits of roof, and termite waste fall down. Anyway, she asked for something to help out, and we agreed some cotton cloth nailed to the roof would help a little. We had the cloth, it was a technology implemented elsewhere in the clinic, (mostly the office and kitchen), and we had the cotton, so why not? (What an infinitely valuable question!)

Within a couple of days, the special care tukel was emptied, and the roof was being lined with cotton cloth. After two days, 20 bars of soap and 20 bags (500g) of salt labour payment, the special care tukel was (mostly) dirt free. The very next day, one of the milk ladies from the TB clinic came with a translator to demand that cotton cloth be put into her tukel. It seems that her, and many others, are unsure how they ever worked before with such an unacceptable work condition, and cotton cloth should be put in all the tukels.

Similarly, we provide uniforms to our staff when they are hired. After the uniforms rip, tear, wear, etc, it is an expectation that they are replaced. We are calling it, raising the bar. Last year, the TFC (therapeutic feeding centre) was only in tents, no tukels. Now, after much building by my predecessor, there are many tukels for all the phases of the TFC, except one. The TFC has grown considerably, and as such, we made another group recently and only had a tent for them. In the mid-day sun it is hotter in there than the other tukels, and the team almost refused to work there. It was agreed that the whole TFC was better off than before, but the issue was, they were the only one’s without a tent.

Similarly, people want the broken items like locks, buckets, jerry cans, etc. But even if I say, “if I give you one, I will have to give everyone one,” and refuse, the waves of people still come on. It is tricky when it comes to things that we need people to have, and cannot regulate. Guards need flashlights, but you cannot regulate if they are using the batteries for their radios, or not. Log laborers need matches for the burning of waste, so they are seen as receiving matches, but then others ask for matches and are refused.

Anyway, I feel it is like trying to place some food coloring dye at the bottom of a bucket full of water, without coloring the water; you make one mistake, and you’ve tainted things for a long time. It is tricky, when I would love to give these people fancy things, like a pack of matches (every month) or maybe a new pair of gumboots, but the ultimate question that limits our spending, is, “does that add to the medical intervention we are doing here?” Many times the answer is yes, but sometimes it is, “no, but it is a damn good cause anyway!”

Example damn good causes: there is a little boy, Peter, suffering from some sort of skin disease. It covers his body with puss-filled sores, and it won’t get better with our program, (we treat Kala Azar TB and malnourished people). CMA, the medical NGO across the way, treats everything else, but they don’t have the capacity to treat him. With some misplaced medications, we could treat him, and take his standard of life, up a considerable notch. Do we do it? Tricky stuff to sleep on in the evenings.

There are many questions like this that come up with regards to EVERYTHING here. The boots that we gave to a staff member for their work were stolen, do we replace them; the uniform that was stained so badly with blood it wasn’t dark green anymore, do we replace that and what about all the uniforms that were stained, but to a lesser extent; do we give a cup of kerosene to a guard knowing he will use part of it to light his own tukel at night, etc

The thing about all these questions that I question even more, is, “are we raising the bar and creating more problems for ourselves and those we serve here?” Really, that is it. I see the more I have, the more my goals and desires are expanding, and similarly here too; the more we give out, the more is expected of us.

This place is pristine in some many ways. Nothing from here pollutes the environment (except for all the fires they have), but there are no plastics, wrappers, oil spills, cans, glass bottles, one-time-use bags, etc, only what was flown in by us. The ladies don’t cry out in pain during birth, (sympathy doesn’t exist here.) Sharing is quite common I find too.

But I see what we are doing here may impact that. People we employ here have never worked in their lives before, for someone else. To instill in them views that your family/cows/leaking home/etc have to wait, it is 0800 and you have to be at work now, is a foreign concept, (pushed by… foreigners of course.) We give them cloths of such quality that they have never seen before, as if it grew on a tree, or picked from the sky; and boots too. Then we refuse them for a request of similar magnitude, can I have a pen? Then they are naturally disappointed by the refusal. Did we teach them the feeling of being disappointed? What about desire, did we develop that feeling, and what about jealousy and envy?

Well, there is good to what we do, I’m just exercising my ability to pick up the negative parts of the things I’ve noticed here. We do have in our care around 450 people, all sick of diseases that will kill them. Most of those people survive because of the work that we do. So, despite all the other questions I have at night, I do manage to sleep.

So, that is the extent of my philosophical inner dialogue right now. Charlie is in the kitchen cooking up the loudest of our chickens tonight along with some Ojalee (Kenyan starch of choice). The sounds of Chicane, (recorded and produced in the same world this laptop comes from, but definitely not this world) are playing in my ears. And some of the medical staff are doing statistics on the patient records (for predicting what is going to happen next, but also reporting back to the donors that fund us.) It is a Wednesday night, and all is as it should be.

Have a good night, love,

Steve

P.S. I forgot to mention, food has finally come from WFP! On the morning that we were expecting a small plane (caravan) with some more expats, a buffalo arrived. I was standing there with the log from CMA, and we were both saying, “no, that’s not mine, it must be yours.” Well, it stopped, turned around, and opened the back door. The pilot mouthed, “MSF HOLLAND!” and guess what, we had 8000kgs of maize, and a plane that wanted to get going back to Loki ASAP! I love surprises! Well, it worked out again, but again, these men are very lazy, and would not help carry anything to the compound, again it was all the women from the clinics, carrying 50kg bags on their heads! Impressive.

Message #9 Sunday October 19, 2003

Hello Mom and Dad.

Well, never a dull moment here.

It is Sunday afternoon, the lazy part of the week. Everyone is writing reports, sitting in hammocks, listening to music, or enjoying just one more cup of tea. Just 5 minutes ago, as I was sitting down to write, and there was some shouting outside the compound. It was some women, maybe 50 women in total, celebrating the election of another 2 people for a women’s collective. It apparently is a newer thing here, organizing women together; but based on the excitement of the group, it is well received. This organizing will be a parallel to the organization of the clans and sub-clans. If women have concerns, they will no longer need a man (husband or family member) to voice them, but rather through their ranks the concern will be raised higher and higher, and finally from their leader to the Chief.

I wonder if this celebration is what it was like in North America in monumental times of women’s rights. Did our Mothers and Aunts lift up their newly elected leaders on their shoulders, cry out in excitement, sing at the top of their lungs at their achievement so far, and of optimism of times to come? What hardships and victories are there in the future for this collective? Did a gender revolution (peacefully) just arrive here? Didn’t they hear the news before? (Oops, forgot, no TV.)

Today I had a very pleasant talk with Francis, our Sudanese Senor medical staff member. Francis is from Western Upper Nile, a little to the west of us. He has been working with MSF for quite some time now, and lives in the compound with us. It is a pleasure to have him here; his input is infinitely greater than any of ours, when dealing with issues related to the community, population, or other cultural issues. Today we talked more about marriage, customs and traditions.

It started when the daughter of our cleaning lady (the one that left on a plane halfway through doing the laundry) came in to do the work of her mother. (It is common, in the labour positions, that if you are sick someone from your family comes to do your duties while you are away.) We talked about how she was pregnant, but not married. “How can this happen Francis?” I inquired. Our talk followed roughly as such.

Fr: “If a man takes a woman, but doesn’t have the cows to pay for a marriage, or does not want to marry, the family takes the woman back. When the child is older, 1 or 2 years and a boy, the father can take the child and raise him, otherwise the uncle (mother’s brother) will raise the boy. There will be some payment (in cows) to the family of the mother, since she is not as wanted, but she can marry another man.”

SD: “What happens if the man dies before he takes the child?”
Fr: “He doesn’t have to pay cows.”

SD: “Is divorce acceptable here?”
Fr: “A man can divorce a woman, or a woman can divorce a man. If a man is beating a woman, she can ask for a divorce. First, she would go to his family, second, she would go to her family, and after that if it is not resolved, she would go to the ‘head man’ and a court would decide. It depends on the reason for why he beats her. If she is not feeding the children, it is one thing, but if it is because he is drinking, that is not allowed.”

SD: “Who is the ‘head man’ and how are the clans organized?
Fr: “In charge of the Clan, is a Chief. Depending on the size of the clan, there are sometimes 3 or 4 sub-Chiefs. Under the ‘Sub-Chiefs’ there are 3 or 4 ‘Head Men’. Under the ‘Head Men’ there are people like policemen that will carry out tasks, like bringing someone to the Chief, or passing messages.”

SD: “Are there taxes?”
Fr: “Sometimes, 2 or 3 times a year, the SPLA asks the Chief for some food, (goats or cows) the amount depending on the amount of people there. The Chief divides that amount among the Sub-Chiefs, and they divide it among the Head Men. Then the Head Men sit with their community and decide who will give what. At that level, there will be 2 or 3 cows, and it will be decided who can give what.”

SD: “Are people ever over taxed?”
Fr: “Explain please.”

SD: “Does the SPLA ever ask for more than the people can give?”
Fr: “Everyone knows how many cows people have. You can’t ask for more than people have. Plus, most of the time, the soldiers are part of the community, and sometimes a cow that is given to someone may have come from their father.”

SD: “Tell me about the scarring on people’s faces.”
Fr: “It is decoration.”

The scarring I am referring to is the decorative scar tissue that is found on most (but not all) people’s faces here. On the men, there are horizontal lines cut across their foreheads usually from above their ear on one side, across the front and to above the other ear. On the females, their faces are usually decorated with little spots in very beautiful patterns, accenting the corners of the eyes, circling the cheeks, or lining the lips. It is quite beautiful.

SD: “How old are people when they get the scars? How old were you?”
Fr: “It varies. I was 17 years old when I got mine.”

SD: “Did it hurt?”
Fr: “It is really quite painful, they are cutting those lines!”

SD: “And the patterns?”
Fr: “It changes from area to area, you can tell if someone isn’t from around your area.”

SD’s inner dialogue: “Like it is written on their forehead.”
Fr: “That is the reason some of the young people aren’t doing it anymore. With the war, lots of people are moving around, and traditions are being lost. If you go to the city (Khartoum) people will know you are not from there, and they may fight with you. If you go to another village, people may also fight with you, if you have different markings.”

Francis is a very calm collected man. His family is staying in a refugee camp across the border in Kenya. He has some medical training, and has worked with ICRC before MSF. His Mother and a Sister live in Western Upper Nile (WUN), but there will have to be peace before he can return there. The Government of Sudan (GoS) holds his town, and as such, men cannot walk freely there, without being thought of as a spy, and killed. He has been able to send messages to his Mother, but not seen her for quite some time. He used to own many cows and goats, but with the war, they were taken. He told me with the peace, he hopes to bring his family back to WUN to be with his Mother and Sister. If peace holds for some time, he will again buy cows and maybe start growing crops again.

So, the weekend (Sunday) is here. It is 1500, the morning slipped into afternoon without anyone noticing. Another busy week will be here before long. I anticipate this week on being my busiest yet. Last week, some medicines went missing again. We have two storekeepers, and as such could not isolate blame. As such, the medical store and pharmacy is now under my supervision. The time allowed to do things in the day, just reduced a little.

Running the pharmacy is pretty easy, just a little legwork. 4-5 times in the day someone brings a request to me for some medicines. I get them, sign them out and get back to my work. Since I am also in charge of ordering that stuff (around 200 different medical items) it is a good chance for me to learn what all that stuff is.

Another problem with the storekeepers is their math, and initiative; they are both pretty low. I have been on them quite a bit in the last two weeks about actually counting the stock when they do “Stock Checks”, about questioning their calculators when 1000 minus 10 gives them 9990, and when they notice stock losses, to alert me so we can find the problems. I think this issue (poor storekeepers) was in mind when people were telling me, “don’t get frustrated at the level of education, initiative, etc here.”

Also, on Saturday, John, my assistant who runs EVERYTHING, came to me when I was in the pharmacy. (Note on John: In the mornings we talk briefly on what the log labour staff should do, what water ladies are out sick (due to whatever reason) and to approve replacing them, what guards have what complaints, what wheelbarrows are missing, etc. John does everything!) So he came to see me, and he wasn’t looking too good. He told me he wasn’t feeling too good, and I asked him what else there was for him to do for the day, there wasn’t much that couldn’t wait, so we talked of him going home at that time. He mentioned he had a fever, so we grabbed a thermometer and tried his temperature; it was high. He started slumping down and down and looking less steady and shaking a little. We decided to find a medical person and sort it out. Fortunately, when one of our staff are sick, we can use the ‘back-door’ approach, and see someone right away. Lindsay became free enough to give a little look, suggested malaria and give him the test; she was right. Damn, John has malaria. Malaria is one of those tropical diseases that can last three days, or can kill you. Depending on when you start taking medication, (and depending on some other things that I don’t know about just yet, as I am still not a Doctor.) John came back in the afternoon, looking surprisingly better, so hopefully he will only need a week or so.

A week or so, without John, or the storekeepers running the pharmacy sounds like a busy time. It will be an excellent opportunity to exercise my delegation muscles, and watch out for not taking too much on myself that should be shared with others instead. I will be looking to see who steps up to the challenges, ‘a lack of John,’ brings, and maybe there will be promotions afterwards. We’ll see.

One thing is for sure, there is never a dull moment here… yet.

(It is a couple of hours since the mob of singing dancing ladies moved on, now the grunts and groaning of 40 odd cows passing by is filling the air. That sound is nothing I would call pleasant, and in fact it is a little unsettling when a loud one cries out. Good thing for volume control on my portable CD player. Sundays are the only time I really feel comfortable enough to take this CD player out of my hiding place in my tukel. On Sundays, the compound is not filled with other people, so I don’t have to explain how the musicians fit into my headset, or raise desires for my possessions. Speaking of music. THANK YOU to all the musicians out there, your service to humankind (and my life) is huge. Whether it is the distant drumming of the churches here, or the music I have brought with me, it is very nice to have, and also essential to my nightly (and Sunday) escape from South Sudan.)

One last thought, and question. We have been discussing, and not solving, the issue of having a national staff member in charge of the medical storeroom. The question is, “Are we providing too much temptation to leave that amount of stock in the control of a national staff member?” To give you an idea of size, let’s use money as the unit of measure. The two things that are most important to the debate, are: 1) the med store has about $30,000 of medical supplies in it. 2) the average salary for a storekeeper is about $45 a month.

Simple math tells us, $45/mth = $540/year = approximately $30,000 in 55 years or one lifetime’s salary, just sitting there. Now putting that into Toronto terms, would I be able to hold steady against temptation if more than $2million dollars were under my supervision? What if my children started to get hungry in tough times, or my house was knocked over in the last storm and I needed to build again? What if my son was crippled and wanted a wheelchair to get around? I think one of the storekeepers did take the vials of medicine, but no one here blames him one bit.

Another frustration that has hit me is the asking for things here. “Can I have a pen?” (Asked by Simon, a schoolboy that I’ve grown to appreciate. Every time I see him out of the compound, he shows me his recent math test, and I give him a couple of math problems for next time. He wants a pen.) From an older medical staff member, “You are like my son. I am cold at night. Please my son, can you give your father a blanket to keep him warm at night.” “Can I have an empty pop bottle for carrying water?” “Can I have a paper so I can practice writing?” “My tukel is open all day when I am here. People can steal my things, can I please have a lock?” “Can I have some oil, so I can oil my wheelchair?” “Can I have some matches?” We have a policy here: don’t give anything. I agree with it, for the two times I have stepped outside the guidance of that policy, I have unleashed a flood of wishes, and reference to the two times I folded to the pressure. But damn it is hard to resist. I did sneak some oil to the staff member with the wheelchair that had a fused chain, but even that was very risky. I want to buy everyone in the community a pen, but what fighting will that start. (The team in Pultruk was pulled out after some fighting started when WFP dropped some food last week.)

There are frustrations popping up left and right all over here, but there is nothing to blame, no focus to direct unpleasant thoughts towards. As a friend simply pointed out to me a few years ago, and it has been making more sense ever since, “It is what it is.” It is South Sudan, nothing more or less, no right or wrong, it is just South Sudan the way it is. Maybe not the way it always was, but the way it is now, and that’s all that matters; “it is what it is.” (Thank you Heather.)

Well, time to go, hope all is well at home, lots of love,

Steve

P.S. It is still hot and humid, but the mosquitoes are less and less at night. Soon we will be eating outside at night; that will be nice.

South Sudan Journal, Parts 5 & 6 (of 29)

stevedennis@egate.net (Steve Dennis) — Thu, 17 Nov 2005 02:39:00 +0000

Message # 5 October 7, 2003

Hello Mom and Dad

Getting on the computer is still a problem, but fortunately I have a couple more minutes. I am borrowing a part from another email, describing my day.

Today, Karline left for Loki, the logistics handed over finally to me. She has done a great job here, and things are in great shape for me to continue them. Having 10 days for the handover was good, but near the end I was consulting her on even the most trivial questions. (Sort of like how one's mental math level deteriorates when a calculator is on the table.) But, the plane left, and so did the source of answers for all my questions.

It isn't that bad, I do feel confident in being able to handle the things that come up. Fortunately for me, that doesn't mean doing it all alone, but I also have a great team to consult, if need be.

So today, many things came up; decisions to be made that were not just new problems that I haven't seen before, as happens in Canada (what I was used to), but some of these were on a very different level.

The big things that came up today were staffing issues. One labourer came up to me with his supervisor (and translator) John. "His sister died, he needs some time off." "Didn't his sister just die last week?" "No that was his brother, his sister just died now and his father needs help with the cows, so he needs some time." Gulp, "How many days does he need?"...

A little while later in the day John came back, "Steve, the water lady who had the sick child needs some time off." Gulp. "How are things?" "The baby died." "How much time should we give her?" "I think 6 days is good." "Okay, arrange it"...

Later I found John holding down a lady outside the lab. She was getting a Kala Azar test done (a little painful). Afterwards I asked if he knew her, he did, she was a relative. I was getting ready for him to ask for time off to help her, but it never came.

One more thing happened, that was actually quite funny. A plane came by; it was ICRC (International Committee of the Red Cross.) They get calls from NGO's (like us) across South Sudan with requests to pick up patients to fly to their field hospital in North Kenya (Loki). Anyway, they landed because there was someone to pick up here. When that happens, everyone with any injury comes to the airstrip to see if they can get a "green light" from the airplane nurse, and get to the hospital. Since the plane wasn't the one I was expecting, I went back to work and didn't go see it. After it left, someone mentioned, "what are you going to do about the laundry." Before I answered, I saw the pile of half finished laundry, I saw where the laundry lady usually sits, a plane taking off, and pondered if they were related. He informed me, the laundry lady had been trying to get on that plane for a while, with her sick child, and today they got a "green light" and were off.

How can I begin to understand, and how can I be upset at someone for something like that. The "green lights" are taken more these days, since the cease-fire has freed up the time of a lot of surgeons, and as such they lossen up their limitations of what a "green light" is. These people are thrown in the back of the plane, (like a Mexican family in the back of an overcrowded pick-up truck,) given a bucket, because most of them throw up, and then sent on a roller coaster of their life. This world is truly a different place. Then, in the stillness of the night, a dull, almost invisible sound is heard in the far distant sky. It is a airliner, cruising at 10,000 meters above us. On board, there are cold beers being served and a movie being played. Further, there is a crew of attendants pacing the aisles, "would you like another blanket?" "An after dinner drink?" "Was your food not hot enough?" "You have a headache, that's not right, I will rush to get you an aspirin."

Well, just over the last 20 minutes the sky was taken over by clouds, and the winds picked up to a good blow. Dust was flying, and plastic sheeting was catching the wind from the peaks of the buildings. A storm has come. The sky opened up and the rain is falling. Tomorrow the airstrip won't be landable, fortunately for Karline, she got out today. Otherwise the next plane to come here is on the 13th. The wind is picking up a little now; I'm starting to pay more attention to it, to see what this compound can handle, (sort of like taking a new vessel out to sea for a shakedown.) Already some branches have come off the trees, and things blowing around, but nothing big. I am in the office, and closed in for a while to wait this out. (Even though I need a shower; I think it would be better to wait till it slows.)

(What a relief, the heat has really been something today. Now it is cooler, and quite pleasant.)

Back home, there is a romantic, curious, fascination with storms. I have found however that when the integrity of a shelter, vessel, or equipment is at risk, my attention to the noises and other signs heightens, significantly.

Funny that the same concepts of structure and weather barriers I was dealing with at Halsall (applied to technically advanced buildings) hold the same weight to these tukels, made of mud, and sticks tied together by grass, and covered in grass. The first leaks are starting to come through now. I just moved one of the tables out of the way. Glad I'm in the office, our sat-phone was just under that leak. Oops. Some more are coming in at another corner, but nothing under that, so I can continue this commentary. We are going to renovate this office soon, but maybe very soon will be a better plan. Its roof is about a year old, and that is the expected lifespan of this type of grass. (In Sri Lanka, we could get about 1.5 years out of the woven palm leaves.)

Another leak now above the door. That one is running down the wall a little too, and taking some mud with it. Fortunately for only 1kg of salt and 2 bars of soap, we can hire a lady to work for a day re-mudding some of the damage done tonight.
Okay, just moved the desk out a little more, that leak is spreading. But, to my... delight, this problem is a little more complicated, there is a leak in the middle of the tukel too. I think I will stay here for a while and ensure our computer, and communication equipment is okay through the night.

Ann and Joan (doctor and nurse) just came back from the clinic, they are drenched and full of mud. The clinic isn't too well off. The shelter we have for the patients isn't too good, and their belongings aren't too plentiful. Apparently they are all huddled under the large tents we have, and other tukels in the clinics. I would like to go there and see what is needed, but I am a little worried about the leaks here. We have some plastic I can pull over this tukel, if needed, but that would be a messy operation, to say the least.

Okay, the high winds are dying down, and the rain has steadied out, but still comes on. The lightning and thunder still plays, but not as loud. I think the storm is over.

Wow, that is interesting, a loud plop drew my attention to a pile of mud growing in height in the corner, and an equally sized hole forming in the wall above it. So, first we re-roof, then we'll re-mud that up real nice again. Some noises at the door, and when I opened it, two wet cats, and about 10 frogs jumped in. Note: There are a lot of frogs here. They come out at night, and I guess they don't taste so good, because this starving population does not eat them.

Well, the rains slowing now, this portion of the storm over. I will leave things as they are, but wrap things with a healthy amount of plastic before going to bed.

Also, another note on the projects. With all this rain, our maize stocks have been low. WFP (World Food Program) has been trying to drop food here, but the drop zone is flooded (and this rain isn't helping!) As such, we can go for another week, with giving out our regular portions, then we will be out. The guys down in Loki are trying to arrange getting another flight for us this week, but the planes are all booked pretty tight. WFP has a plane that can land on our airstrip, but it too is booked solid, and now our airstrip is unlandable.

Tomorrow is a food distribution to the Kala Azar and Feeding Centre patients. Our plan if the food cannot come, is to cut back on the KA patients. This would extend our other rations for the feeding centre and TB (tuberculosis) patients another week, or so.

When sailing, I saw the fruitless worth in damning the weather, but never like this. Tomorrow, we will probably all agree that a plane coming this week is unlikely, and as such the weekly 4kg of maize (the majority of a week's food to these people) is cut for the ~250 KA patients. What to do? In a fit of righteousness, one could raid our food store full of cans. With that one month supply, for 8 people, we could feed the clinic (of ~500) for... one meal.

This shortage has come after all the stocks delivered before the rainy season, have emptied. This shortage was anticipated, but not to this extent. (Last year at this time, the land was dusty and dry, and the cows were already making the journey to the river for the dry season grazing.) This isn't any one person's fault, it is nature just doing its thing. Emotionally it feels good to raise a fist to the air and let out a few well-chosen words to the powers that be, but there are better things to do.

Well, I should go to bed. It is 2300, and I have a feeling tomorrow will be full of repair work, as well as planning for the next rain.

Goodnight,

Steve

P.S. Christina, hier regnet es gerade in Stroemen! Tschüss.

Message #6 October 9, 2003

Hello Mom and Dad, thanks for the email.

It is good to hear that more and more people are enjoying these emails. Unfortunately if I ever do write a book about some of these things, I am afraid none of you will buy it, since it will be old news.

Also, I am glad you are censoring things if you read these to your class Mom. That may save you a bunch of time trying to explain how it is common to have 2-5 wives in some countries and not give a learning 12-year-old kid with a good memory, any ideas.

Carol-Ann: "I realize that it is very hot and now very wet in Sudan. How are your clothes holding out?"

They are all right, but there are some reports of missing clothing from the expats. I understand completely that the cleaners may want to take some things home, and not return them. There is opportunity in their face a lot of the day. Part of my job is to regulate the stocks, enough so that it appears that it is not worth it to steal anything. I say, "appears" because we go through about 300 different items, weighing about 20,000kgs, a month, and I am not counting it all. But I think I have the confidence of the
storekeepers that I am counting it all, since I have caught a few timely errors. With the laundry, there was a large box of laundry that was not emptied completely everyday. After a few months, it was pretty full, and I bet then some things went missing. So, I have cleared out the box, and now there is a small one, with very few things in it. Also, all the unclaimed laundry is serving as a nice source of clothing for the odd cases here and there. There is a kid with a very bad skin infection, but he has a tight T-shirt that he wants to put on, to hide a lot of the infected area. But it is a painful thing to put on. So, there was a nice T-shirt, unclaimed by the team that fit him superbly. Another satisfied customer! And hopefully less temptation for the staff to steal.

With regards to my clothes, they are wearing a little more than Sri Lanka. Here there is a lot more "hands on" work, and a lot less (actually no) problem with me getting my hands dirty. In Sri Lanka, the caste system declared it rude to allow me to do some types of work (labour). Here, there is no formal caste system (let alone other complex systems or traditions) so it is only natural that since I have two hands, I also carry/lift/push/pull with everyone else. It is quite nice like that.

Also, I remember we talked about how many clothes I brought here. It was a short list, but I shortened it again. I have with me in the project, two pairs of pants, 5 t-shirts, one long sleeve shirt, a couple sarongs, lots of underwear (my luxury item!) two pairs of sandals and a pair of shoes. It works quite well. Anyway, the running joke is that no one takes their clothes home with them. I think that is true for me too.

Carol-Ann: “Any suggestions for Xmas or things you need or may like us to send you?”
PLEASE SEND ME SOME COLD! A nice big bottle of something cold! Besides that, I can't think of anything so sweet. As always, news from home is very nice, and the biggest thing I miss. Also, I have had some fun with that little trick, sliding half my thumb off. The kids love it, and every time I am out of the compound, and most times I am in the clinic, people are pulling my thumbs trying to take it off. It is very funny. I would like to learn some other tricks like that, that do not require any props. Those little magic books you sent me in Sri Lanka were good, but they are in Canada. Anyone know any tricks I can try? Also, I want to try to make something out of little paper wrappers (from our high calorie food distributions.) The wrappers are littering the paths, and if there is a trick that catches a kid's mind, the paths will be picked clean. Anyone have any ideas?

Carol-Ann: “Are you basically wearing those MSF t-shirts and pants that you planned?”

Yup. Unfortunately the MSF shirts are a little thick, but I think with the washing they will get thinner.

Carol-Ann: “We have a National Geographic map of Northeastern Africa above our computer and cannot find Lankien. Peter has put a pushpin just below Malakal... I'm not sure if he knows something I don't. Please give us instructions so the push pin could be placed a little more accurately on this map.”

It is approximately 110kms south (bearing 075) of Malakal, or approximately (Lat: 08.5 degrees N, Long: 32 degrees E) Roughly, that is 120 kms west of where the west most point of Ethiopia hits Sudan. Psycologically, though, if you find a space with nothing in it, surrounded by more nothing, look to the left, there is a water pump (that is downtown Lankien) and the main clinic is slightly to the north, a little past the clinic, and you are back into nothing. If you take a plane, really you can blink and miss it.

Thank you for the health warning too Mom. It is a good point, and it is also stressed here too, that health is the most important thing. If someone falls a little ill, they are taken out to Loki to rest and get better, usually without any consideration of personal preference. Fortunately, I have been very healthy so far. I do have in me every vaccine available, but still, I have not even had... traveler’s 'illness'. Also, with this heat and humidity, sweat stays present long enough for me to do the math. (Steve's mass - lots of sweat = Steve doing an impersonation of a raisin.) And as such, I am drinking enough water to flush my system quite nicely and stay full. It is a lot of water though. Quite often I feel a little thirsty and down a litre of water in a few gulps, without it seeming odd.

Carol-Ann: “I'm sure you have many challenges with trying to keep the laborers, food,
airstrip, etc.”

Yes, that is the problem of the day. With that heavy rain earlier this week, the airstrip is, "unlandable" and the WFP drop area is a swamp. The guys in Loki are trying like mad to get a buffalo (the largest plane that can land here) in, but they are very expensive, and highly desired. They got one lined up for tomorrow, but the strip is still wet. I have been
walking it in the mornings and evenings (for a few days now) but the evenings have always brought big clouds, and sometimes some rain too. Sammy, (the team leader, who has been here for years) has been good with discussing this issue. We both agree that if it continues to dry as it has, Saturday it would be ready for the plane. Unfortunately, the plane isn't available on Saturday, it is available on Friday afternoon, or in a week. Wow, it really is that simple, yes or no. We will walk the strip tomorrow lots, and try our best to be unbiased when we call it, "landable" or "unlandable" and own up to the consequences if we are wrong. Saturday is when we have another food distribution to the patients that we will miss if we call it unlandable, and Buffalos are expensive planes if we call it land able and are wrong. We have all the facts, (bits of mud, more wet in areas, and dryer in others) and we do a little figuring, one heavy airplane coming pretty fast, landing hard into the mud, then sliding/slowing down, all the way down the strip. (In a similar way as the high school math teacher asks: A train leaves Boston the same time as Mrs. Smith starts brewing coffee... Does the snow melt?) Does that plane stop before the airstrip runs out? We can walk the airstrip and talk about it till the cows come home, but still there is heavy figuring to do.

I forgot if I mentioned the plane on Tuesday. A smaller plane landed here in the mud. We all went to see it, expecting pieces, but finding it alright (but a little muddy). It took two tries to take off, and I bet those pilots will never try landing here for a long time.

Well, we'll see what happens. If it rains, it is almost easier, since all bets are off.

Besides that little thing, today we moved the office into a large tent. It is actually quite nice. This tent (called a trigano) is the basic tent for all MSF purposes. It is quick to assemble (assuming all parts are present) and fit for all weather (it even keeps the heat in!) We moved the office to redo the roof, walls and door. It was leaking a bunch, and parts of the walls were... less than they should be. Also, the cats had made holes in the mosquito net too. So, today after the log team and I moved all the big things, I dismissed them early so I could do the electrical set-up.

In Sri Lanka, my log teams were experts on solar panels and electrical work related to that. Here, I had to walk away (and offer a learning experience) from the team, as all 5 got involved at un-doing a bolt and nut, the wrong way. After 15 minutes, they were getting really into it with leverage, still turning the wrong way. I don't mean to downgrade their skills, but rather they have different skills. They can call the weather very well, and they can find the best mud for the walls, very well, but skip ahead a century of technology, and their skills fall short. After the office was empty, the roofing crew came by (no shortage of labour here) and started pulling off the old grass. Some of it will be re-used. After that, I want to raise the area over the door, then it will be re-roofed. After that, some of the mud walls will be knocked off, and re-mudded. (Funny division on labour, men roof and put the first mud on the walls, women do the final mudding. "Why is it like that?" is a question with no answer just yet.)

Well. It is close to a full moon. Last night and tonight many people are out most of the night, talking, drumming and singing in the different directions around the compound. It is very bright with the moon, and I guess with the shortage of other lighting (there is none) this is a chance to go out on the town. The night has cooled a little, so I will hit the bed.

Take care, and thank you for writing, it is good to hear from home.

Love,

Steve

South Sudan Journal, Parts 3 & 4 (of 29)

stevedennis@egate.net (Steve Dennis) — Thu, 17 Nov 2005 02:33:00 +0000

Message #3 October 3, 2003

Hello Mom and Dad.

Thank you for the email, it is good to get news of home, and news from friends through you.

Things here are coming along, but I still feel like I have lots to learn. I am working hard in the days, and into the nights with this handover with Karline. There are just so many things to order (Medical drugs, equipment, logistical materials and equipment, food for patients, food incentives for the staff, etc) and so many places to order from (Lokichokkio, Nairobi, Amsterdam) and places to store it, along with expiry dates and other losses. Plus, the staff (100+ staff) issues are pretty difficult, and the whole, "how everything in the compound and clinics works" talking; things are going to be busy.

I got an email question from a friend the other day; I thought this would be a good forum to answer it. The question summarized is, "How did my thoughts before I arrive and now, differ in relation to my relationships with the national and international staff?" I'm glad I took a couple days to think about that, here are my first thoughts.

Before I arrived here, I knew it would be hard to relate to people here, since we are from different societies and economic environments. How can I complain to someone about losing a CD if the average family owns a pot, a couple of water jugs, and some cloths; and doesn't really understand how music can come from a source, other than people playing music in front of them. I felt before that the differences in our environments would make interactions difficult, and also impersonal. I was pleasantly surprised.

I am learning that the stuff of interactions, and relationships span more than one's home environment and upbringing. Handshakes are really big here. Off the plane, it took 20 minutes to shake hands with EVERY person who came to see the plane. To the ones that didn't get a handshake, they held the same face, as someone left out of a greeting in Canada. Also, other interaction things, like acknowledging good work, are very well received here, as in Canada too. I have yet to find a person who doesn't like a 'thank you' Joking around, is also something I found universal in my travels, and here it is no different; sure it is on a different level, joking about falling into a latrine, or about the little cow pushing the big cow, but the laughs are the same.

There are, however, many things that make up what defines the people here, that I have no understanding of. For instance, I have learned that when a man forces himself on a woman (what we would call a rape, or sexual harassment) is called, "taking a woman" and there is little distinction of a rape, and a consenting marriage, it is all considered, "taking a woman". With taking a woman, there is a payment of cows to the family of the woman, (similar to a dowry.) One of the guards and a translator came up to me, and the translator said, "His sister was taken by a man, so now he has to take three days off to get the cows." He said it as plainly, as if someone back home said, "I'm taking Friday off and going to the cottage for the weekend." In times like that, I realize that even though just an hour ago we joked about the sky looking like it would rain (something we would both feel the effects of), after a statement like that, I have no experience in my history to refer to, on how to react. What to say, "Good luck with it then" or "Say hello to your sister" or "???" Today, another thing came up. I was interviewing for another cleaner, for our Kala Azar clinic. After the "hello" and introductions, things got different. Through a translator, parts of the interviews that I will remember for a while were as follows.

Steve: "So do you children?"
Translator: "She has had 8."
Steve: "Wow, you must be busy."
Translator: "Two are alive."

Steve: "How old are you?"
Translator: "She doesn't know."

Steve: "Do you know why you are here?"
Translator: "She says she was told to come here to get a job, maybe cooking, maybe as a nurse."

Steve: "The position is for a cleaner, to clean our Kala Azar clinic and Latrines."
Translator: "She says she lives alone and doesn't know how to 'clean' but she wants the job."

These are some of the things that make me feel like I know nothing, except that I do actually know nothing.

We ended up hiring an old lady that worked for us, until May, when her drinking and abuse to the patients was too much, and she was fired. But, after her food ran out, she started cleaning the clinic and getting scraps for the work. She is doing a great job at it, and it is the worst job.

Our best labourer was once a guard, until he shot the wife of the community leader in the leg, and as a result, was fired. He settled the dispute by paying the leader some cows, then the men were friends again, (the wife lost her leg), and he came back for his job. MSF was a little confused, but the leader clarified that the issue was resolved, so he was allowed to work with us again.

Our carpenter is a very friendly, insistent, sloppy, filthy, high energy, drunk. But, for 3 bars of soap, 1.5kgs of salt, and some encouragement, he'll work hard for the day. His work looks like he is also blind, but it is good by local standards, tools and expectations.

It is different. That is the only word I can use to express how things are run here: different, but very understandable.

It is easy to understand how staff just takes a day off, with no notice to us. Their roofs leak, and their 3-month supply of food could spoil, so they stay home to repair it. It is easy to understand how condoms are illegal here, since making babies is the only way the community will survive, (strength in numbers.)

It is easy to understand why no one uses garbage containers. Everything they have ever wrapped something in, is either valuable (cloth) or it is a leaf. It is easy to understand why most men have 3-5 wives and some girlfriends too, all the other men have been killed, and the community knows a fertile woman is too valued. People here live day-to-day, hand to mouth.

One of the big reasons why I wanted to come here (and to do this type of work) is to see how the other 95% of the world live. Sudan is bigger than continental Europe. It has different populations, (Arabs and Black Africans). In the south (Black Africa) there are many tribes (Dinka, Nuer, etc). We live within the Nuer area, but are between two different clans, and communicate with the two different Chiefs. Wow, where I find myself right now, is an environment about as different as I think one can get in the world, without going below the sea, or leaving the planet.

Sorry for the delay in replying to the email. There is one computer between the team of 12 people. It is the end of the month, so people are also doing their end of month report. Please let me know your other questions, the more familiar I am of here, the less I know what your curiosities are.

Maybe I should mention my current surroundings. It is 22:30 on Thursday night. It is Joan's (a nurse) birthday, so we had a nice mashed canned peaches and vodka cocktails (hold the ice) and spaghetti with meat sauce dinner. The temperature has dropped this evening to 30, but I still wipe sweat off my forehead. I am in the office, which is a mud hut, (wood sticks with mud on both sides of them, except no mud where you want a 'window'. The roof is a grass top, but we hang cotton sheeting under it, since the termites eat it, and drop lots on the office. The termites like our roofs, since we don't cook in the tukel.) My tukel (Hut) is approximately 10 feet in diameter, except it isn't round and it isn't square either, parts resemble both shapes (needless to say, the labour and education here is very basic.) I have a trunk that I can lock, and a box where I can leave my book. Besides that a bed (wood frame and cow-hide lacing for under the mattress) and mosquito net. Kala Azar (one of the diseases we treat) is spread by a little fly called the sand fly. It is smaller than mosquitoes, so this netting has smaller holes, so it gets hot inside. The good part about the hot mosquito net is, I don't have to make a sauna. The food is actually good here. All our food (except for cow meat) is flown in. It mostly consists of cans, but the fresh food lasts for about 5 days, of the 10-day rotation. Tomorrow is the incoming flight, so once again, bananas, tomatoes, green peppers and potatoes. The people here don't eat so well. The feeding centre we run is because there is a distinct hunger. This is the harvest time, yet still the feeding centre is used a lot. Part of our upcoming preparation will be for the next 4 months, when the food starts running out (dry season) and the rains are not coming.

The people here (expat team) are very good here. In such a setting, I find there are no small problems, and good things are found in the big problems too. Also, a healthy dose of humour is great. I really like the team here, which makes all the difference. We have some staff from other communities in the Nuer tribe staying with us, which gives us a healthy dose of understanding when talking about project direction, staffing issues, or even what to get the national staff for Christmas. There are also people from Kenya, England, USA, Germany, Holland and Canada.

There are cats here too. I don't like cats, but we are trying to keep a good balance with their feeding, so they keep the 'other living things' down a little. There are some very impressive bugs here, but so far I haven't seen too many other signs of wildlife. I did see some hyena tracks and the tail of a larger snake as it slide into the bush.

One more thing about this place, there are some flights coming in every-so-often. There is another NGO (Non-government-organization) here, and some others that visit, and everything is by plane. Usually they fly over, to check the airstrip, then they land and we all go to see them. There are also Hercules airplanes that come by to drop food. These are large aircrafts that drop 16,000kgs of food. I haven't seen a drop yet, but this week there has been some talk about a drop, and I went to see the drop zone one day. It was a long muddy walk, to the drop field, approx. 6 inches deep of water. WFP (World Food Program) miss-communicated its intentions to drop food there, so I went to check the drop area. After I saw it, we communicated back to Loki, and their base, that it was not suitable for a drop. The next morning a Hercules flew by, it was big. As it lined up to the drop area, our hearts stopped. We have run out of maize (corn) for our weekly distribution to our patients (approx 4kg/patient x 400 patients = 1,600kgs) and WFP was going to deliver that weekly ration for the next few months to us. Unfortunately, that field would be the home of 16 tons of spoiled food if it dropped. Fortunately, the crew did not drop, but damn, what an expensive plane to send on a miss-communication; and what a waste, spoiling 16 tons of food, in front of a population that is starving.

Well, it is late now. The dogs are barking, the mosquitoes are still biting and the battery power is getting low. Goodnight for now, and I will write again as soon as I can.

Cheers everyone, know that I am happy, healthy and full of no regrets.

Steve

P.S.

Joe I look forward to the CD, have a great time.

Magda: thank you.

Michelle: I hope that answers your question.

Nana: I came to Nairobi with all 11 bears, and I have two with me in the project. The rest are in Loki in storage. It will be difficult to find the right children to give them to, hundreds are worthy of them. The problem is, no one owns anything; so one possession will stand out in a crowd. I will find a way though! I have some other thoughts of maybe
visiting some hospitals on my travels around Kenya on my vacation, and giving them there. I will keep you informed. By the way, they don't like the heat either.

Dad: You are running an interviewing workshop?!? Boy, do I have a lot to ask... where to begin? I hope to see your two books when they are done.

Mom: I think I can send photos in a couple of months once I am back in Loki and have access to a CD burner. I agree, they will speak a thousand words. And yes, I am enjoying things here.

Mike, Steph, Christian, Taylor: I miss you guys.

Christina: As we talked, it is different here. Also, with regards to making a chess set out of bottle caps. We don't get bottles here. I'm thinking of alternatives.
Message #4 October 5, 2003

Hello Mom and Dad.

Well, it is Saturday night, and all is well. It is about midnight, and it is rather hot. The team usually goes to bed early, since the work is pretty full-on here, and with the morning coming quickly, rest is precious. Fortunately, tomorrow is Sunday, and I will enjoy some slower work, like starting the 3-month medical and expat food orders.

The day was pretty full with lots of work, then in the afternoon once most of the staff was dismissed, I got into some tasks that are easier to do without interruption. (For instance, we have store managers, but their math skills are not good at all. So, going over their inventories is always a challenge. I thought, "finding the missing rupees," was a fun game in Sri Lanka. Here, "find the missing 200kgs of maize," seems to be much more... surprising.) After that, at 1800 we have our weekly medical meeting, which lasted till approximately 2000, then some dinner, great conversation, a shower, and bed by 2300. Funny thing about the shower, I don't know when I am finished toweling off water, and I should stop, since there seems to always be a layer of sweat on me. After some time in bed, enclosed in my "super fine mesh" mosquito net, I was a little too hot to sleep, and my mind was up for some thoughts, and I thought it would be a good time to write an email and share them with you.

I don't think I have expressed much about all the things they have here, in Lankien. They have, very very little. Few possessions, and little food. There are many conversations, (and many personal debates I hold with myself) regarding food, and what fortune it is that we (the expat team) has, in relation to what is present, just outside our compound.

I am in charge of providing the cook with the food and direction for getting giving us food. Our cook, and most of the people here, only eat a very few things. In harvest time, (the end of the rainy season, that is now) and for about 4 months afterwards, there is maize (corn) and shorgum. In the "market" there are no vegetables or fruit. There is some meat, usually beef, but it is a highly priced thing. At the end of the rainy season, the cows are herded to a river to graze there. After the dried harvest stock runs out, there is even less available for a couple of months. I hear this is the hardest part of the difference between our food and what everyone else has. Once the rains come again, the cows come back to graze again in the area. When the cows are back, people feed off of the cow's milk and blood, until the harvest is ready again.

The other thing that they have is WFP (World Food Program) drops food for the community. This is more maize, also a high protein mix called unimix, some beans and oil.

So, back to our compound, and the difference across the fence. Yesterday, we had a plane come in, so we got some fresh veggies. Tonight we had spaghetti with a great tomato sauce using fresh tomatoes, peppers, onions, and garlic; and we had more food than people could eat. The big question came to me, the question that I think I'll ponder for months now, "what to do with the extra?"

I'm sure when everyone is young, in a western country, a parental figure makes the statement, "eat it all, there are starving people in Africa!" And there is usually a reply, or thought, "I'll just put it in an envelope and send it there then, eh!" It is much different when they are just across the fence.

There are some cats here that have kept the rodent population down quite well apparently, and so, we feed them a little to keep them around. Anyway, there is a batch of canned pork that is expired, but we keep it, to feed the cats. I feel like one of those people back home that spends silly amounts of money on "free range, low carb, salt free," food for their pet cat. Expired canned pork is probably a luxury in the local market, but we use it for the cats.

So, in an effort to take this want to do something, past the point of just talking about it, and actually DO SOMETHING, I am up late, tossing ideas, and writing some down.

In Sri Lanka in one project, we collected the extra food and made a dish for the guards. The guards would always say thank you, in what I thought was an appreciative tone. In the other project, the team felt that was a little insulting, "leaving our table scraps," and instead the dog got them. I remember times being on the other end of someone's random generosity, and it is a hard place to be. Will they give me a tip or not, will they drive me or not, or will I get some of their food, or not?

The people here are hungry. Just like in those TV ads, "for the cost of one coffee a day, you could save someone like little Jessica here," and they show a very skinny, almost stick-like figure, that is a person. We have a therapeutic feeding centre, so we attract those malnourished people, but the people outside the clinic, aren't too much better. A nurse here, Joan, commented, "you are suppose to keep them (the feeding centre patients) in the feeding centre, until they are 85% of their minimum weight to height ratio. We discharge them at 80%. Damn, at 85%, they are the fattest kids in the village!"

In the mornings, I go to check the airstrip. It is a nice morning walk, and a chance to see outside the clinic and compound. It is also, a good way to meet people. It is a very social place, everyone here too, says hello, (funny that, someone must have come here a long time ago and civilized the natives, then got erased from history). It is quite nice, there are many different greetings, and you can spend quite some time, passing greetings back and forth between people you pass. (Translated) "Good Greetings" - ma-le me-goa "Big Greetings" - ma-le ma-dit "Healthy body greetings" - ma-le poin-du "Sweet greetings" - Ma-le me-lim-lim "Sweeter Greetings" - ma-le me-chum etc. Also, many children come and want to shake your hand, hold your hand and walk with you for some time, and always beg to be lifted up. It is always a fun walk.

In that little walk, there is some garbage (from some of the specialized food we give to the feeding centre patients) on the path. I once started picking up some pieces of garbage, to see if I could start a trend, and to my pleasant surprise the kids around me were frantically looking for garbage to put in the pile, as I had. After each of them did something, I rewarded them by lifting them up. To my further surprise, they are very very light.

Well, the extra cooked food thing, I have resolved nothing, except that I shouldn't do anything, until I understand things here a little more. Fortunately, there is a health worker on the team that is from this area, Francis. He is Nuer, and I think I will be picking his mind a lot about some of these things. Just tonight I finally talked with him about where he was from and his family etc. His wife and children are in a refugee camp in northern Kenya, possibly even getting maize, unimix, beans and oil from WFP, while he watches us feed our cats canned pork.

People have told me before I got here, Sudan is a unique place, and I have to agree. We often have debates about our level of comfort here. For instance, technology, and our budget, allow us to have a small propane powered fridge that can chill some drinks. That would be so nice, a cold beer on a hot day, (and there are no shortages of hot days.) But, how do you carry that fridge past a hundred hungry people into our compound for us (or, how do you choose to take a propane cylinder instead of a bag of maize on the plane)? Actually, how do you explain the need for a machine to cool things, when there isn't enough food to feed people? What is cold? Why would you cool things?

Also, the debates go on about better tukels (huts) or even a social tukel, so we could eat outside the kitchen or office. My first reaction was, "Yes, let's build it! These flies and mosquitoes are a hassle." But, like most of my first thoughts after arriving here, I think I should sit on it a little before acting. There is something MSF pushes, they call it, "proximaty". Proximaty, as I understand it, is being with the population we are serving. I don't think that means to starve, to know what it is like, but it questions how in-touch to the needs of a population can you be, if you are "removed" from it through the comforts that you can afford. Well, debates have been going on in this place for years, and they will for years to come. It is 0200 Sunday morning, I should go soon.

Before I do, maybe another snapshot of Lankien. There is nothing to do for the people here, and the smallest excitement, is very exciting. When a plane comes, it is pretty big. People (mostly children, but also the village leaders and others) from all over come to see it, and if the big man with a stick isn't looking, one can run up to the plane and touch it. If there is a load to take off the plane, the quick kids are able to get on the plane and unload it. There is then a flurry of people bringing things to the compound. Even the very small (very light) kids carry things on their heads on the way to the compound.

Technology skipped here. Apparently last year when a well drilling team was brought in, a vehicle was brought by plane. When the truck drove off the plane, the crowd ran for their lives! Many of them had never seen a car before. And how could they, there aren't any for a very long walk (~7 days).

The kids play games in the street with what they have. There are dried clay pieces in different shapes for their games. There is a volleyball net and clearing set-up. I think a volleyball and net fell out of an airplane and has changed life here. Tomorrow MSF has been challenged to a game, wish us luck!

The people here are very tall. I am often looking across to people's eyes, and sometimes up a little too. Facial scaring is practiced here too. All the Nuer men have horizontal lines cut in their foreheads when they reach 12-14 years old. Many of the women have a different type of facial scaring, where little scared dots decorate around their eyes in radiating circles, and out on their cheeks. Very distinctive.

The best part is, they are very friendly, and it is a pleasure to live and work with them.

Well, the battery is almost spent on this computer, so I'll say goodnight now. Take care,

Steve

P.S. I learned this prayer some years ago, and it rings more powerful to me the more of the world I see. "For food in a world where many go hungry, for security where many live in fear, and for friends and family where many walk alone, for this we give thanks." Thank you Malcolm.

South Sudan Journal, Parts 1 & 2 (of 29)

stevedennis@egate.net (Steve Dennis) — Thu, 17 Nov 2005 02:32:00 +0000

South Sudan Journal

With

Medecins Sans Frontieres
(Doctors Without Borders)

By

Steve Dennis

September, 2003 to September, 2004
Message #1 September 23, 2003

Hello Mom and Dad and All.

I am in Nairobi now, receiving my final briefings before heading north, first to Lokichokkio, then to Lankien, (South Sudan).

Brief summary of past and present: I am heading to South Sudan, to work with Medecins Sans Frontieres (MSF, or Doctors Without Borders) as a Logistician. The purpose for the project I am working on, Lankien, is to treat the major diseases in the area (Jonglea and Eastern Upper Nile), namely Kala Azar (KA) and Tuberculosis (TB). Further, for severely malnourished people, there is a feeding centre. I am on a 9-month contract here. This is my second time out, working with MSF. I like them; for more on who they are, what they do and where, refer to www.msf.org

In April, I finished in Sri Lanka, concluding with the MSF project closure in Mallavi Hospital. After a quick visit home, I did an emergency water and sanitation course in the UK (two week course by the experts, for MSF), then did some travel in Scotland and with Christina in Germany. Early July I was back in Canada for a very nice vacation and visit with family and friends. Through that time, I was in contact with MSF about my next mission. The project in Sudan was brought up a couple of times, and the more I found out about it, the more I was interested in it. By mid August, I had agreed to take the position of Logistician in Lankien, South Sudan... and the ball started rolling.

Now the recent past:

There was a distinct change in life after the confirmation that I was going to South Sudan. Maps were consulted, news reports of Sudan were all the sudden very interesting, and much reading was done.

My flight to Amsterdam was on the 5th of Sept. I wanted to have a couple more weeks with Christina before going south. I am working again with the Holland section of MSF, so all my more important briefings are at that office in Amsterdam.

After a couple of weeks with Christina in Germany, I was back to Amsterdam and again, talk of Sudan consumed my many thoughts. The briefings went well, and finally I was ready, again to "go to Sudan." My mind was filled with many answers, but like religion, the more answers you have, the more questions you have, and the less you feel you know. I think, just like discussing the afterlife, one has to go there for some time and experience it, to really become an authority.

So, early Saturday the 20th, I headed to the airport and let KLM take me south. (KLM really do a good job.) It was a day flight, and the skies were clear. We passed Frankfurt, then the Alps came into view, like ripples in a model scene of Europe. Then came the Med Sea, and the movie! After the movie, I looked out, and there was sand, lots of it, everywhere, and nothing else.
Soon after, was still sand, and more sand, and even after that more sand. The next movie came, and afterwards, more sand still. The on-flight screens show the position of the plane on a map (KLM is great!) We entered Sudan, and at one point, we flew over some clouds. Based on the map, we were over the approximate area of Lankien, my project location. That sounded right, they were still in the rainy season.

Wow, we flew right over the project location. I was sipping a cold beer, watching the animated movie Finding Nemo, just after a nice meal. I bet if we crashed there, and the movie still ran, the people on the ground would have surely thought we were from another world, which, suspended 10,000m above them, at that point, I truly was. I wonder if they would walk out of their tukels (mud-walled huts) clad in beads and little else, holding a spear, just finished their grain meal (the same as the day before, and the day before that) and watch the unusual line being drawn in the sky and wunder what that is. For those who haven't seen it yet, refer to "The God's Must be Crazy" for more thoughts on that.

I landed in Nairobi with my game face on. Unusual place, heard lots of stories, and must be on my toes to differentiate fact from fiction. The customs went well, no problems. The visa desk was good too, even with a little test by the lady who "forgot" to give me my change of $10 US. Welcome to Nairobi.

I arrived at the guesthouse, and within 15 minutes I along with three other expats and a national staff escort we went out for some food and entertainment. Great night out, and a good intro to Nairobi. Nairobi is nice. Everyone says, "hello," or "Good day," as you pass in the street. I still laugh at the advice people have told the air, (in my presence), back home "we have to teach those people in Africa how to live properly, and civilized." When was the last time someone said, "hello," to me in Toronto?

My briefings have gone well. I have a good background to the politics, and struggles (both militarily and medically) that the people in Sudan have been going through. As for the project, yes I know the basics of the layouts, the activities, the problems, the good parts, the frustrations, the common stolen items, and the types of flies that frequent the latrines. But like religion, for everything I know, I realize I don’t know even more.

I have a feeling of sailing into a fogbank. The water ahead is unclear. I can call the team on the radio, and hear everything is well, but I cannot see ahead more than a little. Under my feet I feel a sturdy ship, MSF. MSF has flown me across oceans and to far off places and back, without problems. Every time I arrive there are drivers waiting, and people expecting me. I credit good organization to this coincidence. And it is not only in picking up expats at the airport, they are also consistently good at how they do what they do, and consistent with security policies and procedures. For these reasons, I am comforted, and confident I am in good hands, as I head north to Lokichokkio, then into Sudan.

Well, today turned into yesterday as I return to finish this email after another night out. Now Today I head to Loki. One more briefing here, then a flight, and three more days of briefings in Loki, before I fly to Lankien for... briefings. Right now I am reading a 20-page document about the influence of oil exploration and drilling, and it's influence in the war, in South Sudan. Last night was an assortment of readings, including "Violence, Health and Access to Aid, in Western Upper Nile." Very specific, and applicable stuff.

The direction that the projects head in are decided by those factors, oil, the conflict, the politics of the tribes and clan and governments and commanders that have switched sides, etc. Fortunately the people making those decisions have been in, or involved in South Sudan for the last 10 years +, and know this stuff like their own family politics, or better. I have just scratched the surface, the child that has heard of a God, and asked, "what is God?" or "Why is there a conflict in Sudan?" There are simple answers, and longer ones. I think after 9 months, I will know the basics.

Well, that's it about how I feel now.
The stuff I know about the project is that it is very basic. The mud huts (called tukels) which last about 1 to 1.5 years, there is a fridge, but that is for vaccines not beer, the electrical system is basic (solar panels to batteries to radios and computers, that's it.), the food is canned, but fresh food in every 10 days or so, the clinic is next to the living compound, patients don't take the Sunday off, flies are common, staff are starting to steal a lot, food goes bad quickly, it is hot, etc. etc. I also know that this project is very significant in the results it produces. Kala Azar has claimed approximately 100,000 deaths in the area over a couple of decades, and epidemics are likely, if cases are not treated early, before the population with the disease grows. This intervention is important that way and many others.

Personally, it is a chance again to thank the forces that have given me all I have. As well, from my first trip south to Guatemala, my eyes have started to open to how others live in our world. I have stepped outside my life in Toronto, and now I want to look around the corner too. I sometimes don't like what I see, and often I am disgusted, but I prefer to see, than not.

My expectations for this mission are that it will be difficult at times, and frustrating at others. However, this may be my most insightful look yet. (Funny way of doing it, traveling half around the world to look inside.)

That is all for now. I will try to write often, for I have heard from many of you that you appreciate these emails. I am keeping these as open and honest as I can, since you are friends and family I trust and love, or friends of, and just as welcome to my thoughts.

Cheers everyone,

Steve

P.S. Also I can receive emails at the project. Please only send them in a few weeks, once I have settled there.

The email address I can receive at is: msfh-ssudan-kilo1@amsterdam.msf.org

The same email rules apply there. No photos, no attachments, cut off the previous emails, and put my name in the subject line. These restrictions are because the email is downloaded from an expensive satellite, and shared with everyone.

The address to send packages is the Amsterdam office. The address and labeling are as follows:

Steve Dennis (South Sudan)
c/o MSF Holland
Plantage Middenlaan 14,
P.O. Box. 10014
1001 EA Amsterdam
The Netherlands

Since it will be carried into Kenya from the next expat in, it will take some time, and it should be under 1 Kilo. Further, it may be opened, so please no sharp items (airplane.)

It would be nice to hear from people once or twice, or so; or if you produce a music CD, book, etc I would love to have a copy.

Message #2 September 27, 2003

Hi Mom and Dad.

I arrived today in Lankien. Everything is well. It was a little unsure if I could get here today. The airstrip was still wet this morning, but the plane had to go to other locations first. With a little help from the community, enough of the water was removed, and the strip dried, and we landed safely.

Lankien is a very interesting place. As suspected, this is much further away (in time and space) from Canada than Sri Lanka. We flew out of Loki at 0630, and after 5 minutes, there was a whole lot of nothing, followed by more nothing. There is nothing out here.

The mud huts in Sri Lanka had concrete floors and nice roofs, these are a little... less like that. Quite spartan, but livable.

The clinics that we run are very big, almost as big as the hospitals in Sri Lanka, however, the patient numbers are much larger, and everything is made out of mud and grass. It is really quite interesting, and I can see many many challenges coming up. I haven't found out about how pictures are perceived here, but I hope to get some good ones to you next time I am out in Loki. (~2months). It is really a bit different.

Well, it is late, everyone is going to bed, and I will too. The temperature has dropped to approx 32 degrees, and I think I can sleep. I am now remembering the heat I found in Sri Lanka. I forgot that I don't particularly like that, but I think I'll stay.

Good night, cheers,

Steve

Howard Edmund Dennis

stevedennis@egate.net (Steve Dennis) — Fri, 21 Oct 2005 20:36:00 +0000

Many people knew my Grandfather as a friend, or relative. And many people didn't know him as I did, as a most wonderful Grandfather, friend, and mentor. He lived a full life, and he lives on in those he touched.
Let me introduce to you, My Grandfather, as I knew him.
-------------
One day in the garage, he stood me up against the tablesaw and said, "Yup, you're tall enough, let's build," and we did. For as long as I could remember, he was always teaching me. Mostly he taught me things related to wood and construction of all things, but also math, science, and generally how the world worked and who was responsible for that.
We would fly fantastic kites way up in the sky. You couldn't see the actual kite for it was so far away; the only evidence of a kite, was a mysterious fishing line pointed to the heavens. He would take my brother and I out to the local park armed with bows and arrows to learn life skills. Fortunately for the squirrels, we were too inexperienced at life just yet.
My first negotiating experience came after we built a three foot high methyl-hydrate burning hot air balloon. This lofty aircraft was built with care with the finest tissue papers and light metals. After the flame was lit and the balloon started taking shape, it lightly swayed back and forth, until it gently rose out of my hand. It continued to rise and rise into the air. Slowly it drifted down the street with the slightest of breezes. At one point though, a brief gust caught it, the flame licked the side of the balloon and the craft turned into a ball of flame, then the metal ring at the bottom fell into the neighbor's backyard. His negotiation briefing was very short and objective oriented, "well you better ask nicely if we're going to get the ring back to build another one. Off you go now."
One time I asked Him if we could get a new table saw. "Grandad, I see they have some 2 horsepower tablesaws out now. Maybe we could get one?" "Has wood gotten any harder these days? Hasn't this one has been good for us?"
Through the years, the building projects turned from toys to school projects, to furniture and home renovations. I asked him once about what he thought about a design for a table I wanted to build. "The most important thing is, make it big enough so you can fit enough close friends and family around it to have wonderful dinners and dinner discussions afterwards." "But what about my design on how I want to connect the legs? Or what about the decorative cherry I want to put in?" "Damn it, you're not listening to me. All that stuff, the design, the different woods, you'll figure that out. Now listen. Make it big enough..."
Some years ago I was moving the table saw and I dropped the motor. Regret and shame overcame me when I plugged it in, and it didn't work. This motor had seen many many projects through the ??? (I didn't know how many) years. I was ashamed of the carelessness to drop it. I decided it was in the category of things that could be understood and therefore fixed. I think He taught me that one. My Dad taught me, "There's always two ways to skin a cat." We never did any 'Cat Skinning' in our house, but using those two approaches, I took the motor apart. Inside was a small compartment, where there was a note from Sears, 1956, "Quality Motors." (It certainly is). I fixed the motor, and asked Him about the date. "Your Grandmother's Mother died and she got some money. She bought a dress and we put the rest to the table saw." My Grandmother interrupted, "he was kind enough to allow me a dress; I didn't have too many dresses back then." And he interrupted back, "A tablesaw is the backbone to any household!"
Well, the tablesaw is still in good working order, and I'm happy to report that wood hasn't gotten any harder these days either.
Over the years his challenging of me became more discussions, than lessons. He never had the benefit of a formal university education, but he had most of it figured out by himself. We would fluently discuss the attributes of trigonometry and calculus on daily life, as it happens in the universe. Then there was the discussions on sailing, shipbuilding and all things naval. Even in his later years, when things weren't as clear for him in front of others, we would excuse ourselves from Nana and retire to his office to discuss the attributes of a clipper ship hull over any other vessel in the water. He would have our favorite book (The Search For Speed Under Sail) marked at different pages, for us to start our current discussions.
Each time I return home from overseas I have some quiet reflection time. I like to take out the tools, sharpen the numerous blades, clean off that slight layer of rust on the top of the tablesaw and start building something. I like taking the time to, "measure twice cut once," "try it first on scrap, it is easier to throw out if it is the wrong cut," and smell the immortal flavor of an active woodshop.
After finishing a wooden project once, his advice was clear and to the point, "Burn your initials in the bottom, and BURN'EM DEEP!" Maybe that has become a metaphor on life, and maybe his life.
My Grandfather passed away this June 20th, 2005. His time had come, his indelible mark left on all that knew and loved him. Well Grandad, you've left your mark, and it is a deep one. It can be seen in the appreciation for fine tools and the time to use them, as well as the enjoyment of challenging gravity, the theoretical search for speed under sail, the excitement within curiosity, the value of books, what wood feels like, and the enjoyment of a discussion around the table as the drinks keep flowing.
Thank you Grandad, thank you for everything, rest in peace.
Love,
Steve,
Your Grandson, Your Apprentice, Your Friend

Money, Tired, Rain, Heat, Patient Committees and Leaving for R&R!

stevedennis@egate.net (Steve Dennis) — Fri, 06 May 2005 09:45:00 +0000

Hello folks. Quick little update. Nothing big to report. I will be heading out later this week for some R&R and then some training in Amsterdam for a couple weeks then back into here for some more weeks before finishing in June. Things are going well, but this place is a difficult place to work.

Money:

I have been paying people for things left and right, and today my money drawer was empty of Somali shillings. I called for the driver to come here "Haron, Fadlan Kalay Halcas" (Haron, please come here.) I took from the top of my small pile of US dollars, two bills, two crisp hundred-dollar bills, and handed them to Haron. "Change these into Somali please Haron." "Somali?" "Haa" (Yes). And off he went in his car.

Approximately 30 minutes later, Haron returns with a large bag full of money. "What was the exchange today Haron?" I asked. "Today fifteen four." Meaning 15,400 shillings to the dollar. Yesterday it was 16,000, last week it was 15,000; it moves a little.

Haron started unloading the stacks of 500,000 shilling bundles onto my desk, "shan borrow konn, hal million, hal million iyo shan borrow konn, " "(five hundred thousand, one million, one million and five hundred thousand. He was helping me with my pronunciations as we stacked the stacks.) We counted all three million, and eighty thousand shillings in one hundred thousand shilling bundles. There are only two notes in general use in Somalia, the 500 shilling note, and the 1000 shilling note. It is only efficient to count the money by size, since no one here counts that much money one bill at a time; that would take all day. (The Somalis laugh at how white folks count many bills. It is a slow process compared to how they speed them off. Taking a stack of 100, thousand shilling notes, a Somali could count off 50,000 shillings 4 or 5 times before I could. I have gotten better at running my fingers through the bills, but still my skills are lacking and not that accurate.) He left and I started loading up my vacant drawer. To my surprise, it was full. In that one money transaction, Haron changed my two crisp hundred dollar bills, into a smelly pile of crumbling notes three feet high! I hear in Somalia they still print money. I hope, more than any other benefit to peace and the government returning to Somalia is that they soon print a ten thousand shilling note!

Tired:

It was 1430 today, and I was a little upset. In the afternoons I try to take at least 20 minutes of rest before starting my afternoon, and this afternoon, I didn't think I would get it all, that upset me (it's the little things, eh). Damn, "let's try anyway", I optimistically thought. The temperature is up, and the humidity is violent to my clothes and my smell, so I try to limit activity while getting my bed ready for a little rest.

1435 I lay out my plastic floor mat, folded 4 times for comfort; but that only leaves a mat wide enough for me, and long enough for most but not all of me. I sleep on the concrete floor because it is a little cooler than the bed, letting out a little of the cold it retains from the night before. I place a sarong overtop of the mat (because, hey, I can't lay down on plastic, I do have style and comfort issues to deal with.) I remove anything that would keep the heat in, then lay down. I can feel the stress flow from the top of my body slowly out of my sinuses, slowly to the middle of my head, slowly coming to the back of my head, slowly draining out the point it touches the mattress, then out. This is good! Just then, just as I have exhaled the last ounce of stressful thought or negative energy, my alarm rings; it is 1450, time to get going again. Damn, I really could have used that other 5 minutes. I'm tired.

Rain:

It has been getting hot here lately; hot and humid too. Odd to feel humid, when there hasnt been rain since I got here four months ago, or some months before that. Actually, a drought ended in November when it rained for the first time in four years. Wow, "four years, no rain?" "Yup, it got bad then, but with the rain, we will be alright for a while." (I live in a different world. In my world, I don't ever recall a time where the water stopped its infinite supply out of the tap. Does that ever happen? If I didn't know better, I think I would believe that our tap was hooked up to a clean river from heaven.

When living in a place like this, or other lower resource, warmer climates, a person becomes in touch with nature. You can comment on some things with authority like, "there are more clouds these days," or "it is less windy these days," because you are intimately in touch with it all. The sky, the unforgiving sky without clouds, or the clear night sky that allows you to walk around in full view of your surroundings. The wind, the dust it brings, cooling effect it gives, the direction it blows your papers, and the frustrating way it takes the badminton shuttlecock to the right. And let's not forget the air itself; does it suck the moisture from your brow, cooling your head, or is it heavy with moisture, unable to take any from your body (please, take just a little, I have far too much). And you can definitely comment on the rain, "what the hell is that noise? Surely that isn't rain!"

It begins much before the first drop can be heard, seen and joyfully felt. It starts days, if not weeks before. It stays hot, as always, but with a new component, it gets humid too. The humidity can be felt in heavier air, more wind needed to cool, more clouds sheltering us in the day, and warmer nights. Then, a week or so after that is surely noticeable; the clouds start looking thicker and darker underneath. Soon, people start talking, "soon it may rain, In'shallah." Yes, of course, God willing, it will. "

As the talking is happening, anticipation for the rain comes. There is a little excitement each day that the rain holds off. "Certainly with this amount of clouds, rain will come today," but it doesn't. Before November, it didn't come for 4 years. How many days teased the farmers like this during those 4 years.

Then one day, the clouds looking dark, the air heavy and with no thermal refuge, the wind absent for the day, and just as I looked out a window to question if this was a darker day than before, a noise started up. Tap.tap. tap tap... tap tap taptappp. It had begun. The rain had arrived. Like a homeward bound ship becalmed 10 miles out, this was long anticipated, we could all see it was coming, we could all feel it was coming, and now it had arrived, it was raining.

It was around noon, we had just finished lunch and were taking rest before the afternoon work back at the office. One by one, everyone on the team came out to see it, taste it, feel it, and breath it. There we were, 8 people, standing in the rain as if it was raining spaghetti; "what was this coming from above?" as if we had never seen rain before, or long ago missed it's companionship. We stood, we smiled, we laughed, we joked and generally just took it in, enjoying its cooling touch.

It has been a week since the first rain. It rained a few nights ago again, harder than before, with more conviction and dedication to refill the water table in Galcayo. The town is generally flooded now; more of our drive to the hospital is through water than on dry land. And life has gone through a change. Sort of like the type of change that happens in spring in Canada, here life has been born; insect life mostly. I am sitting next to a light that is surrounded by more than 100 flying bugs large and small, and some big crawling ones too. There are the small regular ones, moths and smaller fliers, creating a lamp shade around the light. Then some larger one fly in with a deep buzzing sound. You can hear them from pretty far away, and they land with a light crunch as they collide with a wall or floor and some scrapping as they try to flip over. The crickets are out too. "Thanks folks, that's enough, we can hear you, we know you made it past the dry season, you can shut up now!" There are the praying mantis' too. They are by far the most elegant of them, once they land. (They are shit flyers and sometimes land in very unappreciated places, like the neck.) The Manti (I think that is the singular of Mantis, but not sure) sit there ready to, ah, er, pray, I suppose? I've never seen one eat anything. I would have thought the two arms out front would be posed to strike, but I have no witnessing to back that up. The ants are probably really confused. They have been around for a long time, all through the dry season, but now they are just one of the other bugs. (I suppose that is what it is like if you live all year around in cottage country, then spring hits and the weekend warriors come to invade your territory.)

Bugs and lights, why are lights so exciting. In Sudan in the rainy season, every night the "Bug Olympics - Fire Extinguishing Event" would be held on the table, as flying bugs would fly closer and closer to the candle flame to see which one could put it out. Many honorable second place contestants would be immortalized in the wax museum underneath. I think it is because of a mating thing. Supporting my theory that people do crazy things because of love, I also support that we are not the only ones doing crazy things for love. Whizzing around a light all night, hoping to get somewhere to meet the right kind of lady insect, wow, what great analogies could come out of that one!

So, yes, the bugs are out in full force. The trick is to limit the bugs in your room. By experience, I have learned to do this by being clever with the lights; lights off, open door; close door, lights on, but that doesn't work completely. So mosquito net techniques are vitally employed. Lights out, brush off close insects, lift net, climb in, lower net, and if you are fancy, tuck net into the bed (I'm not fancy, yet.) Last resort, there are sometimes one or two clever ones that get inside the net. For these ones, again the light is employed. Grab book in one hand, and line up to an insect on a side of the net against the wall. Turn off light and deliver a swift blow to the wall in the approximate area of the bug. Turn on light and inspect the progress. I like this one, because it uses technology to beat the bug. (No chemicals, ozone friendly, cordless, etc.)

The other life that is reborn, are the kids. In some of the larger puddles (small ponds really) there are kids jumping and swimming around. It makes me cringe when I think of how happy they are, and how open kids mouths are when they are happy, and how dirty the water is splashing in those mouths, but they are pretty happy. I do believe there really is nothing I could do in this situation, except appreciate how happy they are; sad that all that happiness will give some of them the shits though.

Imagine that, 4 years without rain; then one day it comes. There are some kids, who had never seen rain in their life before, and now their world is transformed, and they are old enough to know it is something really big. What great excitement!

It's not the heat:

The day is hot and humid. The thermometer reads HOT, but the standing water outside suggests it is a humid HOT. The cloth I use to wipe my head is wet. The other cloth I use to wipe my head when the first one is wet; is wet too. I bring a frozen 750ml bottle of water to the office in the morning at 0730. By 1000 if I don't wrap it in a cloth, it is water. Today I forgot to wrap it, therefore it is water already. Usually, I could use the ice all morning, re-filling the bottle up with a litre or two of warmer water, but not today. My one form of comfort in this heat, is that the Somali staff I work with, are also considering it hot. (Finally, I'm not the first to suggest it is a hot day, and have a reply, "wait till there is a hot day white man."

Patient Committee:

I started a Patient Committee in the TB Clinic. This Committee is intended to focus patient complaints. I feel I cannot listen to everyone's complaint, and I hate turning away people wanting to express their problems, so I suggested this one day and it was accepted. Actually, it was a little longer than that in forming:

For many mornings, I had come to the TB Clinic passing some patients who somewhat obviously wanted to talk with me. I could trade greetings, but they wanted more of my time, and I had things that needed my immediate attention, and I would have to decline. One morning, an old man called to me. I don't know what it was about him, but he held himself like someone who speaks when they have something to say, and it is a wise thing. I went to talk with him. We talked a little, trading greetings and comments on the weather. I had to refer to my book a lot, as I still can't understand or express that much Somali. After some time, I told him, let me get my translator and let's talk some more. I called to my translator and we walked back, now to a growing crowd of patients. "Subah wanagsan, Soo dawow." (Good morning, welcome!) I said, much to their enjoyment. I'm finding language an excellent bridge to these types of meetings. I cannot express more than 5% of myself, with the words, but I think people appreciate communication with their language. The crowd was getting bigger as we were greeting so more, and someone said, "fadhiiso." Ah, I remember that one, so I started to sit down. Then I started to heard parts of other words I understood, "...Somaliga... Famay... inyerr..." (Somali language... understands... little...) Yes I did understand some.

Okay, we were done greetings, now on to business greetings. "It is good of you to meet with us today. We appreciate MSF's involvement in the clinic and the help you give us. Allah has blessed us with your coming here, and again with your sitting with us today." My translator told me. "It is good to meet with all of you today as well. I am happy to receive your warm welcome, madhatsinid (thank you.)" And now on to business: "MSF must provide us with food, shelter, blankets, mosquito nets, etc." (<----That is heavily summarized. I would say that is the sum of five minutes of conversation from one person, then the conversation is passed around to the others in the group to express their business greeting and how they would also agree that MSF should provide everything.)

"You are right, you do need those things." I like agreeing with people first. I find it puts us together in approaching the problem from the same side. I generally put my own take on it too, or emphasize one of their points. "Yes, with this rain, life becomes more difficult if you do not have shelter. And yes, without food, the TB treatment we offer would be useless as you would die of hunger; good point Mohamed." Then, there is the reality that I must express, but gently. I like putting out the reality, and letting them agree. "What is MSF doing here?" I ask. "TB treatment" I get a reply. "If I had one hundred dollars, should I put it to training medical staff, and buying drugs to treat TB, or should I buy food, shelter, blankets and mosquito nets, so you are comfortable, but die of TB?" "Good question. You should get another hundred dollars and do both." "Good answer, but with two hundred dollars, should I get enough medicines, food and shelter for half of you, or medicines for all of you?" There is a point where there are no more answers. I don't like this point, this is a harsh reality setting in, and I'm the one casting the concrete. So, I try to finish with some lateral thoughts. "How else could we get food for everyone?" "MSF can provide it." "I mean besides that, because right now they cannot, they have chosen medicines instead of food and shelter." "We don't know, tell us." "How about you choose 3 or 4 people to represent you, and join me and some others in a weekly meeting to discuss the issues in the clinic, both yours and MSF's?" "Fantastico!" (This part of Somalia was formally an Italian colony, and some of the old men still speak some Italian.)

And so the Galcayo TB Clinic Patient Committee began. Little bump almost derailed the start of the process, as the committee started with "four people and one woman." "Excuse me, four people and one woman?" I strongly suggested that I would only continue this meeting once everyone acknowledged that we were meeting with five people (4 men and 1 woman), and they quickly got the point and agreed. (I think I will explain next week the MSF charter, "...regardless of race, colour, religion and GENDER!" We meet Monday's at 1000 and this maybe will be the start of something good. "Maybe" is a hard thing to follow through with in Somalia I'm finding, but every-so-often a "maybe" turns into "something," and that "something" cures someone, shelters someone, or feeds someone. "Maybes seem to be a big part of my life, but I believe they are a good use of my time these days, so why not, eh! We'll see what happens.

Leaving:
Over the last few days, I have been working long hours and little things have been more frustrating to me. It is clear that it is time for an R&R. I'm am in Nairobi now, and heading to Amsterdam tomorrow night for some training. Getting everything done, to last until I return in 19 days is tricky, but do-able. Yesterday, all major issues were handed over, and all minor issues are skillfully ignored, I was ready to go.

Karin, Jens and myself were heading out on a Khat flight. These are planes that bring in a stimulant called, "Khat" but return to Nairobi empty. We got three tickets booked and were ready. We arrived at the airport, Abdikarim processed our passports and pushed the tickets through the right people. Then we drove to the plane and stood around a bit while Abdikarim talked to the right people, then we were ushered onboard. On the plane, there were 2 seats at the front, and 3 at the back of the plane, with space in the middle for all the Khat (empty now). There were also 4 people onboard already. Hmm, 7 people, 5 seats. Seeing an opportunity to stretch out, I positioned my pack as a headrest and lay down to start my R&R. The pilot came onboard and walked right back off the plane, shouting, "only 5 people, I'm not taking off with any more. Get 2 people off!"

It seems that the ticket agent in Galcayo is not aware that the plane will only take one person per seat on the plane. This is a hard and fast rule, Monday to Friday. Saturdays and Sundays, there are less immigration officials in Nairobi, so they sometimes load the plane up, (we dont take those flights). So, here we were, overloaded, and the ticket agents (Abdikarim for us, and three other agents for the other four people) arguing the issue. Im glad Abdikarim doesnt yell, but said something and stepped aside. One agent came on the plane to take his client off, but she gave a little fight. It was a little tense, and I wanted to get off to let them go. I got up and the other Somali passengers said, get back down, this will be alright, well sort it out.

The agent came back and took the ladys belongings and pulled her arm and got her off the plane. I didnt like that. Women in Somalia are repressed a lot. It is horrible to witness the oppressive covering up all the time, abuses that are legal, discrimination in daily life, as well as female genital mutilations (FGM). To see this argument, made me feel like I was again witnessing something that I would like to change, but I am powerless by not knowing how.

Then there were 6 of us. I decided that I would get off, if the other lady was to be hit. I went to talk with Abdikarim about taking another flight. Once I stood up, people shouted at me to get down and leave it, but I didnt fear getting off the plane. Staying another night is a small thing.

Abdikarim told me things would be worse tomorrow, and then impossible Saturday. You have an international flight connection coming up, why are you doing this. Sit back down it will be sorted. (I think what he ment was, you are white and a man, you will get a seat.)

The agent came on board again, yelling at the other Somali woman. She started yelling back, and then once he was close enough, she hit him. YEAH, good shot! I though to myself. He recoiled to the fisted slap to his head and grabbed it in pain. She never flinched as he stood up straight again and composed himself. They stared for a moment then he punched the wall of the plane and walked away (one hand on his head and shaking his now injured fist too.) Ive never seen a woman hit a man here. Ive seen the opposite, but never thought this would happen. I am glad it happened in the plane, because if others saw it, I think he wouldnt have given up so quickly.

He returned and grabbed her belongings and yelled some more. She left the plane. The pilot came on-board, closed the door, apologised for the delay and we were off. There were a couple words spoken between us, but generally we were silence by the reality of what happened. Having a fight in front of us wasnt the issue. The issue was the underlaying reality. This was one more situation where the colour of our skin separated us from others. Our money and hired agent was more powerful than theirs. Our work is appreciated more in the community than theirs. Is it racism? I dont know. Maybe it is just the way things are. We could have stayed instead, but as Abdikarim says, it would be the same tomorrow, then we would have to do it all over again.

After the plane took off, we could lay out on the floor and sleep for the trip over southern Somalia. I read two pages of a book, then the soothing sound of the engines rocked me to sleep.

Im glad to be out.

Well, just some thoughts going on here now. Take care, lots of love,

Steve

P.S. I just finished reading two books by Waris Dirie, called "Desert Flower" and "Desert Dawn". Waris is a Nomad from Somalia who leaves Somalia for London and becomes a top model. She has since d0ne much work with the United Nations, advocating against Female Genital Mutilation (FGM), as it occurs in Somalia. This is an excellent book, giving a good insight into Somali, the Somali people and even some parts about Galcayo. I recommend this book, but caution anyone that reads it will appreciate their everyday lives significantly more afterwards.

Greetings from Sunny Somalia

stevedennis@egate.net (Steve Dennis) — Sat, 09 Apr 2005 12:22:00 +0000

08-04-05

Hello All, Greetings from Sunny Somalia!

I haven’t written in a while, many apologies.

Okay, what is going on here? Maybe that is a good place to start. Well, no story of Somalia is complete without a look into the politics. The politics here really determine the state of the country. A quick summary of the recent activites:

The 14th attempt to form a national government since the civil war in the early 1990’s has been the most successful yet, but has not worked completely.
Nairobi, December 2004, a President, Prime Minister and Cabinet were chosen and accepted by the roughly 290 members of the transitional government (who represent Somalia, more or less, by clan lines, warlord influence and previous political positions.)
The transitional government is trying to come back to Somalia, to start the process of governing a country without any working government for the last 13 years.
The previous capital of Somalia, Mogadishu, (Mog) is felt not safe for the government. The President is not from there, and many people in Mog do not want him around. As such, the President has called for the assistance of foreign peacekeeper troops to come in, to help stabilize the country as the government comes back.
There was much opposition to bringing in foreign peacekeeper troops into Somalia. Much of this opposition was from members of the parliament too.
President Yusuf had a parliamentary vote on the peacekeeper troop issue to appease the parliament.
The vote went against foreign troops, but Pres. Yusuf said, "we bring them in anyway." In a unpleasant manner, the transitional government in a hotel conference room in Nairobi, broke out into a large brawl, fist fighting, throwing chairs, and generally cutting hope of a political solution to this lack of leadership. (Kenyan news reporters filmed everything and it was all over the TVs in Kenya.) Good show boys!
Instead of going to Mogadishu, two other cities have been chosen to seat the transitional government, until the minds and hearts of the people are won over and Mogadishu becomes safe for them to return. These two cities are Baidoa and Jowhar. (Baidoa is approximately 150 kms northwest of Mog, and Jowhar is approximately 100kms north or Mog. Spellings change depending on the map you use.)
There is fierce opposition from some people that the government go anywhere but Mogadishu.
Approximately a week ago, Baidoa was taken by some of these forces which are against the government going anywhere except for Mogadishu.
Jowhar has been reinforced by pro-government groups. No fighting reported there yet. But lines are drawn and tensions have increased in Southern Somalia.
Other activities for and against the government are happening in other areas around Somalia.
These are interesting times here.

A note about the activities that are happening in Southern Somalia. Looking at a map of the country, it should be noted that these things are happening approximately 600kms away. Also, the space between that, and here, is not homogeneous and easily covered, but rather through a patchwork of clans and other areas of mixed loyalties. In other words, 600kms is a long distance. But, with MSF, much attention is spent on precautions, not being exposed to risks, so we are very conscious of what happens everyday in the south.

Now on to the work. The work goes slow.

Ah, Farah the driver just informed me that we must go. It is Friday, and the Friday prayer is most important for him not to miss. I'll be writing more soon, take care everyone.

Love,

Steve

"No, I haven't been to Somalia before, but I recognise it all the same."

stevedennis@egate.net (Steve Dennis) — Wed, 09 Mar 2005 14:52:00 +0000

So there I stand, toothbrush working away, in the right hand, water bottle in the left, sarong keeping me modest to the starry night, standing in front of the compound wall, doing my nightly choirs. I've seen this scene before. If I close my eyes... I can see the same scene in South Sudan...

The wind chills my back as I walk to the sorghum stock fence lining the compound in Pieri. The moon lights my way. I am grateful of its light, as I have learned not to step in the shadows (painful lessons stick the best.). I hear people at the water pump, pumping away, talking and joking, laughing, and playing. It is midnight, what are kids doing up at midnight, well, they are laughing, it must be good for them. The brushing continues.

I move up to the small mound so I can see over the fence; the moon has lit the area ahead of me, the path, the next compound, and all the way to the airstrip. "Bloonkk!" "Blauhonk!" Ah, the donkeys are going at it again tonight. (I've always wondered how you say, "I love you baby," in donkey.)

Slight tilt of the head back, chin up and lean forward. Armed with the remains of the battle between my oral micro-biology, and 'Colgate', I take aim and project at those damn termites that are eating the fence. I take a swig of water and attack other parts of the fence with a watered down version of my chemical weapon. I close my eyes... and I see further back to Sri Lanka...

I am the last one up again. I walk out of my tukel, toothbrush in my right hand, posed to do business to the remains of Silverani's wonderful curry dinner. Torch and waterbottle in the left. I head behind my tukel to the fence. The moon lights the night, but the palm trees hide me from the light . I turn on the torch briefly to ensure the path is clear (I've heard of people stepping on scorpions, doesn't sound nice) and it is clear, so I turn it off again to see the night again. "Mmmuoooowwwh" "Muooowh" Damn those cows are loud! Wonder what they are doing?

Tonight is the start of a poya-day celebration, and as such the (Hindu) temple nearby is playing loud loud music. (I don't understand this music. I don't understand why it is so loud either.) I hear people walking down the path, just on the other side of the palm leaf fence. I stop brushing and listen. They are talking clearly, two men, I can hear the words, but understand nothing, (as English still is my only language.) They move on, I brush on. I turn my torch on again, to locate that colony of ants which has harvested many parts of the fence. Tonight is payback time! I close my eyes... and I am back in Somalia...

Head up, chin raised, lean forward and project! Tonight, I'm just going for distance. There is nothing eating away our 2 foot thick, 9 foot high stone walls. No torch tonight, the moon is back. Wind chilling my back. "Baaah" "Baaah" a couple of goats communicating to each other a little distance away. (Did you know in goat, "Heyllloo Ladies" is pronounced, "Baaah". You can also use it for, "Where are you Mum?" and "Ok Kids, let's go!")

I hear a luffing sound and look up to see a string of plastic bags whipping in the breeze, trying to free themselves from the spiky fingers of the barbed wire. There are so many plastic bags around here. Today there was a wind, as there always is, but maybe it was a little more than usual. Anyway, I looked up to see, high in the sky, 30 to 50, maybe even 60 colourful birds, gliding in the air. Some were white, some blue, some er, ah, pink. WAIT a minute! Looking closer at the low ones, I could see those weren't birds as I know birds, thems was plastic bags, flying away to freedom, away from all the wire here in town. Funny stuff going on here. The wind started whipping the bags again on the wire, bringing me back to here and now, toothbrush in the right, water bottle in the left. I finish the rinse and go to bed. Pretty much as I've done most nights these last couple of years, give or take some minor details.

Steve

A little insecurity, and a lot of questions

stevedennis@egate.net (Steve Dennis) — Wed, 09 Mar 2005 14:50:00 +0000

04-03-2005

I guess this is how the emails started at one point.

It has felt like a while since I've written, even though it was just a few weeks +/-. Yes, I have found my feet here. Rising to the position of PC, has gone quite smoothly in fact. I think lots of my experiences in a 'chain of command' type of work has prepared me well. About a week ago, Jocelyne (the PC of the Galcayo North and Galcayo South Projects) was on vacation, so I took over her duties as well. Anyway, in that week there was a bunch of security related incidents, expat staff changes, an evacuation of the south team, and many other tricky events, all happening in that one week I was in charge. Everyone says I handled it very well, and, I think I agree. At no other time in my time here had we had any tricky incident, like all those combined. It felt good to handle the responsibility well. (I see my experience coming out, when newer people in the project are running around like mad, working on small things, when there is no 'emergency'. At times like those, I take my Fridays completely off, and make sure I get a little nap in the afternoon too. I think some people didn't like how I wouldn't work through the night, burning myself out, for small things. Then, when the week came when things were much busier, and much bigger things, many people were quite tired of the extra load, but I was able to use some of that reserve energy. Things like that are making me feel like I'm getting good at the game.)

I mentioned 'insecurity' above. What I mean by that is, there is a little tension in Somalia now, with the return of the exile Government. Also, the Government wants foreign peacekeeper troops to come in and assist in stabilizing the country. Some people don't want foreign troops. Anyway, there is some uncertainty here as to what will happen. Last week, there were some delegations from peacekeeping troop bodies (African Union, Arab League, etc) and the President and Prime Minister of Somalia, all visiting Galcayo. As such, we stayed in the living compound for a couple days. All the staff told us that there would be no problems and everyone in Galcayo welcomes the new Government and peacekeeping troops, but still we thought it best to hold back (actually orders from Amsterdam, but we agreed it would be alright, and things in the hospital and clinics would continue without us, alright.) It turned out that the delegation visits were very peaceful, and there was no increase in tensions in town too. Good to see. Fortunately, our staff is understanding of us, when we show signs of being very shy.
One more thing, we haven't been going to the internet cafe lately, and therefore I haven't been checking my mail there.

Things with the TB program are pretty difficult. The problems revolve around who to treat and who not to treat. TB treatment has to continue for 6 months, or else drug resistance will form. The problem is, we cannot (logistically right now) provide housing and food for people to stay in Galcayo. So, people who come for a handful of pills, then want to go home, cannot be admitted. Patients even promise to stay for 6 months (a Mother will promise anything when holding her 50% weight sick child), but then when he looks better, her other commitments (I have to care for my family back home) become a more pressing priority, they try to leave (or default from the program). As such, drug resistance may form, and TB will be harder to treat later. So, there are some difficult decisions about not treating some people because of the greater public health risk that that can cause. That is the biggest difficulty here, so much to treat, so little resources to treat with, and therefore a choice must be made. Fortunately, or unfortunately, I am somewhat removed from administering those choices to the patients. Irene, our TB Doctor does that. My job is to push the admission policy and the progress of the project. But, it is a small team, and I feel the difficulties too.

The other problem is, there are so many needs here. Just outside town, there are some IDP camps (Internally Displaced Persons Camps. Pretty much refugees that haven't crossed an international boundary.) These camps are in horrible conditions, yet nothing is, or will be done about them. There are thousands of people living there, with horrible water, sanitation, food, shelter, and health conditions. We cannot take on any more activities in our mission (MSF Holland), other sections of MSF are at their maximum capacity, and other NGO's aren't interested in Somalia. With the Tsunami, some attention did come to Somalia, (along with a small pile of money), but the needs we are seeing are far far greater than the Somalia tsunami needs. True, more than a hundred people died, and thousands were displaced, but there are hundreds dying of TB (for instance) in Somalia every month, and thousands displaced already.
Some of the team here are pretty upset that much WFP food was taken from our allocation, and sent to the coast. We are running vital feeding programs here, with hundreds of malnourished childred in the program, and much food was diverted to the coast, where much of the needs analysis didn't find needs. (We have seen some reports from a well known agency (but I keep the name to myself) about the situation in Somalia, detailing the impact of the Tsunami, but written completely from the desk. This was a theoretical report.

Also, on the road one day, we met a convoy bringing different delegates around. One was coming to Galcayo to see the hospital and talk with the other PC. We decided to travel with the convoy, and try to say hi to the Governor and some other delgates. Anyway, they stopped at the side of the road, near an IDP camp. All the cars emptied. The people gathered to hear the host say something like, "and this is one of the IDP camps. Horrible, horrible, needs are many, needs are great, put that in the report." A couple of questions were asked, then people loaded back up, ready for the next stop on the delegate tourist trail. The lady visiting the hospital arrived at 1300 and within 20 minutes had finished her, "in depth analysis of the health care facilities in Galcayo" and was on the road again. I bet a 30 page report will be made by that visit, and millions of Euros will be granted, or reduced, and sadly, our reports, written after years of in-the-field research will only receive what is left over from the next tsunami.
I have heard some reports from Nairobi that there is a pile of money for Tsunami relief, yet no one knows how to spend it, there isn't that much to do, and there are much greater needs elsewhere in the country. Frustrating I guess the word is.

This time here has shown me some things about the politics behind the aid money. The Tsunami efforts go along with this too. Politics and the media, control the money. Somalia, isn't a sexy place to invest in, and we see that everyday. In recruiting for the next expats to continue the projects, no one wants Somalia. In funding the TB project, we haven't got a donor yet, this is coming from MSF's emergency fund (for the undesireable corners of the world).
So, why am I here, what is it all about, what would be the answer to the problems here??? I don't know. I would like to know. Sometimes I think I know. Then something happens, and I realise, I don't know. I'm thinking though, that I would like to pursue some more education on knowing. Maybe get involved in the U of T Peace and Conflict Studies program, or other related topics. I see the complicated inputs to the situation here, and I want to have more tools to understand it.

A few years ago, when I was thinking of starting this journey, a driving force was, "not having the answers." Well, sitting around in Toronto, thinking about the answers to problems in a different world, wasn't getting me any closer to answering them. So, here I am. Unfortunately I'm not any closer to answering the problems, but at least I'm in the atmosphere of solving the problems, and where I am, makes me much more driven to answering them. (When stuck on a problem of how am I going to build something a certain way, I find by surrounding myself with the problem, some answers come out, not all, but enough. This works with cooking, woodwork, coastal navigation, and maybe with the meaning of life and relief work.)

As for my upcoming R&R, I am looking forward to it. I plan on going to Zanzibar again, as I enjoyed it the first time I went there, and this time I think I deserve it even more. (Well, deserve is a hard one to measure, but I will appreciate it.) I am hoping for 10 days out, but may not get it all, as the flight schedules are a little uncertain at the moment. I think the management team is impressed with my work, but maybe because of that, they want me to remain in. We see.

Funny that your school kids are asking your age Mom. People here are asking my age too. Last week when I was in charge of 12 other people in the three projects, I was sent an overview of all the expats in the mission. I was the second youngest of 30, but in charge of 12 others. In the TB clinic, when meeting with the national staff, they all were telling their ages, then the group went silent as the translator said, "now they all want to hear how many years you have. Abdulahi doesn't think you are old at all, and Mohamed Kafhar thinks you are the youngest here and asks should we still have you as a boss, if you are younger than everyone else. " "I'm 30, and yes I am still the boss." Fortunately, I have gained their respect after working with them, but it is a tricky starting off point.

Last week, another tricky situation occurred with regards to my age. We evacuated the South Galcayo team because of the changing climate in Somalia (security wise) and there wasn't a dedicated PC to spend the time to analyse the situation and carry on liaising with the elders. This will be a temporary evacuation, but Amsterdam and Nairobi pushed this. I was to deliver the news to the elders. Before the meeting, the elders and I were sitting down, without a translator. We had greeted each other, but without language. They started talking, and I could tell it was all about me. I heard some numbers and some other words I know now, but no comprehension of the conversation, beyond guessing. At one point they all laughed then looked at me. ("Okay, I know that was about me!" I thought out loud.) In my best Somali (which is more like verbs and nouns put together 2 or 3 at a time.) I said, "Please speak slowly." "My Somali is not good." "Little by little, I understand." "Thank you." They had a good laugh at that one, then their conversation sped up considerably, and I think,ever-so-slightly, their respect for the kid (me) grew. The meeting did get a bit heated as they thought MSF was stopping the hospital program, but with a lot of listening and a little Somali here and there, the end went well. I wonder if they will laugh at the next 30 year old through their way.

Well, it is Friday afternoon, and it is still sunny. I should go and do my laundry. (Funny thing here, the laundry ladies won't wash the most important clothing I have. So, Friday's we all get out our underclothes and do our own. No complaints about that, just odd to have a perfectly cleaned compound, bedsheets, room, other clothes, etc, but have to do a 5 minute washing.)
The Mosque is calling people to prayer again, it must be close to 1500 now. It will be odd being home, with no Mosque calling through the day, casualling informing the non-Muslims what time of the day it is.

Lots of Love,
Steve

Hello Mom and Dad, number 4

stevedennis@egate.net (Steve Dennis) — Mon, 28 Feb 2005 15:41:00 +0000

18-02-05

Okay, this letter is getting long, and I’ll send it soon. I have been reading over my last letters, and wondering if I’m drifting on issues. Most people ask me, “how are things here,” and, “what are my daily tasks,” but I have been most focused on what is happening in Somalia, than my daily routine. That is what consumes my thoughts, and this is just a recording of my thoughts, so I continue.

February 9th, as I said above, a journalist was shot in Mogadishu. Well, she died in the hospital from her injuries. All journalists have left Mogadishu afterwards.

Again, I point out that we are in Puntland, not the south of Somalia. Here things are much better, no public opposition to the Federal Government and no opposition to the foreign peacekeepers.

Yesterday, we received confirmed reports of another protest in Mogadishu, protesting the foreign peacekeepers. Also there was a bombing there, targeting an assessment group, for the upcoming African Union peacekeeping mission. We are concerned about what will happen to the Federal Government coming to Somalia, and the struggle that comes with it.

Right now, we are watching the events in Mogadishu very closely, as they may deteriorate, and influence us and the programs here.

As for the TB program: Things are going well, but I feel I am loosing a little focus in the priorities. It is becoming very obvious that there are many unmet needs for TB treatment in this part of Somalia. Everyday there are more and more reports of hard conditions patients overcome to participate in the treatment; and it is obvious that many of them will not be able to overcome those obstacles for the duration of their 6 month treatment. “We are getting many patients from _____ area. We must go there to assess the needs.” Came a fully agreeable comment from our MD. “Yes, we should go there, but it is inaccessible.” I would reply. “But if that is where the patients are, we must go!” “Sorry, we can’t” I feel like I am bringing down the wishes of the team, by voicing my thoughts on feasibility. There is an obvious trend that medical people don’t want to hear the problems, “we must address the needs!” and I’m bringing in the problems to why we can’t do this or that. So far I have met with agreement on most issues, but it is difficult. I think it is good to have the two sides of the argument, to keep the debate alive on treating patients, but it is difficult. “We must bring food to feed the patients. Treatment without food, is half-assed and not acceptable. Steve don’t tell me you are not willing to feed the patients!” “I see nothing more important. It is only a logistical issue. In the last shipment the hospital project had, 500 50kg bags were looted. It presents some logistical demands that I don’t think we can take on right now.” “But we try?” “We try.” It is a balancing act with more than two components. Medical needs vs access to patients vs staff capacity vs cultural considerations vs etc. I can see why other NGOs aren’t here. It is a difficult place to be.

Well, I should leave this off on a good note. A recent thing I’ve taken on. Jocelyne the PC in the Galcayo North hospital and the south Galcayo hospital projects is out for R&R now. I have taken over as the Security In-Charge of the projects in Galcayo. Looking around, I see that I’m comfortable in this role. I was wondering how I would like to be a Project Coordinator, and living with the hospital team, I have been under Jocelyne’s responsibility, security wise, so it hasn’t been an objective view. But, now that she is out, I find I am comfortable in this role, comfortable in the security analysis going on, and lastly and most importantly, comfortable that others have trust in my abilities. (Funny thing, with my birthday just passing, my age has finally come up. It turns out that I am the second youngest of 30 people in the MSF Holland Somalia mission, yet right now in charge of 13 of them. I think that really took the piss out of some people, but only by my age, we hope.)

Well, I still don’t know if I like it here. It is a difficult place to work, and I have questioned more here than elsewhere, why are we here? The medical needs are blindingly obvious, but it is only the ability to meet those needs that I find unquestionably inadequate.

We have an interm Head of Mission, as Colin (the regular one) is out on paternity leave. Tim (the interm HoM) asked if I would extend my contract. I have signed on for a 5.5 month contract (ending in June). I said no. I’m not ready right now to do that, for this place, for this project. I’m torn between those big medical needs, and my personal needs. This debate of inadequate meeting of medical needs doesn’t help resolve that issue. I think, unless things change a lot, I will come home in June, for another time between missions.

Okay, well maybe that isn’t the “good note” to leave off on, but this is a record of my thoughts, and that’s where they are.

Take care everyone. Lots of Love,

Steve

Hello Mom and Dad, number 3

stevedennis@egate.net (Steve Dennis) — Mon, 28 Feb 2005 15:38:00 +0000

10-2-05

Continued

I think our TB office (and clinic) is near the market. So far in one hour this morning, three guns have been “tested.” That is the term for describing one, or two shots, with no return fire. I don’t like it. There is some anticipation after the shot, to hear if there is return shooting. Bangggggg, there is another. Those last two are very loud, and low sounding. They sounded bigger than an AK. Blaahhh, there is a goat just outside our office blaahhhing away. There have been more guns tested lately. People are saying that some people in the south are buying more guns, or servicing their guns, getting ready for the next fight in the south. (In the south there are two sub-clans that fight a lot. It is 4-5 hours drive south of our project in South Galcayo, but still, we get involved in the clash response. Anyway, for today, no in-depth analysis, just noting more gun testing than usual.

I’m reading about the occasional fighting in Mogadishu these days. The transitional government is trying to go there, and there are heated debates about how, and who supports whom. There is debating about what peacekeeping forces can come, and how many. Some people don’t want outside peacekeepers to come. (In fact, there are many stakeholders in the equation of power transfer, or sharing. Some risk loosing power they have already, and they will resist African Union (AU) or United Nations (UN) peacekeepers to come with forces to neutralize their interests in a no government state.)

Recent politics in summary (Note, this is my understanding of the issue, know that I believe it is much more complicated than this): Somalia Government recently formed in Nairobi, after 2 years of peace talks, and selecting members of parliament. To incorporate all powers-that-be, there are approximately 250 members of parliament. Additionally, there are approximately 50 Cabinet ministers, a Prime Minister and a President. Roughly, this represents Somalia. The thing is, they are staying in Kenya, until the situation back in Mogadishu is stable enough to return to Somalia, and Mogadishu, as it is the capital.

It is a little more complicated though. The President and many other ministers aren’t liked in Mogadishu. As such, he has called for the help from foreign peacekeepers to intervene. Some governments have agreed to send troops, namely Ethiopia, Kenya, Djibouti, Yemen, Sudan and Uganda. Sounds fair enough, if things aren’t stable in the capital, send troops. But… it is a little more complicated than that.

The French, Italian and British divided Somalia up when they colonized it. The French had Djibouti, and allowed it to be its own country when the French pulled out. The British had three colonies of Somalia, and they separated them, giving one to Somalia, (in the north, called Somaliland). Another to the south, called the Ogadan, they gave to Ethiopia. And the one further south, they gave to Kenya. As for the Italians, they had the east coast portions, and left them to the Somalis. Looking how this influences today, well, Somalia has wanted its portion back from Ethiopia, for quite some time. Ethiopia has backed some militias in Somalia, in return for keeping it’s portion of Somalia (that is bridging many links together and summarizing it, but many people believe that is the link). It is more complicated than that, but that may be enough to know that with Ethiopian troops coming to Somalia to back their buddy the current President, (as they backed him when he was a struggling militia leader) there are very biased interests, (for example Ethiopia keeping its portion of Ethiopia) and there is very strong opposition to this foreign involvement.

If that isn’t complicated enough, let’s continue. There are memories of other international peacekeeping forces “helping out”. The last, and most famous, was in Mogadishu in 1992-3, where the UN and USA got involved, and left after sparking off a battle in the streets of the capital city, leaving more than a thousand Somalis dead, (also hundreds of UN dead, and a little more than a dozen US soldiers dead.) So, people are opposed to having Western peacekeepers here, but it goes deeper.

Somalia is a Muslim society, and the majority of the other surrounding states, are not. There are large populations of Muslims in all these countries, but the Governments sometimes are Christian based. The religious leaders don’t want non-Muslim troops helping out here. There is more.

There are many people making substantial amounts of money in this society. There are no formal taxes, port authorities, radio licenses, etc. As such, some smart businessmen are making a lot of money. Some strong people with the help of militias are making a lot of money. Some smart people with medical degrees, working in areas without regulations, are making a lot of money. And the Government may change all that. (You may ask what is all this wealth doing in Somalia? Well, the not-so-smart, or not-so-strong, or not-so-businesslike-minded, live quietly, and die quietly, as objections to the wealthy aren’t tolerated.) For the Government to come to power, it needs the support of all these powers-that-be, but to get support from the powers, the Government needs to show it is a worthwhile thing to have; tricky position to be in.

People opposed to the Government. Other people opposed to peacekeeping troops from Ethiopia. Other people opposed to any foreign peacekeeping troops. The Government has much work to do.

-----------

Yesterday, Feb 9th, we had a rumour of a journalist being injured (unsuccessfully targeted) in Mogadishu. It is thought this is related to the opposition to foreign troops coming in.

So, I would say that tensions have risen a little. Maybe just the impression of tensions has risen, but all the indicators of tension rising are just normal things, coincidentally happening at the same time. Regardless, we keep an eye out, an ear out, and heads down. The National Staff say there is no problem at the security meeting this morning. Maybe I’ll talk individually with some people today about things to get a more in depth opinion.

Fortunately though, we are in the stable province of Puntland. Puntland is the province on the top Northeast Corner of Somalia, extending down to Galcayo. Puntland, under the leadership of (current Somalia President) Yusuf (and the support of the Ethiopian Government) has been very stable, sporting its own government, and police force. Also, since the population in Puntland is all from the same tribe, it enjoys more security than other divided sections of Somalia. There is limited influence from more extremist Islamic groups as well. The tensions in the south, in Mogadishu, are not here in Galcayo. People in Puntland, mostly, embrace the Federal Government, as they have embraced the Puntland Authorities.

Enough for now, goodnight,

Lots of Love,

Steve