Author: dangieschen

Finding something to eat in Northern Bahr El Ghazal is always very challenging. On our initial trip in July, we pretty much ate beans and rice at every meal. This time we decided to go to the market and select our own food. We then convinced the hotel cooks to prepare the meals for us and paid them separately for the work.
The market had a small selection locally grown food. We got pumpkin, eggplant, different kinds of greens, tomatoes and cucumbers. It was awesome coming back from the field each day to a delicious dinner that was something other than beans and rice.

Everything was working beautifully until one day the cooks had a dispute over who was cooking and how the money was divided. After that, the food started coming out cold and not well prepared. I was nervous about having people who were not happy preparing our food, so we abandoned that plan decided to go back to eating beans and rice in town.
We knew we weren’t staying at a Four Seasons, but as the days progressed our hotel became increasingly taxing. I tried to make the best of things but some days it was hard. We brought our own sheets and towels but it was still a real challenge. The US health department would have shut them down by American standards. The place was unbearably hot; there was no toilet paper half the time, a dirty, leaky bathroom (ironically), and beds with no mosquito nets, just to name a few things. On top of this, it was expensive. But there was nowhere else to stay. Breakfast was included in the price. It consisted of tea and bread, and they were usually out of either one or the other.
One day we met a veterinarian from Vets without Borders. He had lived in Somalia for 30 years and was doing some fieldwork in the area. We became fast friends when I shared an extra tea bag and some bread with him after the hotel told him they had nothing for his breakfast. I enjoyed talking to him about his work and was disappointed when he informed me the hotel was too awful for him to stay and he had contacted a friend from another aid organization and was going to stay in their compound. I realized I would need to make some friends of my own, and quickly.
There was a small fridge in the room with a freezer that worked overnight, when the generator was running. Every night I would freeze bottles of water so we’d have cold water for a couple of hours in the morning. The ones I left in the freezer during he day would remain cold until we got back from the field in the afternoon, even though the power was off during the day. Honestly, that cold water seemed like the best thing in the world when we came in exhausted and dirty at the end of the day.
I also paid a lady to heat me water every night for showering. Otherwise, the water from the tap was pretty dirty and cold, so it was difficult to feel clean.
The hot water for bathing and cold water for drinking are maybe the two things that kept me sane at that hotel. We’re definitely going to need to set up our own small compound there soon.
Each day before heading off to the field, we would fuel up the truck from a roadside stand that sold jugs filled with gas. The attendant would siphon the fuel into a hose with his mouth and then put it into the truck.

Midway through the second week I decided I didn’t trust our truck anymore. We had broken down several times and were traveling deeper and deeper into the villages. I felt we needed a more reliable vehicle and asked George to find someone else in town who would rent us something better. I felt bad firing Dut, since he’d already been driving us for over a week, but this was not personal. We just couldn’t risk breaking down in these remote areas.
Thankfully, George found us an alternate vehicle that day. We were traveling with the Director of Education for all of Aweil East County, which included 128 schools. We had just left a school and were driving on a remote dirt road when our new truck completely quit. Despite cajoling a number of people to help us push it, our efforts were useless. We had one bottle of water left and the heat was excruciating. There were no other vehicles traveling on the road and no cell reception. We were completely stranded.

Although we had airtime in our satellite phone, we couldn’t think of anybody to call. The driver tried his friends but they didn’t have another vehicle available. People around these parts just don’t have personal cars and trucks. If you’re lucky, you have a motorcycle. The education director didn’t even know anybody we could call. After weighing all of our options, we realized our only choice was to call our original driver, Dut. By this point it was around 3PM and he was not happy about the idea of driving several hours to pick us up. But he reluctantly agreed. Then we sat at the side of the road waiting, and waiting, and waiting. We were there for five hours total, with one bottle of water, which seemed ironic.
The five of us moved from truck, to shade tree, back to truck. I fantasized about all of the cold things I would drink when I got back to civilization. But everybody remained calm and just tried to make the best of things. I got the feeling that the situation was not new to any of the others. The Education Director even commented that I was really getting see how people struggle.

We did, however, meet some very interesting people while we were sitting there. We shot interviews about the water crisis with people walking by and did our best to pass the time. Every now and then somebody would get the urge to try to push start the truck again, and we’d all give it a go. But in the end, it was Dut to the rescue, just as it was about to get dark.
We finally got back to Aweil Town, at about 10:00, starving and exhausted. We searched for somewhere to get dinner but everything was closed or else all their food was gone. I had a package of pasta in my bag, so we found someone who agreed to boil it for us. For dinner that night we had plain pasta poured onto a large, shared platter that we ate with our fingers. But it was delicious.
For me some weeks are easier than others, and this one had its fair share of challenges. That said, it’s tough to complain, because for the people who live here this week was not really too different from any other week.

The more time I spend in the field, the more I realize just how fortunate I am and how much I take for granted as a basic human right.   Most of the suffering in this region is the result of decades of war and it’s going to take some time, and international assistance, for these communities to get back on track now that the country has their independence.  The biggest issues are access to water, no roads, poor education and lack of healthcare.  People die from everyday things that should not be fatal.   The maternal mortality rate is outrageous and children under the age of five easily succumb to illnesses and die.
One day when we were in the field we saw this man and wife walking down the road, in the blazing mid-day sun, carrying their lifeless daughter (about 7 years old).   The little girl was delirious with malaria and they were walking several hours away to a clinic, so she could receive treatment.  I’ve never seen anybody with that condition.  She was imagining things that were not happening and crying out.  Her eyes were bulging out.  We gave them a ride.  When we got to the clinic, it was a thatched shack with an intravenous drip and a bed.  There was already somebody being treated, so her family had to wait.   So many kids around here die everyday of malaria and I really hope we were able to get her there in time.

Some days the task seems so enormous that I wonder if we are even making any difference at all.  It’s hard not to get discouraged when you see such suffering everywhere.  At times it feels like we are just a “drop in the ocean.”   But water is a major issue and we ARE helping with that.   We can physically see our impact and although it may seem small by comparison, it’s not small at all to the people who need it.  To them, it’s huge.
Each of the boreholes we’re going to install at the schools in Northern Bahr el Ghazal will provide water to 2500 people, but this number represents the population now. This amount will dramatically increase when the returnees come.  It’s also good that we’re focusing on schools and existing communities since pretty much everybody else is dealing with the returnee emergency.
Because of this, we were really welcomed by the other organizations.   We were given the opportunity introduce ourselves a number of times in large meetings and were asked to make a presentation on our sanitation system three times.
For all the frustration that comes from the enormity of the situation, there are these wonderful people from the international NGOs up here working so hard to help out.  They all collaborate and work well together, sharing information, resources and ideas.  I think it helps to keep everyone from going crazy!
One person helped us convert our budget to reflect the prices in the region.  Materials costs are 200% higher than in other areas we work, if they are even available at all.   We heard stories about people waiting three weeks for cement to arrive.  Most things are imported from Kenya or Uganda.
We’re also partnering with a wonderful community organization who has funding for hygiene training.  They will take on this part of our program until we get our team in place for that.  They are very experienced and know the region well.
By the last few days in Aweil, I was ready to get back to Juba.   We were up super early everyday to get to field and see just one school before they let out at midday.  It was two weeks of hot, hard work and we were dirty and exhausted.   I was literally covered in mosquito bites.
Finally, toward the end of our stay, we found another lady in town to cook for us.  She seated us at a small table outside her dilapidated shack where she served us delicious local food she cooked over an open fire.
Sitting there in the evenings, I began to realize how many homeless street children there are in Aweil Town.  I had seen several of them sleeping on shop verandas during the day but thought they were the exception.  They were not.   As we sat there each night, we met the most charming, witty, smart, dirty, young homeless street kids. They were mostly boys, but there were a few girls.  They seemed to really look out for each other.   Although their situation was super heartbreaking, they entertained us with their humorous interactions, Michael Jackson moves and made up songs. I think some of them may have, unfortunately, been a little bit tipsy from something. But most were trying to make the best of things and were just being kids. We ended up buying dinner for some of them most nights.  We’d start with two or three and then word would get around and others would start coming.  They would share plates of beans and rice and were surprisingly diligent about washing their hands before eating.  Maybe they were happy to have the opportunity to use some soap and wash up.
Although it’s hard living, exhausting work and unsanitary living conditions at times, Northern Bahr el Ghazal is one of the most needy places on the planet — and knowing the situation, we can’t turn away and leave them.  So we are just going to have to figure out a way to make things a little more bearable because we have a lot of work to do there and this is just the beginning.
We returned to Juba just in time to bid on a Land Cruiser that UNICEF was auctioning off.   We also spent the week dealing with NGO business at the ministries.
One day when we were having lunch this crazy older man came into the restaurant ranting.   He was speaking Arabic and I couldn’t tell exactly what he was saying but he seemed like an insane homeless man.  I was surprised when several other men in the restaurant not only showed him a lot of admiration, but at one point they all started engaging him in songs, which they all seemed to know. The spectacle was so interesting and it worked in calming him down.   I later learned that he was a very well respected general who had led one of the original battalions of the South Sudan revolution, in the early 1980s.   Most of the people in the café seemed to overlook him as they checked their Facebook pages and enjoyed their lunch.   Although the years of war had taken their toll on his mind, those former soldiers of the SPLA had definitely not forgotten him.   He told the men that every month when he receives his military salary he buys soda, water and beer that he pours on the grave of the late Dr. John Garang, the leader of their revolution.   It’s clear that he wishes his old friend could be here today to see how people are enjoying the freedom and liberty for which they had fought and sacrificed their entire lives.