OK here we are again – new year new try! Hopefully this time I will be a bit more consistent in my comments. Consistency belongs to the things that if they were sold in a supermarket, I would buy the lot! Any suggestions out there how to acquire consistency otherwise? Because I need some!!!!
Anyway, I do have a good starting story this year though, which will keep me bloging for at least some time as I spend my summer in Rumbek – temporary capital of southern (New) Sudan. A country that formally doesn’t even exist. While others spend their holidays on a beach trying to get as much sun as possible, I spend them in the fourth world trying to improve the situation (or at least pretending to try – not that I seriously think I could change something) and avoiding the sun as much as possible.
And as the entertainment industry of Southern Sudan isn’t particularly well developed I decided to entertain myself by writing a little weekly newspaper which you will have now the honour of reading. OK I admit, its slightly delayed by 2 month but to keep a blog updated was simply to expensive via satellite modem. However to make up for this rather time-delayed publishing I will also add some commented photos of my journey after each weeks article.
But enough of an introduction, lets start our virtual journey into a world that for most people in the west simply doesn’t exist.

Flight over the Kenyan/Sudanese border. Until recently this border was
virtually impassable because of the civil war in Sudan. For about 20 odd
years the people of Southern Sudan have been practically cut of the rest of
the world. It is a journey into the unknown - for me as the traveller just as much
as for the people there.

Weekly Standard Sudan – week one

Ok, Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Rumbek! How are you? I hope fine.
For a start I will try to give you some kind of description about the place, or to be precise, about the two places you will find in Rumbek. The 21st century world of the NGOs as well as the church, and the medieval world of the people around. My place, the Jesuit ‘Peter Claver Mission’, belongs to the 21st century world. This means I’m accommodated in a newly build brick house – secure atrium architecture – with almost everything you could expect. Electricity generated by a solar panel, capable of powering lights (German low energy bulbs – the ones you cannot find in the UK), a plug for each room, the water pump (filling the water tank above so we have running water in each room + shower ect.), a television complete with video and DVD recorder. In short just like a good holiday camp. Indeed the food I am getting here is probably healthier, tastier and offers more variety than my usual diet in Oxford – that’s what you go to Africa for, isn’t it?). The only problem is that I came totally ill-equipped. In my ‘I’m off to the jungle paranoia’ I took cloth for a month-long expedition – which is completely unnecessary, as I get my things cleaned each day by our ‘three women’ – when I should have brought some technical equipment, such as my notebook. Because this would have been the one item, which could really boost my productivity. But then, I got one from the mission now, so even this isn’t really a problem. And as I came here to learn, my first lesson was that all this fear about Africa is completely exaggerated – presumably to increase the salaries of UN workers here, but more about this next week.
Well, let’s shift to the second world of Rumbek – the one much harder to describe. Just try to forget about everything you know about your (our) world. Imagine a huge, flat junk of half jungle (humid Savannas to be precise) – beautiful mahogany and palm trees, a variety of bushes I don’t know the names of, a fascinating whether – at the time of this writing a massive tropical thunderstorm pores down - with flashlights that could supply the hole country with more electricity than they ever could use – a night sky with more stars than I have ever seen. Can you picture this? Then imagine some huts build out of a meter high mud-wall (circular with a radius of about 1.5 meters) and a roof out of dry grass. Scatter some of these huts (a few hundreds, maybe a thousand) over an area of approximately 25 square-miles, put some tracks – along the lines you would find in a off-road training area – in between, add about two, three dozen bombed out stone ruins (some of which are being rebuild right now) and some shapeless agricultural plots – far too small to be able to ever feed anyone – primarily for sweet corn. Finally place around 20 NGO compounds, just like our house – all of course fenced and guarded, with all sorts of communicational parabolas and antennas – an airport, consisting out of a mud runway, but frequented very highly (at least 20 flights a day – mostly UN Hercules planes), a lot of UN jeeps, that always drive around, but never seem to do anything. If you can imagine this, and to be honest I couldn’t if I hadn’t seen it, then you have an Idea about where I am. And in this chaos, without any sanitary installations, electricity, no architecture there are hundreds, thousands of people. Some dressed reasonably smart in western clothes, others in rags, children usually mud-covered and half naked (mostly children by the way) some carrying their Kalaschnikovs, some trying to sell food rations, cigarettes or Chinese bikes – that is the luxury item that is affordable to at least a decent number of people around here.
And still, all these people in their misery seem to laugh a lot more than the people at home!
Have a good day!