Happy Birthday, baby country!

The first 2 weeks of July are busy ones around here!  South Sudan celebrated its first year of independence on July 9, 2012, and I was so fortunate to be here in the country.  I had asked my friend Richard to take me out, but he (along with half the rest of the population in Juba) decided to stay home and watch the parades on t.v.  Not exciting enough for me, so my kawaga friends and I walked about 8 hours - over to Freedom Square to see the celebrations.

Juba had been decorated all of the days leading up to the event - with big and small South Sudanese flags all over fences and cars and different roundabouts throughout the town.  It's hard to describe the feeling of elation shared among people on the streets as we walked.  Everyone was full of joy beyond joy - cars honking, police sirens, people shouting, singing, and all sorts of makeshift musical instruments.

Once we arrived at Freedom Square, crowds were milling about - everyone shaking hands and slapping each other on the shoulder.  We did have to walk through a metal detector to get into the square - but I'm not sure if there would have been any action taken if we had had been dangerous.  Lots of police were available - some of them drunk, others not - several friends got stopped as we tried to take photos, but nobody seemed to care at the end of the day.

There were so many cultural groups performing local dances - we almost didn't know where to look!  Lots of ladies and men in traditional dress, really looking incredible.  There was a parade of military tanks, soldiers, and the biggest guns I've ever seen - definitely a huge show of power on the part of the government.  We weren't really able to hear speeches taking place by world leaders, but the grande finale was two helicopters that flew over the crowds - waving and tossing out pamphlets highlighting South Sudan's epic history of independence.

There have been a lot of articles about how little South Sudan has accomplished in its first year as a country.  A lot of bullshit articles in my opinion.  How long does it take to build a nation?  Well, for the U.S. it's been over 400 years.  Kenya received its independence over 50 years ago, and look at how far it has come.  That world of 50 years ago was completely different than the world is now.  South Sudan has more to do to catch up to the rest of the planet - and they are making an incredible start.  Of course there is far to go - ministries, basic service delivery, infrastructure, stability, nationbuilding - all of these things take both time and resources.  I have rarely been so inspired by a country's determination for freedom and self determination as I have here.  Here's to many, many more July 9th celebrations!

First fashion show

One way to know your country is moving up in the world is when they have their very first fashion show.  I've never been to a fashion show, except the ones I attended with Carrie and Charlotte over many years of SATC.  This was slightly different.  The event was supposed to start at 6 p.m., so Liv and I showed up at 7... we waited about 2 more hours until the event really started.  It was called Fashion for Arts & Peace in South Sudan - and it was fully Tim Gunn fabulous.

The models were all at least 6 feet tall - both men and women.  The women wore dresses and slacks and jumpsuits, tank tops, blazers, skirts, shorts - I haven't seen such short skirts the whole time I've lived here in South Sudan!  It was more than just a fashion show - as there were singers and poetry slams in between the various designers.  Many of the designers were from Nairobi, but one designer was from South Sudan.

There was an opportunity to purchase clothing the next day, and in following weeks from each of the designers.  This is the kind of event that makes me remember - South Sudan really does have an incredible amount of talent and commitment to the arts.  Nobody should say people here are lazy or incompetent - they have the skills, and they're moving up in the world - not a doubt about it.

Going to church

I was at dinner with some friends, who were comparing notes on who has actually interacted socially (not for work purposes) with a South Sudanese woman.  Women can be really hard to find - as most are married or they are outside the country completing their studies.  I realize this is a gross generalization, but I was shocked when I was the only person who had met a South Sudanese woman out socially.  This is partially because just about all we expats do is work and party with each other.  Sad.  There is a huge divide between national folks and diaspora and expatriates - it's socio-economic, it's cultural, and it's so, so, SO wrong.  The more I thought about social interaction, the more I realized - the other part of this is that I go to church regularly - I would never have so much opportunity to meet people without this experience.  I want to talk about this - since it's both meaningful for me, and it may give you some insight into the culture:

Every Sunday at 9:30 a.m. (ok, it's more like 9:45) I walk to church - it takes me about 20 minutes, and I have to pass by several boda boda drivers who zoom by me like they're going to knock me over, as well as herds of cattle, goats, little kids, and a couple of kiosks where the men hiss at me.  I hate being hissed at.  Anyway, pass the bridge, right before the stadium, take a left, then another left and you're at Nile Riverview Community Church.  We meet in a container which thankfully has two a/c units and a door at the front and the back (in case I really leave at 9:55).  I try to be there early (thanks to my parents for instilling this in me:  never, ever, ever be late for church), and I always greet my friends the pastor, the elder, and the music guys.

We normally start on time, which is amazing, and even more amazing - we end on time!  I won't say that I chose this church for how short the service is (2 full hours), but I won't tell you that wasn't one of the determining factors - the Episcopals and Pentecostals take at least 4 hours each.

My favorite part of the service is the welcome message- Stephen (the MC) always asks, "Who do we have here from England?  Australia?  US?  Burundi?  Kenya?  Uganda?"  and so on, until we've reached all the countries represented by our little group.  One week we had over 15 countries!  We always clap for each country, and Stephen tells us, "I know you are far from home - you may be feeling that this is a very hard place, a place where you don't know friends.  Maybe you are even thinking, 'Today I will pack up my bags and go home.'  But I want to tell you - here, you are among friends.  Here, feel at home."  Even remembering this speech gets me choked up - the creation of community through mere words.

Then of course there is worship and offering, prayer and sermon time.  This week, Martin (the elder) brought all those who have family members who are sick to the front, and prayed for us together.  Sometimes we sing songs in kiswahili, but most are in English.  Sometimes the piano player is not there - and we have to have a stand-in.  Sometimes the a/c units don't work.  Sometimes they run out of bulletins.  Sometimes I feel too tired to go to church, but every Sunday this place is a blessing.  Being in community with believers is precious to me.

Gate-Crashing

There's something very special about being with your own country-people overseas.  I love all people - truly, but it's different being with people who talk with the same intonation and make the same kind of jokes.  I love being American - but ironically I don't have too many American friends over here in Juba.  Being overseas for Fourth of July is a truly unique experience - and one that is special to me.  I've celebrated the Fourth in Gulu before, and also in Harare - Americans come together to share in celebrations, but we also welcome others to celebrate with us.  We poke fun at the Brits, thanking them for the opportunity to celebrate our independence, and generally try to eat hamburgers (or at least I do).

I had just arrived back in Juba on July 3, and realized that I had no plan - now, in Juba you always have to be on a list in order to get into a party.  It's because of security reasons, but it feels very exclusive.  Imagine that level of security for house parties, and then multiply it exponentially to think of how much security you would find at an Official event.  So, my friends told me they couldn't get me onto the list - it was closed 2 days earlier, and no exceptions.  Well.  I figured there might be a problem like this, and would have been perfectly happy to attend Talent Search South Sudan (more to come on this later), but I met another American reject, and we decided that we should at least try to get in.

Now, Greg wanted to have a strategy of how we would approach this - I really prefer to wing it, but at least we agreed that we are Americans, and therefore deserve admission to this party.  We were first met by a fierce (and large) female guard.  She did not want to see us, and did not want us to get in (even when I flashed my US passport, she was unimpressed).  So we made a plea to the security manager (also South Sudanese), who said the list has been taken inside and they don't have access to it.  Well, claiming we were on a list that wasn't even available..... ok, so then the security chief disappeared back inside (I assumed to go find the list).  Then came out two Americans, and I knew we were in.  We smiled and talked college football, and they were completely welcoming.  I think both the feeling of being an outsider and being warmly welcomed are things that typify America.

Of course the gentleman who kindly admitted us to the party is the ambassador's right hand man, so we immediately met the ambassador, and thanked her for allowing us to join.  Then we worked our way over to the dance floor (really just to take a picture), but Madam Ambassador broke it down with us for a few minutes.  It was a great moment, and a great evening - so good to be with my people.  Thanks, America.

Talent Search South Sudan 2012

American Idol has come to South Sudan - it's really an incredible phenomenon.  Vivacell is a local mobile phone company who has been sponsoring this contest over the past 4 weeks.  I believe we started out with 24 contestants, and last night was the grand finale.  The best part is that everyone is invited to a live recording of the event (completely free of charge), and sometimes they toss free t-shirts out to the crowd!!

You have your three judges (one lady, two gents - one is Simon Cowell-esq), each contestant does a different song each week.  We hear everything from Tupac to Eminem to Nigerian artists, even a few local artists.  The songs are truly terrible.  No one can carry a tune, and almost no one has any rhythm.  It's not a good situation.  Plus you have the lights catching on fire (not kidding), people walking up on stage to give the performers money, microphones shrieking every time someone uses them, judges speaking too softly to be heard.  It's basically everything that can go wrong with an event, all rolled into one evening.


Out of all the contestants - there are only two women.  One is a true African Mama - she dresses traditionally, and always sings traditional songs - we love her!  The other is like South Sudanese Shakira - she wears these outrageously stylish outfits (seriously, where do you get those clothes in Juba?  I need to know where she shops), and works the dance floor.  Most of the male contestants dress like rap stars - seriously blinged out necklaces and belt buckles, chained wallets, flat-brimmed hats, saggy jeans, converses - the works!  They would put my little brother to shame in his gangsta style.

Last night was the final episode of TSSS, and while I was off partying with the other Americans - I'm told there was extra security (police + guns), but not even enough security.  Here's her account of it:
"There were policemen with guns, and I wondered what they were doing there until I saw how the audience got too excited. Then I actually wished that there were more policemen. There were too many people inside this time and when the audience got too excited it was both fun and scary.
A lot of them tried to get up on the stage. One lit fire to a spray can and almost "blew fire" on one of the contestants. So when they had announced the winners and people started running out on the stage I asked if we could leave. When we drove off we saw people running around with the winner's check and others started fighting."

Yes, you read that correctly - someone stole the winner's check for 10,000 South Sudanese Pounds (currently about $2,000).  So wrong!  and yet it feels like an appropriate ending to such a hilarious event.  I hope we will have another talent search!

Acholi wedding video!

found here:  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KFnfawGPbgU&feature=share

You can see a brief cameo of yours truly at 13:35 or so... this is really what an Acholi wedding feels like!  It takes days upon days, and you really do have to crawl into the hut, keep your eyes down, not be disturbed when the women come and stare at you.... haha, it's great!

Croissants and Culture shock

I came home for a weeklong work visit.  I came home to check in with my management team (yes, it takes a whole team).  I came home to attend a conference.  I came home to get some respite from Juba.  I came home to surprise my family.  I came home because we always get a break at 3 months.  I came home because I could.  I missed 2 epic parties, saying goodbye to one of my best Juba friends, and a chance to visit my friend's home village.  I spent 40 hours in transit from Juba to DC.  I ate thousands and thousands of calories (mostly in hamburgers), saw over 40 friends, spent over $2000, and cried more tears than I thought possible.

Why this emotional upheaval?  Well, let's go through the checklist:  Jet lag is a bitch, but this time it didn't hurt quite as much as I expected it to.  All my bags made it safely, and none of my gifts were broken.  On the flights, I wasn't seated next to anyone smelly, sick, or loud (this includes babies).  There was one fatty who was also drunk, but I'll take what I can get.  My parents were happy to see me, saw my best friends in the whole world, got to hang with 3 of my 4 brothers... I got a pedicure and LOADS of gossip from my friends, great hugs all around, a couple of happy hours - this honestly is the best week I could have asked for.  So why do I feel like I'm walking around in a cloud of self doubt?

I think my Aunt Chris put it best, "People want to know about your life overseas for all of 7 minutes."  This week was surreal - half the time I was comparing life in DC to life in Juba, and the other half I was thinking - in 3 days I'll be back in South Sudan, in 2 days I'll be back in South Sudan...  It's hard to go shopping when people who live right around me in Juba are sleeping under grass roofs.  It's hard to know that $60 for that dress at Gap (seriously, every dress at Gap costs $60) could pay for a family's meals for a month in Juba.  It's hard to be confronted with suffering, with no real outlet for these emotions.  You would think it's hard to live that way in Juba - like, why isn't it just as hard to brush my teeth there, knowing that the boda boda drivers are using sticks to brush their teeth?  Well, it is hard - but the contrast in the U.S. is so much stronger.

The last day I was home, we had a huge electric storm - with power getting knocked out all over the commonwealth of Virginia.  People were SO afraid of these 100 degree temperatures - without air conditioning, what would they do?  And I thought, "This is exactly what people in Juba deal with on a daily basis.  But they haven't had the privilege of education, fuel, or a full belly."  ugh.

I went through the week looking at people like their heads were screwed on backwards, or maybe like I was viewing them from underwater.  Maybe someday this culture shock thing will not hurt quite as much, but today-- it hurts.  It makes me scared to come back to D.C. in August, and it makes me scared to keep up this lifestyle of travel.  I thought I was invincible, but reality eventually catches up to us all.