Petra and Rum and Aqaba

This past weekend was Memorial Day in the US, and our office was closed from Friday - Sunday.  My friend Alisha had planned a low-budget, adventure-filled weekend for her husband who was visiting, and they let me tag along.  We took a bus from Amman to Wadi Mousa, which is the town where Petra is located, spent the day in Petra, then the next day headed to Wadi Rum, camped in Bedouin tents, and finally spent an afternoon in Aqaba before taking the bus back to Amman.

Also known as the Rose City, Petra was discovered about 50 years ago by European hikers, and archeologists have since discovered the huge ruin of a city built by the Nabateans and conquered by the Romans.  You may recognize Petra more from Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade than its historical context - I believe it's where he found the holy grail, and the chotchkis are everywhere.  Petra covers a huge area - you could hike your way through there for days and days, get lost, find your way, and get lost all over again.  After the three hour bus ride, we got to Petra along with all the other tourists in Jordan - so we had to fight our way through the crowds to get down to the Treasury, but by the time we got to the amphitheater, the crowds had dispersed a bit.  My favorite part of Petra is the set of houses that you see after the amphitheater - they are so beautiful carved into red stone.  After these houses, we hiked up all 950 steps to the Monastery in the heat of the day!  I do not recommend going during this time - we all got dehydrated, but it was worth it to sit under the shade at the top of the monastery and take a short nap. 

The next day we drove down to Wadi Rum, where we took a jeep tour of Lawrence of Arabia's desert.  Now if you're independently minded like I am, you might wonder why you need a jeep to go hiking.  Did you ever see Lawrence of Arabia?  That desert is huge!  Trying to walk from stop #1 to stop #2 would be a disaster, and we would have gotten extremely lost and dehydrated on our way.  Thankfully, Mohammed took pretty good care of us, and showed us a number of different sites, explained some of the history, fed us in the shade at lunchtime, and didn't even tease us for wimping out of a 3 hour hike at the hottest part of the day.  My favorite part of the weekend was sleeping in the Bedouin camp - Mohammed cooked us an amazing dinner (something involving a chicken smoked in a pit buried under sand), and we watched the stars blink while the full moon rose.  I also don't remember when I've slept so soundly - there is something about the sun, moon, and stars that brings tranquility.

The last day of our adventure was a letdown - suffice it to say that while the Red Sea is exquisitely beautiful (the color of a sparkling sapphire), the public beaches are not even somewhere I would go on spring break in high school.  We got a bottle of wine and burgers to celebrate Memorial Day, rode the 4.5 hour bus ride back to Amman, and were happy to be back 'home.'

 

the misadventures of Jonglei

My job sent me into the wilds of South Sudan to do research on education - I can honestly say this was the most wild and fun African bush trip I've ever taken.  We hired a Jonglei expert who turned out to be also just a great person to travel with.  Who would have guessed that a simple 5-day jaunt to ask questions about education needs in remote communities would have turned into such a trip?  Welcome to South Sudan.

Andy (our consultant) helped figure out the travel route - we were headed to Waat, then to Duk Padiet, and onward to Bor - with a few stops along the way.  It's funny to see how people pack differently for this kind of trip - Andy brought coffee and peanut butter, Pete brought whiskey and books, and Mike brought dried mangos and an iPod.  I was probably the least prepared, meaning I had granola bars, toilet paper, a headlamp, and a pocket knife.  At least we all had books to read by the dim headlamp lights.  It's funny the things that field people are impressed with - Andy was eager to compare all of our field pants - whose breathed the best, repelled water, and kept out the sun.  Mike was very concerned with the hat situation - he had an Indian Jones hat, while the rest of us went a more traditional route.  (I like the scarf & sunglasses, Pete went with a baseball cap, Andy had a light hiker hat from Patagonia)

It was the very beginning of the dry season when we were there (February), so the roads which are normally rivers in the rainy season were just drying out.  The first hurdle was our car not arriving to pick us from the airport, but thankfully our host organization loaned us a vehicle.  Our car showed up 2 days late, covered in mud from tire to roof, with the back windows busted out, mud tires bald, and extra fuel stolen out of the boot.  Oh, and the exhaust pipe was barely hanging on.  I would show you a picture, but I couldn't capture from one angle the sad story that was our car.

I love being in the field for the raw, simple life that you live there. Every meal is rice & beans, maybe add some chicken or goat, bucket showers to wash off all the dust and sweat of the day, sleep under the beautiful, beautiful stars, in bed by 10 every night, and awake with the roosters.  Of course it's easy to idealize it after you have left, but there is something beautiful about the simple life.  It's the reason when I come home from a long trip, I try to toss out the excess of my life.

Well, after a couple days in Waat, we were driving onward to Yuai - but we had to drive through a swamp to get to Padjiet and pick up the fuel that had been stolen and then recovered.  A bunch of kawajas can't just roll up to a town, though - first we got stopped by the SPLA, who wanted us to take them to town along with their giant kaleshakov, which is very much against the rules of basically everything.  We negotiated down to one commander riding with us, with his handgun.  Then we crossed through the swamp (which is where the driver had gotten stuck for 2 days earlier), and we had to go pay homage to the town commissioner.  We explained the needs, he allowed us to talk to the police and recover the fuel.  You wonder why things take longer, and you have to be more patient in Africa - these are the kinds of reasons.  Instead of a quick pickup, we strolled through town, had a couple meetings, and got on the road 2 hours later.

The next 6 hours we spent in the car headed to Yuai, even though we weren't entirely sure of the direction - the driver had never taken that route before, nor did he speak English.  Did I mention that he was about 16 years old?  yep.  Driving to Yuai was like being on a really mean roller coaster - there isn't really a road per se, more like a cow path, that sometimes is blocked - you guessed it - by cows or tiny villages.  After those six hours were finished - we had gotten so close we could see Yuai, but there was a swampy river in our path.  We decided to get out and wade through, so the vehicle would be lighter.  No sooner had we exited the car, then the driver drove it straight into a deep well, and it was stuck.  For the next 36 hours, our muddy, mud-tire-less, beat-up old SUV was stuck in that river.  For the next 36 hours, we sent more and more guys from Yuai town to try to dig it out, but nothing worked.  Finally, Andy and I were starting to wave down tiny bush planes - when we discovered the lovely organization of Tearfund (run by my friend James in Yuai), who loaned us mud plates and towed us out of the river.

That night, we continued our focus groups on education needs and had a goat roast.... fun tip:  travel with someone who is a local celebrity, and you won't have to dig into your canned corn and beans.  Finally, we got back on the road to Duk Padiet, which turned out to not have ANY space at the inn or any place whatsoever, so while the driver changed the flat tire, we decided to head onward to the next town, where Norwegian People's Aid housed us for the evening.  Pete scared up some beer, and that was our dinner.  The 'showers' were missing a roof, so it was like a luxury open air shower under the stars and full moon, haha.

The next day, we drove all the way back down to Bor - where we all got lukewarm showers and spent some quality time in the air conditioning.  It was great - we passed a few huge cattle camps, and saw the house where John Garang was born.  The next day we flew out, and of course I was amazed to consider Juba a luxurious capital city.

I'm sorry for the lack of pictures - imagine dry, arid land with lots of small brush and random rivers :)  I will try to dig some snaps up from my email archives and post.

walk, sit, stand

Here are some tips for your next trip to Juba:
-stand in the shade, not the sun.
-if you're walking, walk on the bumpiest part of the road - that's where the fewest cars are likely to drive
-when a drunk guy starts following you on your walk, get as much space between you and him as possible.
-when you're sitting and the flies start to swarm... let them.  unless they're swarming your face or getting in your drink, then you can flick them away.
-it's ok to greet people, but I generally use these rules: only greet children if they greet you first. Only greet men if their tone sounds respectful. Greet women without discrimination.
-never assume anything is safe from tiny ants. They will eat your food, even if it's sealed.
-if you charge your Kindle through your computer, do it without your computer plugged in, so that your Kindle doesn't blow up.
-when you hear a bump in the night... assume it's a monkey or a mango.
-don't argue with the expats, they are all convinced they know more than you.... about everything.
-when your driver is driving - do not leave your hand hanging out the window, or your arm, or any body part.  While your driver is primarily concerned with keeping you safe - this really only applies to the road, and he will let your arm get snagged by trees and branches, or splashed by mud puddles as he deems appropriate.
-when you visit Logali House, do not expect the waiters to come to you.
-there's one seat where the air conditioner unit drops on people in Logali.  Figure out where it is, and keep your computer away from it.
-don't argue with police, you will not win.

Last, but not least... don't make up your mind too quickly.  About how your day went, about whether you have an amoeba or a parasite, about how you feel about this country- about anything.  This place is full of contradictions, it's confusing and crazy... but in some ways, it's also very good to live in Juba.

a fresh perspective

So, I was wandering around my apartment on Tuesday night - lonely and a little depressed about moving, trying to finish off a bottle of merlot (did you know it's illegal to 'move' alcohol?)-- and I started thinking about some of the differences between the U.S. and where I've been recently. Here goes:

Shower: my first morning back home, I waited for 10 minutes for the shower to warm up - and then realized that I was in America and the shower had been hot for 9 minutes already, and would stay hot as long as I wanted it to. It was great.

Driving: my little car is like a ladybug compared to the monstrous landcruiser I've been driving in Uganda - it literally swallows me - you can barely see me inside. I've had to readjust to driving on the right side of the road - I keep catching myself thinking left, and then saying, "No, Abigail - right, right!!" Also it's a little strange to have to park in designated areas - in Gulu, I could literally park in the middle of the street - and maybe an hour or two later, a lazy policeman would walk by and say, "Madam, this area is not for parking." I could probably convince him to let me stay though...

This is the vehicle I drive in Gulu - on the left.

Feet: it is impossible to keep feet clean in northern Uganda. It doesn't matter what shoes I'm wearing or where I go that day - when I get home there will be a layer of fine, red clay dust from my ankles down. Here, I can wear open-toed sandals and by the end of the day - I can still tell what color my toes were in the morning.

Humidity: Each evening, since being back, I have opened up my screen door and windows to let a little fresh air into the apartment. Immediately, I'm hit with a wave of oppressively hot, humid air that makes me run to close windows and start the A/C. I don't think I was ready for Virginia in July.

Smells: no, not my smell - the smell of my surroundings. The scent Uganda always reminds me of some weird combination of BO, goats' milk, and dust. In the U.S. I'm sure there is a different smell, but I don't notice it - probably because I'm already accustomed to it.

Speed: I am doing a little more eating-out than usual (due to the move and to the fact that I prematurely packed all my kitchen items), and it is unbelievable to me that I can order a meal, and the food will be ready within minutes. In Uganda, I've waited hours for a meal. I often want to offer to go out back and kill the chicken myself, but I think that would be considered rude.

Eating is surely a lesson in patience - unless you are prepared and take snacks, which I do - no patience for me!

Dance: well, every single weekend - all night long, we are out dancing - the Africans love it, and they love teaching me new moves. Thankfully, they don't care about my already-learned crazy 'strokes' as they call them. Not so much, in the US.

Me trying to shake it like the Acholi ladies

My colleague Joel (r), showing Telex (l) how to dance Shakira.