Back Home

My final week in the Sudan flew by. I conducted another three-day training with the Community Development Association, a Darfur-based organization that is well-networked into the Darfurian community in Khartoum. Several Darfurian activists and Members of Parliament attended the training. All in all it was quite a successful training. In addition, I was fitting in last meetings, finishing all of my work at Salmmah, and saying goodbye to friends. I left with a list of several remaining topics to be researched, a handful of meetings I didn’t have time to schedule, and feeling like an additional two weeks would have enabled me to accomplish everything. But in reality, whenever I left the Sudan, be it earlier this week or next month, I would have felt that an additional two weeks would have been a sufficient amount of time to complete everything. I think this is all a part of the process of leaving a place as rich and complex as the Sudan.

I arrived back in the States earlier this week following a long, eventful 33 hour trip home. The young woman sitting next to me on the flight from Amsterdam to Detroit was a Peace Corps volunteer in Uganda who was being sent home for medical treatment for an unidentified stomach bug. It was obvious between her frequent trips to the bathroom and the fact that she had not kept food down or in for several days that she was very ill. About two-thirds of the way through the flight, she began seizing, and we had to call a doctor for help. Three doctors offered assistance, and they inserted an IV immediately. Initially, they thought we would have to divert to Canada for her to get treatment, but fortunately, the doctors stabilized her and the flight landed as scheduled. The last time I saw her, an emergency team was wheeling her away from the gate to a Detroit hospital. Hopefully they were able to get her the treatment she needed.

I’ve begun to reflect more upon my summer experience, listing my “highlights” and “lowlights”, as we used to say on backpacking trips. I firmly believe that much of what one takes away from experiences such as these isn’t fully realized for some time, so what follows is a preliminary list.

This summer was incredibly fulfilling for me personally. It reaffirmed my love for Africa and my interest in doing further research and work there. It also reminded me of how much I enjoy instructing, designing a curriculum, and doing research. Additionally, it felt great to be back in the field and challenging myself culturally, physically, and intellectually after a very draining and difficult experience with evasive abdominal surgery in the spring. My “lowlights” included being ill several times and finding myself frustrated beyond words and lacking any patience at times with “the Sudanese way” of doing things.

Sudan is a challenging place. I used to think that Haiti was the most challenging place I had ever visited due to the lack of infrastructure, economic and national security, and severe poverty, that when combined, prevent any sustainable economic development. However, the ongoing conflicts, government manipulation and corruption, and poverty of the Sudan make this country without a doubt the most challenging country I’ve ever visited and tried to understand.

The GoS has mastered the art of creating civil conflict in order to avoid investing in and sharing resources with any part of the country outside of Khartoum. They arm militias and tribes to fight against each other in every region of the country. Our eyes and ears are currently attuned to Darfur, however, the Janjaweed and are only one of hundreds of examples of how the Sudanese government has manipulated and fueled conflict within its own borders.

My time in Sudan made me very critical of the many U.S. based advocacy organizations with tunnel vision on Darfur. Darfur is only one piece of a much larger pie, and without ensuring the complete implementation of the CPA, peace will never be sustained in Sudan or the entire region. U.S. foreign policy never addresses the south or the east, as if once a peace agreement is signed, the job is done. Did you know that there was a conflict in East Sudan, for which the East Sudan Peace Agreement was signed in October 2006? Or that the Eastern agreement has barely been implemented? Or that the Comprehensive Peace Agreement of 2005 is dangerously close to falling apart? I welcome one of our umpteen Presidential candidates to articulate how they plan to pursue a peace agenda in Darfur which includes a plan for maintaining and implementing the fragile peace that exists in the rest of the country.

One thing is very clear to me: Sudan’s greatest asset is its people. I have never worked with more generous, open, and resilient people in my life. Friends and colleagues in the north and in the south welcomed me with open arms, women and men whom I interviewed were very candid and trusting in their responses, and I found people in general to be extremely helpful. These people and this set of qualities represents the majority in the Sudan, which is why I did not leave the country feeling completely overwhelmed by the enormity of its problems. I am confident that one day, a truly comprehensive, sustainable peace will be found in this country. It’s a matter of time and timing.

Juba Raha

As travel would have it in the Sudan, heavy rains and a haboub cancelled flights from Juba back to Khartoum for two days, delaying my return to the north. While it is frustrating to make multiple trips to the airport, only to find out that the flights were cancelled, I must admit that I enjoyed my extra time in Juba.

The training with the SuWEP south women went incredibly well. In the end, we had 12 participants and we fit the three day training into two days, eight hours each day. Since English is the language of the GOSS, all of the participants were fluent in English making translation unnecessary and speeding up the pace of the workshop. All of the women were very satisfied and complementary of the training, and they expressed their gratitude for the time I put into the training. Below is a picture of the women with their certificates upon completion of the training.

I filled my extra time in Juba with meetings. I met with some women Parliamentarians in the GOSS, a local women’s organization, and attended the first National Prayer Breakfast for the GOSS. President Salva Kiir, Vice President Riek Machar, Rebecca Garang (wife of John Garang) and many other impressive leaders from the south were all in attendance. I enjoyed listening to the prayers and speeches given by these prominent figures about good governance and their hopes and promises for a New Sudan. I found it ironic however, that a government so committed to being “secular” would host a prayer breakfast which was about 95% Christian, 5% Muslim.

My last night in Juba I went with some friends to the Village, one of a handful of western style restaurants in Juba, for pizza, and from there we went to listen to local reggae bands play at Juba Raha, the Ugandan campground where all of the LRA peace negotiations have taken place. When there are no peace talks going on at the camp, the bar and outdoor space serves as a local party spot. We listened to some pretty interesting reggae and East African music with a strong Ugandan influence. We left the Raha slightly after 11:15 PM, giving us enough time to get back to camp before the midnight curfew. Because of the plethora of small arms held by all of the current and former SPLA in Juba, one must be careful about driving home late at night and running into drunken brawls which have been known to turn deadly on occasion. Thankfully, we made it back to camp without a problem, and just in time for a few hours of sleep before driving back out to the airport to fly back to Khartoum.

Commercial airlines in Sudan are an experience in themselves. There are no seat assignments, no boarding procedures, except to push forward as hard as you can and cram yourself into the line to board the plane, and flights rarely take off on time. Since two days of flights were cancelled from Juba to Khartoum, Marsland Airlines brought in an extra plane and flew three days worth of passengers back north on two aircraft. The beauty of this process was that no one knew which plane they were supposed to be on and luggage was randomly loaded into either plane. We waited three hours to board while the airline tried to make some sense of how they were getting all of the passengers and their luggage onto the planes. I was fortunate, or so I thought, to be pushed, literally, onto the first plane until I realized that my luggage was loaded on the second plane which departed a full hour and a half after the first one. So after landing in Khartoum, I waited in baggage claim for an additional two hours for my bags. I don’t think I will ever complain about airport travel in the U.S. again!

Feeling at home in Juba

The Government of Sudan makes it virtually impossible for foreigners to stay in Sudan and to travel within the country. My last ten days have been dominated by paperwork, permissions, and visits to various organizations and government Ministries in order to renew my permit to stay here and receive clearance to travel to Juba to run another training. Unbeknownst to me, visitors must renew their permits on a monthly basis, even with a three month visa. After securing a renewal letter from Ahfad (on university letterhead with an official stamp), Abdul Asim’s friend took my passport, photos, and forms to the Ministry to renew my permit. Four days later, two days of which someone waited at the Ministry all day on my behalf, I received my passport back with my permit. And this is not even the half of all the running around, gathering of letters, and scheduling and rescheduling that took place for me to get to Juba. I was about ready to pull my hair out in frustration the whole process was so irritating.

But alas, I am here in Juba now, sitting right along the Nile and watching the sun set. I feel so much more at home here in the capital of the Government of Southern Sudan (GOSS), perhaps because most of the people speak English, or most are Christian, or maybe it’s that the lush green landscape and people remind me very much of Kenya and of the Africa that is familiar to me. Regardless, I can already tell that I am going to feel much more comfortable here than I do in the north.

Decades of war destroyed the infrastructure of southern Sudan. Communication here is incredibly difficult – most people have two cell phones: one on the Ugandan network and the other on a Sudanese network. When attempting to make a call, you often must try five or six times before your phone actually connects to a network. The phone Sharaf lent me, which is on a Sudanese network, only works about 25% of the time. Electricity is at a minimum and everything runs off generators. Transport requires a 4-wheel drive vehicle and skilled driver, as the roads are a sea of deep potholes and ditches. There is no public transport, at least that I’ve been able to identify.

Most aid agencies have their staff live and work out of their office (UNDP, UNMIS, UNICEF, etc.). Other organizations rent tents and containers in one of a handful of camps set up for visitors. These camps are making quite a profit off of the humanitarian and international organizations. A tent is $160/night, and a container is $220/night. With vehicle rental costing about $150/day, organizations are easily spending $325/day to have their staff stay in Juba. The prices for everything here are exorbitant.

I spent most of my day today with Beatrice, the Coordinator for SuWEP South, running from office to office recruiting women to come to the workshop tomorrow. With the phones being so bad, the best way to meet with people or schedule appointments is to go directly to their office. We met with several of the women who are Members of Parliament in the GOSS, and several who are working in various Ministries or government funded peace and relief organizations. Since the legislature is still in session, many of these women will not be able to attend the training, so who knows how many women will actually show up tomorrow morning for the training. At the end of the day, we walked into Vice President Riek Machar’s office and scheduled an appointment for Thursday afternoon. A friend from Khartoum wrote a letter on my behalf asking for a meeting with the VP. I’m looking forward to meeting the man who split the SPLA and asking for his thoughts about the current and future political situation of Southern Sudan. It is quite amazing how easily one can meet with officials in the government down here.

But for now, it’s great to be relaxing by the mother of all rivers after a very long day of travel and running around (flights from Khartoum to Juba leave at 7:00 AM so I was at the airport by 5:00). I can tell I’m really going to enjoy being here.

Ancient Cities and Pyramids

On Saturday, we rented a car and paid a driver to drive us up to Meroe and Musawwarat es Sufra, ancient Meroitic sites dating back to about 500 BC to 500 AD when Meroe became the capital of the Kushite Kingdom. Meroe, which is approximately 4 hours north of Khartoum, is the site of the Royal City and Royal cemetery, or pyramids.

We went first to the pyramids. We rode camels up to the base of the pyramids and spent an hour walking around and exploring. Originally, there were 57 pyramids in the cemetery, but hundreds of years of sand and wind and robbers seeking treasures have decapitated and destroyed most of ruins. Most of the gold found in these pyramids eventually found it’s way to Egyptian museums in Berlin and Munich.

From the pyramids, we drove over to the Royal City where the park attendant took us on a tour of the remains of the royal palace, Amun Temple, and baths. The baths, which clearly have a Roman influence, are the best preserved of the ruins here, though you can still make out the columns and alter of the temple fairly well.

After visiting Meroe, we headed back south and then drove straight east across the desert to Musawwarat es Sufra, site of the largest Merotic remains in the Sudan, and in my opinion, the most impressive. These sites can only be reached if you have an experienced driver or GPS, as we drove approximately 45 km across the desert to reach these ruins. The large complex of remains at Musawwarat is called the “Great Enclosure.” At the center of the sprawling compound is a large temple. All of the walls and columns are covered in elephants, Egyptian carvings and hieroglyphics. It is unclear how this site was used; some hypothesize that it was a training ground for war and a place where prisoners were housed, while others surmise that it was a pilgrimage site dedicated to the God Apedemak.

To the east of the Great Enclosure stands the Lion temple, which is clearly dedicated to Apedemak. The temple was built around 230 BC, and reconstructed in 1969 by German archaeologists. The carvings and columns inside the temple were particularly impressive.

Nuba Wrestling

I’ve quite enjoyed this week; nothing especially new or exciting to write about in terms of my work and research, as both are progressing quite well.

I’m reading Emma’s War again. For those of you who are interested in learning more about the history of the war between the north and the south in the Sudan, this is an excellent read. Emma McCune was a British aid worker who married Riek Machar, one of the SPLA commanders in the Blue Nile region of the Sudan. Riek Machar was one of three commanders who launched a coup against John Garang, the leader of the SPLA, in 1991 and split the southern rebel movement for several years. John Garang often referred to this attempted coup and war amongst the SPLA factions as Emma’s War, and thought Emma was a spy sent to break apart the SPLA. I love the way the author, Deborah Scroggins, paints the history and circumstances of the conflict through both Emma’s story and her own experience as a journalist in the south. Now that I am more familiar with the wars, tribes, and geography of Sudan, I’m finding the book even more informative the second time around.

On Friday afternoon, a contingent of Harvard-Fletcher folks ventured to North Khartoum to watch a Nuba wrestling match. For the tribes who live in the Nuba Mountains in the south, these wrestling matches are held to uphold the honor of the village. Nuba wrestlers spend two weeks before a match preparing – eating, exercising, and greasing their bodies with oil, as they wrestle half-naked or wearing a few animal skins. If a wrestler loses a match on more than one occasion he risks being thrown out of the tribe, so the stakes are high. Here in Khartoum, the teams are organized by municipality and the wrestlers wear soccer uniforms in accordance with the local Islamic custom.

The match was a fascinating combination of wrestling and negotiation. A wrestler from one team came to the middle of the circle and the opposing team sent a group of three wrestlers to negotiate which wrestler from their team would participate. After negotiating, the three wrestlers return to their team to select a teammate to fight. This teammate then walks to the middle of the circle to meet his opponent; if he does not want to fight the man, he can return to his team and demand that another wrestler be chosen. We saw this same pattern of negotiation occur three times with one of the wrestlers the red team put forward to wrestle. As it turns out, this particular wrestler had a reputation for being a “killer”, meaning that he seriously injured or killed another wrestler in a previous match by breaking his neck or back. No wonder no one wanted to wrestle him! After the wrestlers have agreed to wrestle, the two lock arms and begin the process of trying to lift the opponent’s feet off the ground or knock him to the ground completely.

Haboubs and brown rain

The coming of the rainy season here in the Sudan is a mixed blessing. For us khawajas, the 5-10 degree drop in the temperature is a welcome reprieve from the oppressive heat. However, for the majority of Sudanese people, the downpours and haboubs (dust clouds) that precede them bring flooding and difficult times. Interestingly, even the rain here is brown with dust and sand.

In Khartoum the sand and dust, leaking roofs, and huge puddles in the streets are mostly just a nuisance. The sewer system in my apartment began overflowing with the rains; definitely not a pleasant predicament in which to find oneself. Luckily, my one month of rent was about finished and my friend Michelle’s roommates were taking off for 4 weeks of R&R in Europe, so a room was available in her apartment. So, I packed up my things and switched apartments … and what a difference in quality of life the move is already making.

My new apartment is on the ninth floor of a large apartment building overlooking a mosque on one side and the city of Khartoum on the other. The picture below is of a haboub moving in over the city right before a rain storm. As you can see, we have a great view off our deck. Additionally, we have comfy furniture, a fully equipped kitchen, and a satellite TV, and a wonderful, young woman named Rose comes a couple times a week to clean and do laundry. It could not be more opposite from the open-air Sudanese apartment in which I was previously living.

And while I’m sitting on the couch watching Oprah and Alias on TV at night (the people here LOVE Oprah – everyone talks about her show and I feel the need to watch in order to be in the know), thousands of other people’s lives across the Sudan are being devastated by the floods. Everyday there is new story in the newspaper about flooded villages and people who are moving because they have lost their homes and crops. Here in Khartoum, the Nile has overflowed its banks, displacing all the squatters along the river who have small plots of crops. This migration of people also brings increased conflict between tribes as nomads move their livestock across or settle upon agriculturalists’ lands. Cholera season has begun, and the mosquitoes are out with a vengeance. It is a devastating time for many people here in the Sudan, which makes me feel especially guilty about the pleasure and comfort I have found in my new apartment.

Concluding the first workshop

Today, I completed the fourth and final day of training for the SuWEP women in Khartoum on elections, fundraising, and advocacy. I have mixed feelings: relieved to no longer have the stress of preparing and designing the sessions, accomplished in that I can actually point to something that I was able to create and contribute towards the women’s movement here, and humbled by the gratitude I received from the participants in the training.

At the conclusion of the last session, we handed out workshop certificates to all of the participants. Rawda put the certificate content together and Ayman professionally designed them. Logos for Salmmah, SuWEP, and Harvard are at the top of the certificate which acknowledges each woman’s participation in the trainings, and Fahima, Rawda, and I each signed at the bottom. You would not believe how excited the women were to receive their certificates. We even did a rating system where women received a 1 for attending all the sessions, a 2 if they missed one session, and a 3 if they missed two or more sessions. It was made clear to me that we must distinguish between those with perfect attendance and those who missed some sessions.

A reporter for the El Maidan newspaper attended the training and will be writing an article about it. She is interested in writing about women peace builders taking a role in advocacy campaigns and the upcoming elections. I am doing an interview with her on Sunday, and she will be publishing an article (in Arabic, of course) the following week. I’ll be sure to let you know how it turns out after I’m able to have my colleagues translate it for me.

Building Momentum

Before I came to Sudan, many folks warned me that it was a place where “everything is happening, and yet nothing is happening” and to be prepared to do a lot of waiting and reading. I came adequately prepared with 7 books (SaraJ talked me out of bringing 11 – thank goodness the 4 heaviest books didn’t make the final cut) and lots of little projects to fill my time if necessary.

Having been in Sudan for four weeks now, I must say that there is some truth to this statement. With three separate conflicts happening all at once in one country (Darfur to the west, another in the east, and tensions remaining sufficiently high in the south), there is indeed a lot happening, though one would never know it given the monotony of daily life here in Khartoum.

For me, life has only continued to get crazier and more hectic with each new week, and I say this in a very positive sense. Now that I’m nearing the conclusion of my trainings for the women of SuWEP here in Khartoum (only one workshop to go), I’ve been able to focus more of my energies on meeting with people and building my base of contacts here in Khartoum. Those of you who know how I used to pack my daily schedule in DC and run myself ragged need not worry – I’m not making myself quite as crazy as I did then, though admittedly, I’m coming close. Thanks to the help of Evelyn and Jacqui at the Initiative for Inclusive Security and my colleagues here, I’ve been scheduling several meetings a day with women at UNFPA, UNIFEM, UNICEF, UNDP, IRI, NDI, women from the National Assembly, women from the Parliament, Darfuri women, SPLM women from the south, and more. Each of these meetings leads to one or two additional ones, and so forth. People here have been unbelievable helpful and open about their work. I have been especially humbled and amazed by the Darfuri women and women in the National Assembly and Parliament who have sometimes spent over two hours with me sharing their stories, their passions and work, and their hopes and fears for Sudan. It has been an incredible learning experience.

Additionally, I’ve picked up several pieces of research and writing, which have been challenging and interesting as well. One piece is a review of a book Fahima asked me to read entitled “One Foot in Heaven.” The book is essentially the dissertation research of a Dutch anthropologist who spent two years doing research on women who worked in the market in the town of Kebkabiya, North Darfur from 1991-1992 during a period of intense Islamization in Sudan. Through interviews with several market women, the author paints a complicated and rich testimony that sheds an informative light on the current conflict in Darfur and highlights the incredible strength of the Darfuri women. If you’re interested in reading my review, let me know and I’m happy to send it to you when I am finished.

As for the 7 books I brought with me and the numerous projects I thought I might finish, well… looks they will just have to be pushed off until next summer.

Sufism

The cultural highlight of my last week was going to see sufi dancers with my friend Ayman. For those of you who are unfamiliar with sufism, it is a mystical tradition within Islam, and it plays a very important role in the Sudan. Sufism is practiced by many men here and some have even credited it’s prevalence with deterring the spread of radical Islamic movements in the Sudan.

Sufis believe in a mystic path to God that is completely separate from the daily rituals of Islam. Sufis go on retreat to the desert for weeks or months at a time to fast and pray. They believe that by shedding all earthly connections and desires including one’s individual self, one can fill his heart with love for God and purify the heart and soul. At the heart of sufism is a love for everyone and everything.

The sufis are divided into tariqa, or brotherhoods, that are led by a sheikh. Every Friday, several of these tariqa gather to dance and chant and anyone – family, friends, neighbors, even strangers like me - is welcome to come watch and participate.

Ayman took me to two sufi gatherings in Umdurman – one for the poor and one for the rich. Though the dance and songs were entirely the same, the look and feel of the two groups was completely different. At the first gathering for the poor, Sufis could dress in all white or in the traditional green; at the second gathering amongst the rich, every dancer had to be dressed in green. At the first gathering, dust and dirt filled the air and dancers were singing and shouting loudly in order to be heard; at the second gathering they brought in portable fans and mist machines to keep everyone cool and passed a microphone for singing. Both gatherings, however, were completely fascinating.

Simple Pleasures

Khartoum is a city of very few street lights, and even fewer traffic lights. This presents some challenges when walking home at night, as it gets really dark once you turn off the main streets into side streets. Luckily, this is a very safe city to walk around in, so foreigners like myself need not worry too much about dangers lurking in the dark, though one can never be too cautious.

One of the benefits to this darkness, however, is that the stars in the sky are absolutely brilliant and the moon is equally bright. Sitting on my patio looking at the stars tonight, I can see many of the stars and constellations that are difficult to identify in our midnight sky at home. Even the Pleiades, the seven sisters, are visible here.

Looking up I also see one of the many stray neighborhood cats staring down at me. He’s perched on the roof, right above my living room door. These cats climb up the tree right outside my apartment wall and chase each other around the neighborhood every night, jumping from rooftop to rooftop. Occasionally one of them will jump down onto my patio and wait by my living room door for an invitation to come in. As soon as I open the door and shoo them away, they jump back up my walls to the roof, and the chasing begins again. It really is quite funny to watch and listen to.

I’m eating plain pasta for dinner for the third night in a row. Unfortunately, I fell victim to “Sudanese sickness” earlier this week, and I spent one full night and day making frequent trips to the bathroom and resting in bed. Thank goodness for Cipro the wonder drug. 24 hours after taking your first pill, the fever, sweats, and nausea are gone, and within 48 hours you’re back to your normal routine.

Though it’s never fun to be sick, I must admit that I enjoyed the down time to myself for a few days. I’ve been on-the-go ever since I arrived here; between trainings at work, getting moved in and acclimated to my surroundings, meeting new people, and socializing with friends in the evenings, I’ve had very little down time. It seems there are always things going on at the embassies here – German happy hours (with alcohol) every other Tuesday, salsa at the Dutch embassy every Wednesday night, and films, bbqs, bands, and poetry readings at the American, French, and Swedish embassies on a regular basis.

And there are the UN parties. I accompanied friends from Fletcher to a UN party this weekend, and it felt like culture shock; tons of folks, a DJ blasting American music, and tons of alcohol and wasted, happy people. Sudan is considered a “hardship post” for the UN, which means that families and spouses are not allowed, and personnel cannot travel freely outside of Khartoum. It seems the security restrictions, coupled with the lack of a night life here in Khartoum, begin to take a toll after a while, and many revert to their drunken university days when alcohol is available. I am not passing judgment, just noting the situation with intrigue.

One friend made an excellent point; she said, “it’s as if the UN people aren’t really living where they are living.” Because of the security restrictions, few UN staff have the opportunity to meet people outside the UN or venture far into Sudanese culture. They have cars so that they never take public transport. They only eat out at the same five restaurants. In many ways they are isolated, and I’m sure this only fuels the discontent many of them share about living here.

I feel fortunate that I am working this summer with a Sudanese organization, and that I’ve had the opportunity to have both Sudanese and international colleagues and friends here. It’s making for a well-rounded and really enjoyable experience. And for tonight, I am happy to be feeling well again, eating a bowl of pasta, and enjoying a beautiful starry night.

First training of many

Well, my first workshop went well. Not spectacular, but I was happy with how it went over all. The beginning and final workshops were great (Deciding to run for office and Messaging and Communications) – the women were animated, participating, and grasping all of the material. However, the middle workshop about creating a campaign plan and Election Day was a bit more challenging, as there is so little information available about Election Day itself and the processes for political parties and candidates. Some of what I went over seems superfluous in retrospect, and I’m pretty sure some of it was lost in the translation to Arabic, even though I was keeping things very simple; however, key components such as how to vote by ballot at the polls and how to think creatively about getting-out-the-vote (GOTV) for women on Election Day were definitely important and held the women’s attention. Several women came up to me at the conclusion of the workshop to let me know how informative and helpful the training was, which was great to hear, and two women asked me to come to their universities to do the same training for younger women. Perhaps one or both will be able to happen. In the meantime, I’m hurriedly preparing a fundraising training for Tuesday.

Community Rally for Darfur

Several evenings ago, I accompanied my neighbor to a community rally to raise money and collect clothing for the children in Darfur: Save Welaid Darfur 2007. The founder of Sudaneseonline.org, one of the most popular websites in the world, sponsored the rally, and my friend Amira, an actress who frequently visits Salmmah, was emcee for the evening.

Several very impressive and important people attended. Minni Minawi, the former leader of the Sudanese Liberation Movement (SLM), stayed for about two hours before speaking and departing. After signing the Darfur Peace Agreement (DPA) in Abuja in 2006, Minni became an advisor to President Bashir here in Khartoum. The SLM crumbled shortly thereafter, as 19+ commanders from the SLM who did not support the DPA left the organization to form their own: the National Redemption Front (NRF). Many here say the SLM has since become a GoS paramilitary group, and is no longer fighting on behalf of the Darfurian people. Minni was seated three feet from me, and my friend Ayman snapped this photo of him with me in the background. Mahjoub Shareef, a renowned Sudanese poet, also spoke, and two bands played: one was a local group who sang in Arabic, the other was from the south and did a tradition performance with drums in Dinka (southern tribal language).

The news of progress made in the Darfur peace process here is scattered and skeptical at best. As I watch the BBC report on TV that the GoS has committed to a hybrid peace-keeping force of United Nations and African Union troops, I read in the local newspapers that President Bashir is creating many stipulations about the composition of these forces that are intended to severely limit the ability of the troops to maintain peace in Darfur. Many African countries are weary of sending additional troops, and of course, African troops are exactly what President Bashir is demanding. Reports range from October 2007 to May 2008 for the deployment of the hybrid force, creating further skepticism that such a force will be effective in stabilizing the region. And on the Darfur rebel side of things, it appears that the movements of the JEM (Justice and Equality Movement) and NRF are splintering into more and more fractions every day and they are increasingly attacking aid workers and convoys.

Being here, I now better understand why the urgency and attention placed on Darfur by the international community is oftentimes frustrating to the people living here. The rest of Sudan is busy working to rebuild the south, which was decimated by 20 years of war, working for women’s and children’s rights, health and education, and in many cases, just working to survive. Meanwhile, international funders are currently only interested in funding programs and aid for the women and children of Darfur. It is as though, once again, the international community is exhibiting attention deficit disorder and is just following the catastrophe of the moment, neglecting to commit funding to the development and education work that is so critical to security and stability here in the long run.

Not just new to me

One week into my stay in Sudan and I finally feel settled. I am oriented to the layout of Khartoum and Omdurman, the old city and northwest section of Khartoum state on the other side of the Nile. I know where to buy groceries. I know how to navigate the bus system, and more importantly, how to signal to the driver of these 30 passenger mini-buses packed with people that you need to get off – you snap and make a ticking-type sound. I’m even able to estimate the time of day based on the calls to worship that resonate throughout the city calling all Muslims to pray five times a day.

With the basics down, I’ve started working on my Arabic and exploring more of Khartoum. Last night I attended a community rally for Darfur run by my friend Amira (more on that once I get my photos together), and this evening my friends Sharaf and Tarig humored me by accompanying me on a trek to the Nile to take photographs of sunset over the sacred river. It seemed the perfect way to end the day… except that I forgot that we needed to transfer buses in the center of downtown Khartoum at the heart of rush hour. Unfortunately, the sun set as we were getting off the bus, so I didn’t get my sunset photos. En route to the Nile, however, we walked past an electricity plant with a water tower painted as a 7-Up can. Tarig made a joke about Egyptians coming to Sudan thinking that the tower was full of 7-Up, making both Sharaf and I laugh. I went to pull out my camera to take a photo of the tower before the sun went down when Tarig stopped me. “Don’t take a picture. The police will think you are a spy and they will take your memory card right out of your camera.” Spy? I questioned laughingly. “But it is true. This is considered a security area with the electricity and they will think you are an American spy.” So I zippered my camera case again. Thank goodness Tarig and Sharif came along with me.

Experiences such as this remind me daily that even with the increase of freedoms seen in Sudan over the past several years, this is still very much a dictatorship where traditional practices and power structures that oppress women and children and limit freedom of speech are prevalent. Today, an editor of the Khartoum Monitor, the local newspaper in English, was arrested and made to pay $5000 USD for an article he wrote last year that criticized the Government of Sudan (GoS). Over lunch, I was talking with a colleague about FGM (female genital mutilation) and my experience seeing it while amongst the Massai. For some reason, I had foolishly assumed that many of the women my age, who are social change activists and of a progressive political nature, are not circumcised, particularly here in Khartoum. But in fact, almost all of them are circumcised. However, many girls born after 1985 (particularly in Khartoum) are not circumcised, and the practice is now, thankfully, on the decline.

1985. That was the year the dictator Jaafar Nimereri was swept from office by a military coup, the same fashion in which he took the government in 1969, and democracy was re-instated in Sudan. This democratic interlude lasted only a few years before the current president, Omar al-Bashir, took power in 1989. 1986 was the last time the Sudanese people voted for Members of Parliament and for President. All of the women who are currently MP’s in the National Assembly are appointees. In signing the CPA in 2005, the GoS agreed to democratic elections in 2008 with international observers. An Election Commission of 11 appointees (all men) is currently creating the timeline, guidelines, and procedures for these elections (to the best of my understanding).

Thus, I decided that I will do my first training (of three) for the women in SuWEP this Thursday on political campaigns: “Electing Women to Office: Running a Political Campaign”. The other two trainings I am doing over the course of the next two weeks are on fundraising and advocacy. I am nervous about doing this election training. Voting and political campaigns are entirely new to the women here, and I worry that with the translation into Arabic of what I am trying to teach, the content and main points might be lost. How does one break down the importance of GOTV (get-out-the-vote) to people who have never voted before? I’m not quite sure, but I’m aiming to do my best. So little information exists about how the 2008 elections will run here, how the political parties and candidates will file and run campaigns, and how the voting process itself will work, that I feel like I’m creating this training in a vacuum.

In the north, the women are aiming to fill 30% of their National Assembly seats with women, and in the south, they are aiming for 20%. Currently, only 17% of the total national seats are held by women, so this is a significant increase. The need is great for women to be trained and encouraged to run for office. Let’s hope that just as I’m learning and grasping new concepts from Sudanese culture, the 30 women attending the training tomorrow will be able to do the same from my presentation of how U.S. political campaigns work. We’ll see how it goes!

A sexuality training and a wedding

What better way to delve into Muslim culture than to participate in the first ever sexuality training held in Sudan and then attend a wedding!

I’m learning quickly that Salmmah is very unique, an oasis of feminist dialogue and action in a sea of restrictions and oppression of women, and a forerunner in tackling issues, such as women's equality and sexuality, in Sudan. Pramada Menon, Co-Director of Crea (Pramada is also a friend and grantee of Kathy Sreedhar’s, a Free the Slaves board member, so we got to gossip about Indian activists in the anti-slavery and women's movements who we both knew – SMALL WORLD!) came from Delhi to lead the three day workshop which concluded today. I cannot get into details publicly, but the workshop was enlightening in many respects, especially when comparing responses of older Sudanese men and women who grew up in an English dominated society with the responses of young adults who have grown up under sharia (Islamic law). It was wonderful to hear women, young and old, saying at the conclusion of today's session that this training was the first time they ever discussed these issues publicly and they felt we "broke the silence" in Sudan.

Friday’s are a day of rest in Sudan and the only day that the government closes. Because of this, Thursday and Friday evenings are popular wedding times. I spent Friday cleaning up from the sand storm and resting, and then I walked over to Ozone (check out the Economist article), the popular café for internationals where I listened to Kenny G while sipping a caramel Macchiato. Oddly enough, I’ve never had a macchiato before, so I figured why not try one in Khartoum!

Friday night I attended my Salmmah colleague’s sister’s wedding with others from the center. Fahima said she would pick me up at 8:45 PM and she arrived "promptly" on "Sudanese time" at 10:05 PM. The wedding started at 9:30, but we still managed to get a table right up front, and let me tell you - it was quite a production! The wedding was held at the Navy Club, right on the Nile, and eight huge floodlights lit up a large outdoor space filled with tables, a raised dance floor, and at the head of the dance floor, a platform draped in pink for the bride and groom. (Think Steel Magnolias where Sally Field says “that chapel looks like it’s been hosed down in Pepto Bismol” pink. And tons of equally bright pink flowers, too.) The women dress to the hilt for weddings, while men wear trousers and a shirt. I have never seen so many beautifully decorated scarves, or taraf, in my life. Ranges of colorful, shimmering, silk speckled with tons of sequins, heels adorned in sequins, gold bracelets, glittery earrings - the whole deal. We danced and ate and drank orange and lime sodas (no alcohol is allowed in Sudan... publicly, that is) while the bride and groom watched from their pink platform. A video camera captured the couple's every twitch and projected their image on huge video screens set up around the platform for all to watch. At 11:15 the bride and groom rose to join in the last dance of the evening (government rule that you cannot play music after 11:30). The bride's dress had at least a 10 foot train which her attendants spread out as she and the groom walked onto the dance floor. I cannot imagine wearing that much fabric in this heat! At 11:30 the music shut down and all the guests left, leaving the families of the bride and groom to see them off in their car decorated in ribbon, streamers, and bows.

Settling in Sudan

When my flight arrived in Khartoum on Tuesday at 6:30 PM, the temperature on the ground was 104 degrees. There is some truth to what folks say about dry heat being more bearable, however, 104 degrees is still damn hot.

“We’re glad you arrived this week when it’s cooler” said Sharaf from Salmmah who greeted me at the airport. “It was 45 degrees (115 degrees Fahrenheit) last week.” Thank god I arrived this week, too, I thought. If this is 104, I couldn’t have done 115 degrees right from the start.

Other than the heat, the sand and dust take some getting used to. There is a thin layer of dirt on everything here – both indoors and out - and your pants, shoes, and feet are covered in it constantly.

My first night was quite eventful – I locked myself out of my apartment and we had a sand storm! Both stories require a little background about the layout of my apartment. I’ll post photos when I get to a faster internet connection. In the meantime… you enter from the street through a carport (deadbolt #1) into an open patio area. On the right of the patio are two doors – one to a shower and toilet and the other to a make-shift kitchen with a sink and a three-burner portable stove. At the back of the patio is the door to my living room (deadbolt #2), through which you enter the air-conditioned bedroom which also houses my refrigerator. It’s quite a fabulous set-up by Sudanese standards, however, not quite so fabulous by American standards.

Fahima, the Director of Salmmah, and Zaynab, the Director of SuWEP, and Zaynab’s husband came over around 9 PM to take me out for coffee. As we were leaving, I grabbed the keys off the coffee table, put the deadbolt through the living room door, then realized that the keys in my hand were not for the deadbolts! I didn’t know that someone left a set of office keys on the coffee table as well. We left for coffee and decided to figure something out when we returned.

The production that ensued when we returned couldn’t have been a more perfect teambuilding exercise: Figure out how to get a set of keys off a coffee table, approximately 12 feet away from an open window. Luckily, I had left my living room window open, but decorative bars cover all the windows to prevent anyone from entering. Sharaf grabbed a long stick and a piece of tubing he found on the street outside my apartment, tied the two together with a napkin from the kitchen, then stuck a fork on the end using leaves and twigs. Zainab’s husband pulled his car into the patio area for light, and we took turns sticking our contraption through the barred window with our arms outstretched, trying to reach the keys on the coffee table. Quite the sight! After half an hour, we were successful! I could not have been more embarrassed or more thankful for all of their help. I’ll definitely never leave those keys behind again.

Very early the next morning, a sand storm came through. At first I was incredibly excited about the prospect of seeing a sand storm… now I understand why people dislike them so much. Unfortunately, I slept through the storm and it pushed open my bathroom door and coated the entire shower and toilet in sand, not to mention the quarter-inch layering of sand and dust all over the patio. UGH! Welcome to Sudan!

Summer in Sudan

Many of you have asked what exactly I will be doing this summer, so what follows is the "short blurb version" I promised.

First, I want to acknowledge Nancy Klavans, who funds the Nancy Germeshausen Klavans Fellowship, and Victoria Budson, the Executive Director of the Women and Public Policy Program at the KSG. Their generous support made my summer in the Sudan possible. I also want to acknowledge Evelyn Thornton at The Initiative for Inclusive Security who's been working with me for several months to plan my summer and connect with the organizations I'll be working with.

I will be working with two women's organizations based in Khartoum - the Salmmah Women's Resource Centre and the Community Development Association. Through Salmmah I will be working on SuWEP - Sudanese Women's Empowerment for Peace - which is bringing women leaders from the north and south of Sudan together to work on the implementation of the Comprehensive Peace Agreement (CPA) of 2005 that ended over two decades of fighting between the north and south. I will be doing seminars and workshops on elections, fundraising, advocacy, etc. in Khartoum (north) and Juba (south) for the women in this program. Then I'll be working with the Community Development Association on Darfurian women's participation in the Darfur peace process, helping to identify and convene women leaders in and from Darfur who should be included in the ongoing dialogue and peace process.

Yes, this is quite a bit of work for one summer and probably only a portion of it will be realized, particularly relating to the Darfur peace process, but I'm determined to give it all my best shot and see what pans out in the end.

Loololan

In preparing for my summer in the Sudan, I decided to read through my journal from my first trip to Africa back in 2001 when I backpacked across Kenya for 11 weeks on the NOLS East Africa semester course. I hiked to the top of Mt. Kenya, traversed the savannahs and elephant-filled forests of Maasailand, went on safari, and sailed ancient dhows (Swahili sailing vessels) up the archipelago off the Kenyan coast. It was an amazing semester - a truly "once in a lifetime" experience. As I read through my entries from Maasailand, I came across the Kimaa word "loololan." According to Joshua, my Maasai NOLS instructor, this means "crazy person who carries their luggage on their back," ie. a backpacker. Though I believe the more objective definition of loololan is "one who wanders with luggage on their back," I believe I prefer Joshua's interpretation. As I begin packing my beloved backpack for another African adventure, I know many of you, like me, will find this name completely apropos for my blog.