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.
Wednesday, June 27, 2007
Friday, June 22, 2007
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.
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.
Wednesday, June 20, 2007
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!
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!
Saturday, June 16, 2007
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.
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.
Thursday, June 14, 2007
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!
“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!
Saturday, June 9, 2007
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.
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.
Wednesday, June 6, 2007
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.
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