A little Uneasy

Kudral Moth Mia~ June 7, 2008
Yesterday evening it began raining around 5 o’clock. It was a rain close to what you’d experience during a hurricane. Whipping winds rattled our tent city. Thunder and lightening penetrated my tent lining as I lay in bed literally feeling the electricity saturating my skin. All I could do was pray that it wouldn’t strike me dead. Everyone scattered to their respective “homes” when the rain began. I sat alone with my thoughts trying to keep myself occupied by reading God Grew Tired of Us. I’m not in the happiest part of the book, not that there are happy parts, but it’s where John has just settled into the Kakuma Refugee Camp. Everything I’ve read and heard in the states has become so real for me- from understanding the importance of cows in Dinka culture to navigating a landscape filled with such a dark history. Being here has changed my perspective on life, on hope, despair, and resiliency and the ability to live in fear.
Eventually the rain turned to a steady stream that was bearable to move around in. We all crept out of our tents and one by one slid by way of mud into the designated “office.” We gathered around a candle to eat our rice, beans and posho and drink tea. It was cozy and all seemed right for the moment. One by one, through the glistening night each retreated back to our tents.
My setup has evolved into a nice dwelling space. I actually have a mattress and a bed in my tent so it’s much more manageable then what I anticipated. I snuggled back into my nest, read more about John Dau and drifted to sleep, while listening to the pitter patter of the rain against my tent. I’ve never slept as well as I do here. I think it’s because each day is mentally, emotionally and physically taxing. I slept while other in my camp lay awake worrying about our safety. I wasn’t aware of the information that was moving through camp. I awoke to the unsettling news.
A group known as the LRA, Lord’s Resistance Army, a terrorist group from Uganda began its attacks again with Sudan, Uganda and the Congo responding that, “enough is enough.” Joseph Kony and his rebel group made its way to the villages of Nabanga and Yamba killing 21 people which included six children. Their intended path was/is towards Kajo Keji, at the Sudan-Uganda border. This is not very far from where our school site is located. We really didn’t know what to do. Evacuate immediately? Call the SPLA (Sudanese Peoples Liberation Army?) The Yei and Lainya county commissioner? And so on. But before we tacked Joseph Cony and company our first mission of the morning was to get Sasha to the airport. She’d missed it two days earlier and missing this one was not acceptable. We needed to get her out of southern Sudan. Lauren, Sasha and I hopped in the Land Cruiser and off we went. Not 10 minutes into our ride we got stuck. We were trapped in the biggest, blackest, wettest hole of mud-tires spinning but going know where. We jumped out and began digging, pushing cursing, anything to get the damn vehicle to move. Oh what a sight we were. Time to call in the troops. Marlen, Camis and Mousa came to our rescue with the tipper truck and with some good team work got us out It was smooth sailing for the next hour, that’s the only way you can live here, moment to moment. We made to the airport with 10 minutes to spare. Sad yet relieved we watched Sasha board the plan for Entebbe. (I have to write one full entry on Sasha. A young girl of 19 she has changed lives and will make the world a better place wherever she goes.)
The rest of our day was spent on the GO. We moved between the commissioner’s offices, to the SPLA Police barracks, UN/UNHCR, to calling local NGO’s on advice and while sneaking in a cup of tea. My trip to Sudan has many layers to it, one of those is wearing the hat of a NESEI Board member and Chair of the Sudan Operations committee. I came here intending to set up our security procedures but didn’t anticipate doing it in the situation.
We spent Saturday and Sunday assessing and contemplating what, if any action to take. After a visit from the commissioner who vowed to defend us, we decided not to evacuate. The locals vowed to serve and protect us. We continued business as usual not breathing a word of this to the girls.
After our decision was made in regards to the girls I decided it was best for me to take leave from the site for a few days. The advice we received was that while we weren’t in immediate danger having a kawajja (white) staying there wasn’t the safest. My exhaustion was taking me to a place where I couldn’t think straight. This is not what you need in times like these. Being held accountable for 45 girls is a big deal. I feel personally responsible for their safety and over all well being. They are young, innocent and vulnerable-an easy target for a madman.
I’ve spent the last week at the CTC (Crop Training Center) where we have a room. I’ve been working on security protocols, emergency procedures and meeting great new allies at the UNHCR and Samaritan’s Purse. I miss the site and the girls. I think today may be the day to reunite with them.