Coup D'Etat

It has been almost 2 years since last I was in Sudan, and last I posted. I'm excited to see some of the changes in Khartoum that my family and friends have told me about. I'm just not sure if I'll make it in time, before things get really bad, and few planes will fly into country let alone the city. This might seem dramatic, but I am reminded of the recent battles in Abyei. Abyei is an interesting town and district. It literally straddles the traditional North-South border. On that border is a wealth of oil reserves. What in the past would have been simple, local border skirmish, is now transformed into a national struggle between the government in the North and the government in the South over the control of sizable wealth generating resource. It was once under the rule of the chief, prince if you will, of the Dinka Ngok. No one can doubt the legitimacy of the Dinka Ngok's claim to Abyei, the problem is where to draw the lines, where does their land stop and Misseria land began?
The Dinka Ngok are the proxy of the government of the South, and the Misseria ethnic group are the proxy of the government of the North. Sadly, armed and unarmed civilians on both sides pay the price.
On a hopeful note, an agreement was recently signed between the two parties, with the inclusion of peace monitors. Furthermore, the case of Abyei has been referred to the International Court, both sides vowing to accept its verdict.
Despite this slimmer of optimism, I cannot forget the images from the attempted coup nearly a month ago. They say bad things come in threes, and overseas nearly a month ago there were no exceptions. There natural disasters that claimed the lives of thousands in Burma and China, and the quieter man made, and failed coup in Sudan. The last was reported for a day or two, and then forgotten at least in the western media. In Sudan, and other countries pictures were aired on television, printed in newspapers. Some showed devastated civilian areas of Omdurman, but most showed captured rebels. For the most part they were dead, not shot to death by military, no bullet wounds to be found. Rather their horribly disfigured bodies reveal a darker and brutal death.
It is understood, implicit in Sudanese politics that a failed coup means certain death for the perpetrators. It is expected that after a trial of sorts, the death sentence is carried out by hanging, or firing squad. Although a flawed process, it gave us some semblance of order. It allowed us Sudanese to pretend that we were an organized, orderly, and honorable and law abiding people. It allowed us to forget the illegitimacy of the current Khartoum regime, as soldiers paraded the streets exclaiming God is greater. Perhaps we thought we are not as savage as we had been portrayed in history.
However, those days of burying our heads in the sand are long gone. Aljazeera, and countless online newspapers and blogs will not let us forget the brutal images of this failed coup. What is more sinister perhaps is the Khartoum regime’s apparent sanctioning of the pictures for public consumption. The regime apparently saw nothing wrong in its treatment of the “terrorists.” Extrajudicial beatings, tortures and other crimes were merely a “democratically” elected government’s right to defend itself against a terror group. There are rumors in the press that the American government tipped off the regime in Khartoum about the coup, and that Libya and not Chad was involved in heavily arming the rebels. Whatever the case, Sudanese in Diaspora cannot continue to wring their hands, and shake their heads in dismay. Many of us non-Darfuris have been silent about the civil war in the South, about the recent atrocities of Darfur, thinking they had nothing to do with us, except perhaps blackening our reputation and the name of our great nation. The rebels may have suffered defeat, but they promised that as long as the citizens of Darfur cannot dwell in peace, neither will those in Khartoum. And what seemed to many, a conflict in far off provinces, is now very much in danger of engulfing the oh so great elephant trunk known as Khartoum, the city where the two Niles meet.
It was particularly painful for many of us who had broken bread, laughed and discussed secularism versus Islamism in government with these so-called terrorists less than a year ago. Only to see their disfigured, bloodied and broken bodies on the television, on the internet and in print, I had avoided looking at the pictures, telling myself I did not want to dishonor their memories. But it was an excuse to help me sleep and finally I did look at the pictures, studying them carefully. I felt a great sadness and pain for them, for their families. I felt shame for the country, and for all of us who are silently complicit in the rape of women and children, the rape of the quintessential Sudanese character, albeit a sexist one, but one that is upright and honorable.
If Zimbabwe has taught us anything, by us I mean dictators and others hungry for power, it is to not post the results of individual polling stations. This makes it incredibly difficult to stuff ballots and generally steal the election. I wonder what lessons the regime in Khartoum will take from the catastrophe in Zimbabwe. I so admire the opposition they put their lives on the line; I just wish they had better neighbors that would be bold enough to step forth. The domestic troubles of Zimbabwe have spilled beyond its borders, and the arguments of sovereignty have lost all legitimacy.

Travels

Surprisingly I didn't cry. I imagined heartwrenching scenes, but it was a calm affair. The only time I shed a tear was when my aunt started to cry. On the day I was leaving I got henna done on both my hands, and my ankles. I met up with some friends, and I finished packing at the 11th hour.
The airport was especially busy so my uncle and my cousins had to wait outside while I checked in my luggage. I ended up paying for my overweight luggage. I know I was robbed blind by the smarmy Egyptian BA representative and his Sudanese cow associate, but at the time I just wanted to leave. I paid my exit visa, of $20.00 went outside and ate my sandwich. My uncle bought me a meal from my favorite fastfood place called Amwaj, or "The Wave". We sat on the fence just outside the airport hall, talking and eating. Finally the time came to leave, we hugged and I walked into the hall. Little did I know my plane would be late and I would have to wait another hour. On the plane I sat next to these Swedish Sudanese people. They made me realize that I don't want to have kids anytime soon. The child was around 6, either a genius or had attention deficit disorder or both. Throughout the plane ride he would ramble on in five differnt languages.
At Heathrow I missed my plane. I ended up waiting four hours for the next United flight. I didn't much care, but whiling away the time was a problem. Once clearing security at the boarding gate I sat down and listened to music. An airport official came up to me and asked for my passport. She asked me where I was coming from, what I was doing there, where my family is etc, that was the first time it happened to me, and I think I was a little offended. I had just been traveling for more than 24 hours without sleep, and I was just "out of it".
United seatings really are uncomfortable, I was in the middle seating, and in those seatings I was in the middle. I sat next to this rightwing catholic guy who kept saying hail mary on his rosary. That I liked, what I didn't like is when he got a newspaper "Right wing Catholics are Us" and started reading an article entitled "White Guilt and Islamic Terror." Underneath it was a picture of minarets of a mosque and the shadow of what I presumed to be the devil.
At Dulles we had to wait an hour for our luggage to be put on the baggage belt. Customs were friendly as usual. I was so happy to see my parents and brothers waiting for me. Its good to be back, but I feel so strange. Its going to take me a while to adjust. But its good to be home.

The Last Day

Today I took my last ride on a riksha, its a three wheeled car like vehicle. I took my last ride to the bus to university. Every morning when I'm in the capital I walk to the end of the lane, usher for a riskha. Its so great I don't even have to talk, the rules of the transportation are so well established that everything is in tacit agreement. I just get in, the driver takes me to the end of the road, and I hand him the money. Then I cross the road, wait for the bus to Souk Al Arabi. When we pass the railroad tracks, I click my fingers and usually after a couple of seconds I am dropped off near the main gates of the medical school of University of Khartoum. Sometimes it takes a lot to make my way to the door of the bus, I usually step on the hem of my skirt and end up mooning all of Sudan.
Today they threw me a going away partyat the Institute, I didn't cry but it was touching. I stuffed my self with cookies, and cake, and drank tons of tea with milk. It was all rushed because I needed to take care of final details, I really can't believe that its almost here, the day of departure.
My favorite uncle left today, to go to Nuhud, our home town in western Kordofan. I got a taste of what it will be like Monday at 11pm. He told me not to cry, and then we both got teary eyed. I hadn't seen him in three years because he'd been living in Saudi Arabia for the past five years.
I want to come back, I know I want to leave for the States, but I want to come back to Sudan soon, mostly for academic/research purposes, and God willing I'll make it back again.
I've seen so many different ways of life. Here I was invited to dinner by two professors at the Institute. Both come from very leftist families that are traditionally considered part of the elite, at home they speak Arabic but are fluent in English and other European languages. Their children go to private schools, and they dine out, when dining is still considered a very western thing. In Rahad I ate with the head of a village who spoke in an Arabic dialect I could barely understand, who couldn't write his name, who had very little but at the same time had so much in terms of respect, pride and kindess. Everyone thought it was strange that I, a female, shared a lunch tray with the sheikh, but he made allowances for me, being "khawajiya" or western.
All those experiences made my stay here so amazing, hard, but worthwhile. I hope that next year I'll find Sudan more prosperous and peaceful than it has been in the past, more than that I hope to find myself here again, doing work I love with people who understand, and have a passion.

Kenya

Last night I met up with the gang, well the gang I grew up with in Kenya. It was the best night I had in the past three months. It was so great, so comforting, there were moments of silence where we just soaked up the nostalgia. We never went to school together but we were neighbors and our parents are best friends. We are all Sudanese and would meet up during social events.One of them still lives in Kenya and is just on vacation but the other three now live in Sudan. It was great because I was able to shed my mask to be myself because these are the people who really know me, who grew up with me, who I don't have to make excuses to about my un-Sudanese behavior.
Globalization is a great thing, it makes it easier to be connected across oceans and land masses but at the same time, it is because of globalization that people are scattered far away from their homelands.
Things are winding down and I probably will write another entry before leaving. All in all I'm very fortunate, and I thank God for this experience.

Friendly Advesaries or not so Friendly

I've come to realize that in trying to do anything that involves more than two people you are bound to step on someone's toes, to create advesaries. The hope is that the goals are accomplished, memories are made and life long friendships established. In my short time here I have managed to step on so many toes. I feel like one of the most hated people in the country. At the same time I've met and worked with so many great, interesting people and despite all the obstacles and challenges I would not trade a moment.
I have less than a week left. I'm getting nostalgic and trying to do as many things as possible before leaving. I've gotten closer to my family here, gotten to know people indidivually. I get a little emotional thinking about leaving them.
I'm stressed out thinking about the security situation in the airports of England and the U.S. I pray for safety, and I'm hoping there won't be any delays.
Everyone here is making fun of me, painting scenarios of me being stuck, marooned either in Sudan or somewhere in Europe. The scenarios are not attractive in the least.
I'm making the rounds, visiting people and being invited. At the same time I have work related issues. Its a little stressful doing the juggling. Right now the U.S. represents stress-free zone, where I can breathe a little, not have to think of how to act or what to say, and what the ulterior motive might be.

Lebanon

I was reading an email from a Lebanese friend yesterday. He was telling me how people at the university, at the American University of Beirut are all applying to Canada and other places because they are just not sure when classes will start. Some of them are now working for ngos, and relief agencies in Lebanon trying to get water, food and offer medical services to internally displaced people.
The fate of Lebanon is deeply emotional subject for most northern Sudanese. They see it as an attack to Arabs and Muslims by the West and Israel. My younger cousins are singing songs and marching for Lebanon. There are moments of silence to comemorate those that have died. It is painful for me to see images on the news. I lived there for six months. I cannot believe the devastation I see on the T.V. It took the Lebanese at least 10 years to rebuild their country and economy after the civil war only to have to deal with this. I cannot believe that the historic pheonician and roman temples of Baalbek, Byblos and Tsur have been destroyed.
Many here think it is a conspiracy of Israel and the West to rid themselves of HizbAllah, Iran and Syria in the Middle East once and for all. They are not so wrong in their conclusions. But just like most of the wars and attacks on the region this one will most likely backfire and innocent civilians both in the region and outside will end up paying with their lives.

Security Alert

So I find myself trying to input all the data we've gathered into Excel and emailing it to myself. This is because of the heightened security alert around the world more specifically in Europe and the United States. So apparently we are not allowed to take hand baggage which poses a real problem for me because I was planning to stuff my questionnaires into a small bag to take on with me. I can't risk losing all that information, so thus I'm stuck inputing.
On the bright side it will save me a lot of time when I get back to the States. Some how I really can't see the light at the end of the tunnel. I really would like to leave today or tomorrow because of how frustrated I feel. Despite all this I think no I know that I will shed tears at the airport for my family, the new friends I've made, and the memories.

The Souk and other Misadventures

Two days ago I went to souk al-arabi or the Arab Market. The trip was last minute, we left the house at 8pm and returned at 11pm. We bought some things for my aunt who was leaving to Qatar the day after. It reminded me of the souks I had been to in Damascus, Syria and Baalbek, Lebanon. It had a very north African, or Middle Eastern feel to it. There were open market stalls, mixed with more modern closed stores housed in the new mall.
I've become really good at bargaining because I bargain when I take rikshas or minibuses into town almost everyday, so shopping was kind of fun. I'm really going to be sad when southern Sudan and other parts decide to secede. What I love so much about Sudan is the diversity. Everyday when I ride the bus I people watch and I see so many amazing things and different ways of life on my way to and from university. Sudan really is the crossroads of so many cultures and traditions, every color of the rainbow. The country will never be the same if secession is chosen.

The Black Market

Yesterday I received a very annoying phone call from someone in the regional ministry of health involved in the malaria program. He wanted to know why I hadn't returned most of the malaria drugs he'd given us three weeks ago. What happened is that we had decided to give a bulk of it to these two villages that we had worked in our last days in Rahad. During the rainy season which officially began, these two villages usually get cut off from the main city. We had also left a bulk with the city clinic. When I informed him of this he acqueisced. What I realized is that he and others probably wanted to sell these drugs to pharmacies and possibly local drug companies. Eventhough these drugs are given to the government for free or at a reduced price from the Word Health Organization (WHO) or the UNDP. When I went with ministry staff to pick up the drugs from the warehouse I was stunned by the amount of things they had there. Most of it never gets distributed among the province. It sits there to be sold. Sadly this violation doesn't only occur in government operations but I heard that it is perpetrated by individuals working at the World Food Program (WFP). Its pretty despicable but I guess there are always those who profit illegitmately in wars, famines and epidemics.

Poop preparations continued

I forgot I never continued the fecal slide preparations. So yeah after you put it on hard poster paper and add normal saline you place a kato mesh over it, it acts as a filter so half digested matter stays behind. With a slide you scrap off the brown/reddish juice on the top. This is what you place on another slide. In our method you use to slides per sample. Urine is pretty easy compared to feces.
Its Friday and its the one an only off day.I'm supposed to go to the park with my family, and then later hang out with a friend. I'm finally beginning to enjoy myself and unwind. I think by the time I get really comfortable I'll be boarding a plane heading back.

The Small World

Yesterday my belief about the extent of globalization was reconfirmed. A year ago I met this guy who was a guest lecturer at my undergraduate institution in ohio. I met him in Obeid, Sudan. Since then we've emailed and been in touch. Last night I met this guy who wrote a paper about Darfur that I cited for my final paper in my politics seminar entitled "Ethnic and Religious Conflict in the Middle East and North Africa" in undergraduate.
Last night I went out to this place called Ozone. Its a place that has baked goods, pastries, ice cream and drinks. The seating is outside in this garden. Its only open at night, and the garden is kept cool and moist because every 15 seconds cool air/gaseous water is sprayed out. I plan on going out or hanging out with friends at least three or four times a week.
The dude we met last night is doing research on the role of religious organizations in the peace process between the north and south. It was an interesting discussion, there are a lot of things going on behind the scenes.
Ok I'm going to go look at some slides.

Malaria Training

Next week I'm supposed have a intensive course on malarial diagnoses at the Ministry of Health. Sudan has not only taught me patience but it has taught me the importance of connections. I came in an innocent, well more like a naive creature, and have come out some what more aware individual. I'm trying to get them to give me a leishmaniasis course on my next visit God willing.
I miss the kindness of people in Rahad. I guess its the same for any nation, country folk are simpler kinder than city folk. A lot of the schools we went to had nothing, but everytime we went they would prepare a huge meal for us. There was a lot of trust and I hope we lived up to their expectation, and were worthy of it. I hope to go back to Rahad for two days or more during this trip.
Things are heating up in Darfur. Two weeks ago the fighting breached the borders into Northern Kordofan. The fighting, killing still continues in Fasher, Western Darfur. I can't wait until the UN troops are sent, let's hope they have a wider mandate than the AU troops. Ten years ago I could say with all confidence that the Sudanese population is generally a peaceful one, and would not put up a fuss if foreign peace keepers came in. Presently I don't think there would be much opposition violent or non-violent, but there is more of a possibility today than it was a decade ago. People are becoming extreme. There's a lot of anger, most of it is the result of a corrupt, dictatorial regime, but its cleaner, feels better to blame the "West."
I'm really getting tired of skirts and scarves. I've become an expert at tying a scarf, but the skirt thing I haven't gotten down yet.Mooning here is like showing a bit of lace or undies. I fear that according to this definition I have mooned half the country. For some reason when I get up, off my seat on the bus, I always step on the hem of my skirt and pull it down a litte, you can imagine the gawking stares I receive.
I'm getting tired again of the routine I really miss the States. I'm missing doughnuts right now, and bad T.V. I know the three weeks I have left will be over before I know it, but it's just not going fast enough. I sort of missing making fecal slides, blood seems real tame compared to it.
I've been invited to a couple of weddings. I think I'll probably go, I've discovered that there are lots of cute Sudanese guys. And there is one thing the Sudanese population loves to do,flirting.

Vacationing

Vacationing is so different from working somewhere. I feel like a veil was lifted from my sight. I'm noticing and realizing things I never even saw or thought about before. Besides the academic benefits of the project I made a whole slew of friends.
It wasn't all cookies and cream, we fought like cats and dogs, the members of the team, but eventually we made up. The stress of the field got to us, and some of the members are particularly hot headed. One of them still thinks I'm in love with him. Note to self don't ever flirt with a Sudanese guy they might think you want to have their children.
Rahad was great. The townspeople were so kind to us, and helped us during our project. A couple of the middle school girls had crushes on the guys on the team. They would come by our lab/resting area every afternoon. Most of us thought it was cute but one dude that it was inappropriate. He went so far as to rudely tell them off. That was another source of bickering and arguing.
I haven't been out on the town since I came back from Rahad. I'm itching to go out and have fun with the weeks I have left. I know it'll be over before I know it. I really like living with my uncle and his family. I'm never around small children back in Virginia but here I'm surrounded by kids aged 9 months to 11 years.
Despite all the frustrations of the field, in the general state of the country and my disappointments in people, somehow I find myself wanting to ocme back next year and continuing to work in the same field.

Smelly Things

Some of my lab mates are wondering, or rather have morbid curiousity of what it is like to make fecal slides. I will satisfy their morbid curiousity. Urine slides are a piece of cake so to speak compared to fecal slides. The first time I prepared one, I was excited because that moment symbolized all the hard work I had put in planning the field. The smell didn't hit me. The second time I almost keeled over. First you give a small container about the same size and shape as urine containers you are given in the doctors office. You tell your kid to poop in the container. There is a little spoon in the container with the spoon you use it to put it in on some hard poster paper. You add some saline to soften it up, its kind of like cooking. Anyhow I won't go into the morbid details.
I have to go read some thick and thin smears now. But more details to follow.

Anniversary

Today marks the year anniversary of the death of Dr. John Garang. The capital is empty, many people are wary of going to work because they are afraid. They are afraid that the events of last year might happen this year. For two weeks the capital was the epitome of wartorn African country. Weeks after they were pulling dead bodies out of the canals. There are still burned and destroyed cars and buildings in the capital.
Most people in the north want separation they think it will solve everything, some don't even mind if Darfur decides to split as well. That won't solve anything, most of the would be countries aren't viable nations within themselves.
I'm glad to be back in the capital because the bulk of the survey and collection is over. But I miss the weather back in the west, the capital is scorchingly hot.

Rahad Continued

I'm writing from Rahad, theres a tech genius in our team and he figured how to boot his computer to gprs for free. Right nbw he's my favorite person in the world. What was I saying before, so far we've covered seven schools we have three more to go. I'm the only female on the team at times its annoying because after we finish working they go off smoke sheesha, drink cofftea and observe females. I like a good Sudanese girl go back to the Nazir's house.
I've become a minicelebraty in town. Everyone knows my name is Lina the Khawajiya, or westerner. In fact in two days I'm supposed to give a talk about the projects findings, and what my life is like as a Sudanese American.
The project, the trip, life in the field has been bitter sweet. I've gotten to know everyone really well. For the most part I get a long with them. There's only one dude I absolutely can't stand, and most people on the team feel the same. You really get to know someone when they are outside they're comfort zone. I'm going to miss my team though, for they're a good bunch of guys.
Yesterday was an extremely bad day for me. First we forgot to tell a school that we were coming the next day, so they had prepared meals for us, and were waitng for us the whole morning and part of the afternoon. This was the poorest school in the area, when I think of the resources they spent on the meals I feel sick. The next thing that happened was a doctor from the state ministry of health called and basically insulted me and then hung up on me. He was supposed to work with us for a week, but we found a doctor in Rahad so we called and told him. He called to deny the phone call, to threaten me, and tell me that he wanted me to send back the malaria medicine (artesemine)and the microscopes that the ministry of health had given us. Its all good because one of my Sudanese supervisors is the director of the national schistosomiasis and malaria program, and Sudan is all about connections. I won't say the bastard didn't affect my day he basically ruined it.
Minor annoyances, but like funny occurences is that the director of education in Rahad keeps saying he's betrothed me to his nephew. Thats only after he figured out he's the same age as my father, he was hoping I might be his fourth wife.
I'm happy despite all the little hurdles and annoyances. I've learned how to go about doing field work in Sudan, and made some valuable connections. I dare say maybe even friends. Either way though I've come to the conclusion that I'm not a typical Sudanese and that perhaps thats ok. I wasn't meant to be that, and I most likely won't be marrying someone from my country. I've forgotten about the Irish Sufi, they're rare like leprechauns or gold pots at the end of rainbows.

Rahad

I've been on the "field" for a week now. Rahad is a small town between Umruwaba and Obeid. The latter being the largest city in western Sudan. The field has been so far rated as with 80% success rate by those who have been on fields. But its been frustrating. First of all we had to ship most of our supplies so they arrived a day or two after us. Then when we arrived, the water was green. I have been taking showers in green water, no doubt i've contracted some disease giardia if not schistos but thats all good. Then we have this one guy on the team he's such a nag, and such negative energy. All he does is complain and nag and complain. The thing is he doesn't do anything, just brings the whole team down. Sadly my minutes in internet heaven are up, no doubt we will continue this conversation at a later date, most likely in the capital.

Old Friends

If anyone from the states saw me in Sudan they wouldn't recognize me, especially when I'm at the Institute. I wear long skirts, and a headscarf. I look like a hijabi. Its actually kind of amusing how clothe and cultural contexts changes the way people look. I met a friend of mine from my time at Beirut, and he didn't recognize me. I think I speak differently as well, but that is the way things go I guess.
I met a childhood friend of mine the other day. We grew up in Kenya together. He's lived in Sudan for five years and he's not exactly completely Sudanese but he's adapted. He works for a bank, and was talking about how difficult it is for him since Arabic is his second language. He said he bought grade 6 and7 Arabic grammar books so he could improve his language skills. So when his younger brother who was basically born and raised in Kenya asked about if it would be possible for him to eventually work in Sudan, my friend laughed. His younger brother can barely string a sentence in Arabic let alone read and write.
This trip so far has taught me three things about myself. One I'm not as Sudanese as I think, and two I can be very patient, and three I want to come back to Sudan. I came to this conclusion through my interaction with my peer group outside my family. There are times when people at the Institute will be talking to me, I understand the words, but there are little nuances and cultural intonings that go over my head.
There is something in the water or in the air, because there are subliminal messages everywhere to get married. I have a fear that I'll come back engaged or married without even realizing it. My family is doing formation of the mating/marriage dance I feel like they are planning in earnest to introduce me to eligible males. Sadly I'll have to disappoint them.

Weddings and Rahad

So during familial visit to Obeid, I made my way to Rahad. Well not that I crept into the night, I went with my cousin and great uncle. I met the medical director for Rahad hospital, the superintendent of schools, and the nazir/emir, i.e. the tribal head of the largest ethnic group in the area. It was a very fruitful and necessary visit. It was also a sad visit because there is an outbreak of cholera in Rahad. The medical director had gone to the capital of the province to ask for financial assistance from the state health ministry, as expected no help was given. It just emphasized to me how our federal spending is all wrong, and how the areas outside the capital are marginalized in every way. If all goes according to plan I should be in Rahad this Thursday. I'm really excited, in fact I had a dream last night that I was in a classroom, and I was accepting stool and urine samples from children.
As to my less than professional interest in one of my colleagues. We'll see what happens, nothing more romantic than being surrounded by feces, urine and blood. Rahad is where the action is at. The weather in Obeid was really nice, it rained so its kind of depressing being back in the hot, hot capital.
This morning we went to the airport to see off my new bride, my cousin. She's probably arrived by now in Jeddah, Saudi Arabia where she was no doubt met by her new husband. She ruined her make up with her tears and the tears of my relatives.
I'm feeling really tired and sleepy eventhough it is only 3pm. I have a tons of other things to do, so sadly I can't actually go to sleep.

The United Nations

Today I got into a discussion about the UN troops that are apparently destined for Sudan. Under the comprehensive peace agreement between the north and the south, and the recent agreement for Darfur there was an understanding that there would be international peace keeping troops. True to form, the government wants to go back on their word. The disagreement of whether to accept troops or not has reached the highest cables of the government. The second vice president Ali Osman, one of the engineers of the comprehensive peace agreement, and who is in support of peacekeeping troops, has taken a leave of absence for an unspecified period of time. It is rumored that he has relocated his entire family to Turkey. I really hope that this peacekeeping troop will be empowered and mandated to engage in combat if the terms of the cease fire and agreement are violated. The president in front of the parliament gave a long impassioned speech about protecting the land from foreign invaders and other such evocative images of religion of Iraq etc. He was asked by one of the MPs whether any of the ordinary citizens were behind him in defending the country, for after all he, the president, had failed them in basic things such as education, health, and security.
I like being at an institution where research is happening. It gives me hope that scholarship can still continue even under duress. There are a small but very dedicated cadre of researchers and scholars and its important for Sudanese in the diaspora to support their work. On a sad note I've discovered, or rather it came to my attention that cancer is now the third leading killer of Sudanese. Its a phenomena common to most of the developing world. Infectious disease are not things of the past, but chronic diseases are getting up there. The problem is there hasn't been extensive epidemiological work on the reasons why cancer rate has sky rocketed, and it certain types of cancer.
I was pleasantly surprised to see advertisements about the importance of safe sex, and AIDS and sexually transmitted diseases. I'm told it is all because of the new health minister, a southern Sudanese doctor, and a woman I might add. She is pushing through this campaign with the help of UNAIDS. I'm not sure how effective its been but its early days yet.
A note about my project God willing I'll be going to the field at the end of the week. But first I'll enjoy pleasantries of my cousin's wedding.