Sudan Trip
May 2008


For some reason I feel more anxiety than I have in the past. I do not know why. I have strange dreams that I can’t remember and wake up several times throughout the night. In San Francisco I picked up the two fifty pound suitcases of books, and along with a carry on bag with all my personal items, slowly walked to the international terminal. I tried to get a cart, but did not have enough quarters. Who carries around $3.50 in quarters? I could have paid with a $20, but I didn’t want $16.50 in quarters for change. A man walked past me while I was moving my carry on bag to the other shoulder and laughed that I needed a cart. I said yes, I tried, but it was a long story. Five minutes later he comes walking back from the direction I was headed with a cart for me. Needless to say I was very grateful. It struck me as one of the nicest things anyone has ever done for me. Particularly someone I didn’t even know and would never see again. I thought about that a lot.

I met Boardwalk in London and we had dinner at a seafood place in Heathrow. His plane was a little late in arriving so we elected to stay at the airport rather than take the subway into London. Plus, that restaurant is pretty good and I knew we wouldn’t be getting any more shrimp with cucumbers and soy sauce for a while. The French bread and Stella were good too.

We arrived into Kampala, near Lake Victoria, in the capital of Uganda. Sam and Deng met us at the airport and we drove about forty minutes to the house Sam rents in Kampala. It was especially great to see Deng again. (I call him Ding Ding) He is an extraordinary individual. During meals we talked about the now famous Lost Boys of Sudan and what they endured. Deng was one of them, only instead of seeking an opportunity to emigrate to the United States he chose to stay and fight so his children could live in peace. Without men like him the people of Southern Sudan would have nothing. They should never forget that. After a quick breakfast that included the biggest avocadoes I’ve ever seen by far, we piled into the various vehicles and began our journey to Gulu, near the Sudanese border. What a nightmare. Usually it takes about five or maybe six hours, but this time it took us almost ten hours on a very hot and very dusty road with seven million potholes. We drank bottle after bottle after bottle of water and just threw the empty bottles out the window. I laughed when I saw the look on Boardwalk’s face the first time I did it. We wouldn’t think of doing that in America, but in Africa we make a show of it, or at least I do (sometimes). People along the road love to have the bottles and appreciate the “gift.” After a several hours of being bounced around and not being able to breathe I found myself getting very frustrated and visualizing our freeways at home. Throw in the suicidal drivers and I plan to arrange for a flight in a bush plane next time.

A village we stopped at for lunch on the way to Gulu

After spending the night in Gulu we awoke early and headed into Sudan. Again, it took much longer than usual and after six hours we arrived at the orphanage. I can’t wait to take a plane next time and I don’t care where we have to land!

One of the first kids I saw. His name is Neall and he is always following us around. He seems to remember me, but maybe that is just wishful thinking. He is seven years old.

Boardwalk and I worked the first few days exclusively on installing electrical wire and lights into some of the new buildings, including the new library. They have a generator that runs a couple of hours per week. We also managed to replace many of the high-powered lights that surround the perimeter in case of an attack.

Boardwalk putting his electrical skills to work

Neall and his two buddies. Three boys I could adopt.

I was so tired at the end of each day, but it was a good tired knowing that we accomplished so much. I was also able to get mostly clean which helped me sleep a little better. There is not a lot to say about dinner each night, other than the fact that we actually get to have it. Rice and beans for the most part. Sometimes goat. We did have some hot sauce from China. Lying in bed and reading by flashlight I watched the bugs circling around the outside of my mosquito net.

After finishing the electrical work we got started on the holes for the trees we wanted to plant. It is so hot there and a little bit of shade makes an incredible difference. Sam planted quite a few trees in one area a few years back and they are doing great. When there is a breeze it blows through the trees and can actually make things pleasant. There is an area where four of the dorms come together that we thought would make a great place to plant shade trees and then in a year or two, once the trees are a little bigger, put some picnic tables in the middle. Hopefully the trees will make it. They have a lot of things working against them, goats in particular. To protect against them and all kinds of other living threats, we built wooden structures over the trees and surrounded them with a bush we found nearby that has razor sharp edges.

James is one of the hardest working people I’ve ever met and he helped us a lot. He has been at the orphanage for almost ten years now. He is seventeen years old.

It is interesting to see how some of the older kids are very hard workers and some of the others are as lazy as they come. I guess I would have thought they would all be hard workers, but this one kid must have been the laziest individual in Sudan. We got a lot of laughs out of that.

The future town square with big shade trees and several picnic tables. You just have to use your imagination a little bit, but not for long.

Boardwalk showing off those watering skills

A group of children that seemed especially interested in the electrical work. They also helped us clear (mostly) the grounds of trash, of which there was quite a bit.

We filled the electrical wire trenches with trash before filling them in again.

Someone wrote this (God is so Good) on the wall of the building they use for a church. It is a widely held conviction. At first glance I thought about how ironic it was, but the more I thought about it the less ironic it seemed. Here we are in one of the most difficult countries in the world to live in and people feel blessed; they are so thankful for what they have. They appreciate what they have. You might think they would be bitter, particularly towards God, about what little they actually do have. They are not. In fact, while they are very aware of America’s wealth, they love America and pray for America as THE beacon of justice and freedom in the world. They pray for God to give America even more wealth and to protect it from evil. On September 11^th, 2001, John Garang, the leader of Southern Sudan at the time (before he was assassinated by the North), stopped work for the day in the whole country so people could pray for America. Much of the world jumped up and down with joy on that day and very often those are the people we are most concerned about offending. We should be concerned about helping the people of Southern Sudan. Yet instead our concern is largely summed up by worrying about whether to call the people who attacked us “freedom fighters” or “militants” or “activists.”

The people in Southern Sudan often talk about America’s fight for freedom against the British. The long war with the North and their various proxies, including the Lord’s Resistance Army (LRA), is about that freedom for the South. The South wants prosperity and basic human rights, including the freedom to live under their own laws and not Sharia Law. They are willing and even eager to fight and die for those rights. Liberty, prosperity, and human rights are hallmarks of Western Civilization. These principles are the exact opposite of what you find in an Islamic society. The people of Southern Sudan wonder why people in America can’t see that. Why they can’t see that this is good and this is evil. It is as simple as it gets. It is as black and white as it gets. Why do people insist that no culture is superior to another?

This kid was so proud of his belt buckle

They put American flags everywhere

This kid carried his flag with him wherever he went

On Sunday morning at church and in the late evenings after it is dark, the kids often get together to sing songs and dance. They have some simple musical instruments that are homemade, but sound great. One of them is a large metal USA food can pounded flat and filled with lots of small rocks. It is a shaker of sorts and helps provide rhythm. It also puts out quite an incredible sound. While watching and listening to them I was thinking we should record a CD and sell it.

Kids at church with boxes of AK-47s in the background

While we were at the orphanage fifteen more children arrived. Mostly they were between six and eight years of age. Children become separated from their parents (and everyone else) during raids on their villages. Hopefully they can stay alive by getting food and water from people in the bush. Sometimes they make their way on foot for several days or even weeks to get to the orphanage or a relative’s village. Other times Sam will hire messengers to put the word out that in a week he will come to a specific location to pick up children and bring them to the orphanage. Always there are many more children than will fit in and on top of the vehicles. This of course puts Sam in the position of having to choose which kids to rescue and which kids to leave behind. Traveling through the bush for hours by Landcruiser with several soldiers is not inexpensive. Diesel was recently $22 a gallon in Sudan. It is also not safe. The LRA has resumed attacks in Southern Sudan. Not coincidentally, during the same time as a new offensive by the North in Abiye.

Getting some food after making it to the orphanage

To accommodate the new children we arranged for the purchase of ten, metal, three-level bunk beds and had them outfitted with blankets, mattresses, and mosquito nets. In the meantime they will have to sleep on the cement floor, which is a whole lot better than where they were sleeping. Plus they will be safe, relatively clean, and have full stomachs, even if it is just beans and rice. Hopefully they will quickly make lots of new friends and soon be strong enough to play soccer, something they all love. If they are even more fortunate, their parents will have survived the raid and find their way back to their children.

One of the goals of this trip was to learn more about children in Sudan who have mental illnesses. In Sudan, they call it “touched.” Specifically, what happens to them? Unfortunately they are generally ignored and kept inside away from other people. In extreme circumstances, for their own safety I’m told, they are chained to a tree. Slinky, the Sudanese man in charge of the orphanage was my main source of information. He spoke with me at length about the “touched” children and arranged for me to meet with one of them and his mother. They came from a nearby village to the orphanage. While walking with the young boy (he was maybe seven) all of a sudden the expression on his face dramatically changed to this incredible look of wonder. Like he’d seen an enormous, but friendly dinosaur or something. He was watching some of the kids play on the swing-set. I’m sure he had never seen a swing-set before and was surprised (maybe even shocked) to see other kids having so much fun. He was a little hesitant at first, but once we got him on the swing he seemed to really enjoy it in his own quiet way.

First time ever on a swing-set

The purpose of talking with Slinky and researching mental illness in Sudan was to determine if there was a need and a desire for a special place where these kids could get the professional attention they need and deserve. We plan to build one of those places as soon as possible.

Neall and me on the morning we left Sudan for Uganda