Friday 3 August 2007





The blog therapy

I am sitting on a sofa with my faithful Mac, sipping my evening mint tisane from an Ikea blue mug while I listen to Air’s Walkie Talkie album. The A/C is on and these halogen lamps make a very cosy atmosphere. I am thinking that right now I could be pretty much anywhere…somewhere in England or in a nicely furbished apartment of the French countryside. Instead I am in Rumbek, South Sudan. Yes, I am back to Rumbek after quite a long break (5 weeks) spent traveling all across Italy from Trieste to Catania (with many stops in between).
I am looking at the pics of the month I got to spend in Europe. Paris and some quite nostalgic dejà vus, some very sweet (and romantic) Roman sunsets under the pine trees of Villa Borghese, the blue sea of Sicily, the white marble of San Giorgio Maggiore basilica in the Venetian lagoon. There is a certain kind of ‘melancholy’ tonight although even more that melancholic I still feel ‘spaced out’ and I have hard time convincing myself of where I am right now.

This time coming back to Rumbek has not been easy. At all. And, although I was expecting it, I couldn’t have guessed it would be so tough. It’s been already 3 weeks that I am back here but I’ve struggled a lot to re-adjust myself to this place.

I can already imagine the puzzled expression of many of you who by now will be confusedly wondering what am I doing on a comfy sofa typing with the lights and even the A/C on. Indeed quite a few things have changed since I left Rumbek in June. I am no longer living under a iron-sheet roof room without electricity, with no furniture and with one latrine shared with 10 people. Our generous government decided to offer us a top-class accommodation in Rumbek’s top compound for expats. We have a first class apartment, full boarding, full optionals (electricity 24/7), swimming pool, and an almost first-world office (if it wasn’t for the creepy insects that get in at night). Outside in the parking lot all you can see are the shining white UN land cruisers and the only locals who are around are security guards, movers, or cleaners.

For sure my difficult re-adjustment has had something to do with my new lifestyle in this ‘golden cage’ surrounded by electric wired fence all around. Many days I get to spend long time sitting behind my desk in the office and taking full advantage of the permanent internet connection (well at least this time to do my work I don’t have to line up to use a computer in a stinky cybercafe, what the hell!).

(…)

Spending so many hours in front of a computer, I start wondering if I am turning into an ‘office animal’ again, in other words my previous life that made the ‘crazy’ Sudan plan start. This morning my sense of ‘claustrophobia’ is worse than in the past days. So, before I get another anxiety attack like yesterday afternoon, I decide to take a look at the world beyond the fence. I ask Ata, the driver, to take me for a little tour by car. Outside of the car windows Rumbek is drowning in the mud. We are at the peak of the rainy season. It rains almost everyday for 2-3 hours. And I have never seen such a huge amount of water falling in such a little time. There are ponds everywhere and some bright green tall herbs sprouting everywhere. Rumbek looks very different from the dry, red soil, dusty and burning hot landscape I remember.
Some naked kids are inside one of these ponds, by the main road. They are bent on their knees and moving their hands and they seem to search for something in this muddy and stinky water. Five minutes later I see some other kids filling up two cookings pots with that water. I feel a ‘knot’ at the top of my stomach. This is the place I left a month ago. Rumbek is welcoming you back, Gaetano.

It happens pretty much to all of us to ask ourself ‘what are we doing here?’. And it did happen to me before in several moments of my life. But when it happens to you while you are sitting in a crappy car and praying that also this time you will not get stuck in the water or annoyed by some drunk soldier who are insistently asking you to give them a ride somewhere then…it’s a bit different. And what is even harder is to explain to yourself why all of a sudden you seem to have no clue of what you are doing and looking for in muddy South Sudan.


Stormy days in Rumbek...


After having spent a couple of miserable days asking myself these questions I decide it’s about time I go talk to somebody. Maybe someone who has seen me here before…perhaps this person might help me remember who I was, what I was doing, what was I searching for. Actually it’s like I have an amnesia. I need something or somebody who can ‘switch’ something on inside my head and help me connecting the dots.
I decide to go see Orla, my friend Irish sister with whom I spent 3 weeks in the midst of the bush, in May. Orla is a ‘tough’ girl, I am sure she will challenge me if I need it. I need it – and she happens to be the right person in the right place and time. Her blue eyes get me off the wall. ‘Here it’s not about what you do, it’s about how this crazy place changes you. It’s not about your job, it’s about doing something with yourself. This is your golden opportunity, don’t loose it’. Few words are enough to make me realize that it was worthed coming back to Sudan even just for the amazing people I have come across here. Sometimes I call it my ‘Rumbek family’ and that must not be by accident. While chatting I confess to Orla that a few days ago I was thinking about quitting the mission, packing my things and back to Europe. ‘Don’t try to leave or I come and get you off that f***ng plane!’ Yes, in crazy South Sudan some sisters even say swear words. Thank God.
I tell the driver to go back to the compound without me. Today I feel like walking. I am thinking of Orla’s words and I feel I need to get my shoes muddy again, to shake the hands of all these kids who are running after me, to feel the dust sticking on my face. I need to refind the ‘real’ Rumbek and see what changed in the past month.

Back home I suddenly remember I had asked Massimo, an Italian doctor who works near Rumbek to come see me for a check up. Besides my mind it looks like this round also my body has had hard time re-adjusting to South Sudan. Some still unknown bacteria have been enjoying life in my intestine for the past 10 days and I ask Massimo to take a look at me. He gives me some strong antibiotics to try to get rid of these bacteria which are seemingly feeling very confortable in my intestine. I probably need some tests but here in Rumbek the health facilities are non existing. He says if I am not well I will have to fly to Nairobi for a serious screening. Now I start wondering if I will have to take that plane to Nairobi for real.

2 comments:

Ksenia said...

I can only imagine how difficult this adjusting is. But I believe if you see the results of your efforts ( are there any?) then you can overcome this sickness and 'lost-soul' feeling.
But do you think it is right and fair that your living conditions are extremely different from those of local people?

gaevivo said...

Is is fair or ethical to live in a 'first world' accommodation when you are in one of the world's poorest countries?I am afraid I dont have the answer to thing long-debated issue.However I must tell you I am glad I could experience both a very basic (and local people-friendly) accommodation - as I did in the first three months I was here - and now to be in a fancy and very fenced compound for UN and other expats. Because the longer I stay here the more I feel that also this is Rumbek and also this (sad) storis needs to be told and must make us reflect.The other day I was sitting at the dinner table with a bunch of UN militaty observers and at some point I felt so unconfortable after having heard the latest racist comments on local people that I had to leave.
In a way I feel that bearing every day this kind of things is the real price to pay for having electricity and a bunch of other comforts.