Please note that any opinions expressed in this blog are those of Chip Duncan and do not represent any other organizations or individuals. Darfur is a place of constant change and any statistical references are approximate and may change rapidly. If you are reading this after January, 2008, please verify any information with up-to-date and verifiable resources.
Day 9 – January 9th, 2008 – Both Bob and I have flights in the middle of the night (that is, very early a.m. on the 10th). So we both try to maximize any sleep we can get. Alas, for me sleep never seems to work when it’s daylight so I’m up early.
It’s a holiday in Sudan so most people are off work and many are celebrating. One of our hosts from the R.I. office takes Bob and me for another sightseeing trip around Khartoum that includes a stop along the Nile to watch a “peace parade.” It’s a beautiful day and the parade includes small groups of dancers and performers from various tribes around the country. People are genuinely enjoying the spectacle of events – and we do too.
After walking and watching for about an hour, we head to the National Museum for a quick tour. Quick is the optimum word here because only the first floor is open. I’m not a big one for old museum artifacts but clearly, one thing stands out – the Sudanese and Egyptians shared a culture long ago. There are a number of huge monuments mimicking the sphinx and the museum has several examples of the sarcophagus along with jewelry and some textiles. I’m not an expert on antiquities and not likely to become one, so most of what we see and hear from our guide goes in one ear and out the other.
What is apparent in the museum is the lack of artifacts and exhibits featuring the cultures of southern and western Sudan. Sudan is a country at a crossroads of sorts – the north seems to have much in common with Arab cultures to the north and east while the south and southwest share significant ties to east and central Africa. Still, never having been in Egypt, it’s good to get a taste for the long history of northern Sudan.
We stop by our host’s house for mango juice and a sweet pudding dessert – which is always a pleasure. Being in someone’s home and meeting their family can be so informative about the culture of another country. As has been the case everywhere we’ve been in Khartoum, we’re greeted warmly and with great hospitality.
Both Bob and I have packing to do to prepare for our flights. I’m headed back to Nairobi (which continues to have challenges of its own) and Bob is headed back to Chicago.
At the airport, Customs proves to be quite similar to that of the USA or elsewhere. Bureaucracies are not fun for the average person – and it doesn’t seem to matter whether I’m standing in line for a driver’s license back home or trying to get the bond money returned that we put on my cameras a week earlier. After several back and forth visits, everything is fine and the funds are returned. What seems most apparent in the exchange is simply how challenging it is for everyone to communicate and understand each other. That’s not only true with Customs in Sudan, it’s true everywhere I travel (let’s face it, Americans are not exactly leading the world in learning second languages). If I’m left with any impression from the camera/bond exchange, it’s simply that the officers were charged with a task and they were trying to do it correctly. And in the end, it seemed to work to everyone’s satisfaction.
My flight on Kenya Airways originated in Cairo. As I board the plane, it’s 3:00 a.m. and the holdover passengers are trying their best to sleep through our interruption. Since tourism in Kenya has come to a standstill following the election riots, most of the passengers on my flight are using the Nairobi airport simply for transit to other parts of the continent. It’s 2.5 hour flight and we arrive in Nairobi as the sun is coming up over a cover of giant cumulous clouds. Though it lasts only seconds, our descent through the clouds is spectacular – as if we’re slowly sinking into a vat of pale pink and yellow.
On arrival, only about 10 people from the full flight have Nairobi as their final destination. With a couple of exceptions (including me), those who disembark here are returning home. Unlike my earlier arrival here on December 31st, the baggage terminal is almost void of activity. Bureaucracy takes hold again when the Kenyan customs officials decide that they can’t put a visa stamp in my passport because I’ve run out of pages. They’re right, I have. I convince them I’ll get it re-filled when I get home and ask them to kindly place their stamp on the back page. They do it, but they’re not happy about it. Of course, I’ll now have to deal with officials in the USA, but they’re already unhappy with my passport simply because of previous visas pasted inside for earlier humanitarian trips to Afghanistan and Pakistan. Seeing a Sudan visa as well will open up a host of new questions. Ultimately, though, I’ve had generally good experiences with US officials once they realize the purpose of the trips abroad.
With all that’s going on in Darfur, it’s also clear that my Kenya trip is now oddly intermingled with the challenges facing Darfur. For a nation that thrives on tourism, a nearly empty airport can’t be good for Kenya.
The hotel driver fills me in on what’s happened in Nairobi since my departure on January 2nd. It’s been relatively quiet, he says, but the opposition is getting ready for a big week of protesting ahead. It will take a while for my head to shift back here – but I can see that traffic in Nairobi has returned to normal. And it’s good to see green again – especially since I’m not much of a desert guy. It’s been raining in Nairobi off and on and the trees are flowering. It’s even possible to smell the blossoms amid the diesel fumes – which seems somehow hopeful.
As I close this journey to Darfur and back, I realize it’s too early for me to have any significant insights about how to help there beyond the basic, simple notion of providing financial support to Relief International (RI.org) or similar groups working in the region. It’s not a place one can simply fly into as a volunteer and it’s certainly not tourist-friendly. In fact, it’s difficult to get to and from Darfur and I don’t see that getting easier any time soon. R.I. is there and they’re doing great work. They can use your help.
Many in the world are challenged with conflict, war, hunger and disease. Population pressure, climate change and environmental degradation contribute to suffering everywhere. At the same time, most people I encounter wherever I go are warm, welcoming and charitable. This was true for me in Afghanistan and Pakistan, and it was true in Sudan as well. So often, those who have nothing to give still find a way to welcome the visitor with their warmth and their smiles. And just as many in Darfur were suffering, most of those providing help and assistance were Sudanese. There are long term, sustainable solutions and it will take time. But it should be noted that the commitment to help create a better life for many of those who have been displaced by conflict is not simply a western notion. As I write this, Dr. Wali, Dr. Mohammed and their colleagues are still in Darfur, still working, and still doing it with grace and a positive spirit. If there is hope, that is where I find it.
###
A bit of an epilogue filed on 1/17/08. When I booked my trip to Darfur, I had no way of knowing what would be happening in Kenya. All I knew was that I’d be flying in a day after the presidential election. I arrived to significant unrest and rioting, especially in the Rift Valley area around Eldoret and Kisumu, Kenya’s third largest city As many as 300 people had been killed in the days before I headed to Sudan. It should be noted that since my return from Sudan, the opposition forces led by Raila Odinga continue their protests over what many consider a flawed election and the country remains very unsettled. At the time of this writing, tourism has dropped dramatically and as a result, more than 20,000 workers have lost their jobs. The death toll is climbing again and fast approaching 700. With the support of my friends at Nairobi-based Camerapix, I’ve been fortunate to spend time in the field both watching and documenting various events unfold around Nairobi. Though I do not intend to blog about what’s unfolding here, I do urge readers to follow the situation on their own. Kenya is a jewel in Africa and it deserves your attention. What I can say is that even in the midst of the rioting and turbulence, Kenya remains a great country with a great future.
###
Thank you for following along on The Road To Darfur. If you’d like more information on the humanitarian work performed by Relief International throughout Sudan or elsewhere, please visit RI.org. Your help will make a difference to the people of Darfur and elsewhere!
Thursday, January 17, 2008
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
Darfur - Day 8
Please note that any opinions expressed in this blog are those of Chip Duncan and do not represent any other organizations or individuals. Darfur is a place of constant change and any statistical references are approximate and may change rapidly. If you are reading this after January, 2008, please verify any information with up-to-date and verifiable resources.
Day 8 – January 8th, 2008 – After an 8:00 a.m. breakfast that includes a sweet rice dish with cinnamon, we’re off to the R.I. office, then a final visit to the Zam Zam clinic and camp.
As we pass through the center of El Fasher, the market is just setting up for the day. With smaller crowds of shoppers in the early morning, it’s easier to see the vendors and what they’re selling. There’s a wide assortment of vegetables and fruits – onions, tomatoes, potatoes, apples and oranges as well as spices and wheelbarrows full of long shafts of sugar cane. I’ve read that Sudan has the potential to feed all of Africa given its water and climate. Clearly, however, it’s not likely to happen during a time of crisis as resources are diverted elsewhere.
As we drive through town, we pass a total of seven troop carriers in two different locations. It seems normal here to see them juxtaposed amid the 4x4s of the U.N. and NGO community, the tiny two door taxis that fly around the streets packed full with locals, and the assortment of pedestrians and people on camelback, horseback or pulling a reluctant donkey burdened by more weight than it should carry.
At Zam Zam, we take an hour to do some additional filming of things we missed on our earlier visit – mostly sequences at the small pharmacy and a few extra scenes in the small building that houses maternal care. Though we were expected two days earlier, this is more of a surprise visit. Still, the R.I. staff is organized, cheerful and professional and the facilities are operating much as they had before.
What does sink in by coming back for a second day is that the challenges facing the people of Darfur are not going away. What happens in Zam Zam today happens in Zam Zam every day. Relief International and other NGOs in the area are doing what they can to help – but help is needed well beyond the current resources. Our mission is not to become overwhelmed by the political issues facing Darfur; rather, we’re here to focus on the human, daily needs.
Sadly, our world is faced with scores of man-made and natural disasters that require our resources and our attention. Darfur is just one of many current conflicts and crisis that include the challenges facing Pakistan, Afghanistan, Iraq, Palestine, Congo, South Sudan, Sri Lanka, Kenya and others. And the world is still reeling from the ravages of the tsunami, the Pakistan earthquake and Hurricane Katrina. But clearly, regardless of the political issues involved in the Darfur crisis, real people are in need of daily, humanitarian care.
By visiting the camp a second time, it’s easier to grasp that the crisis has created challenges that have now become a way of life for millions of people. There were lines here for help at the clinic two days ago, there are lines here for help today. Though our cameras will be gone, there will be lines here tomorrow.
So yes, while the world continues to work on political, diplomatic and military solutions to what’s happening in Darfur, we all need to do what we can to facilitate meeting what are truly basic needs – food, water, shelter, clothing and basic health care. And that’s just scratching the surface. Most of the displaced people in Darfur are not likely to go anywhere soon, and returning to their homes may never happen. That means children are not being educated and thousands will grow up without the basic resources for managing a quality of life most of the world now enjoys – that is, basic skills in reading, writing, math, science, personal health and hygiene, and basic family planning.
In Somalia there is now a second generation of people living in camps for displaced people. That means an entire generation of people who know nothing but the camp. To avoid that in Darfur will take a significant commitment that I believe begins with support for those organizations that are currently doing what they can to mitigate the challenges these people face every day. We’ve had the privilege of seeing the work being facilitated by Relief International. It’s work that needs to continue and expand.
After an hour in the R.I. clinic, we’re allowed to make a visit to the camp again – but this time it’s a more intimate visit. We don’t just drive through, we’re allowed to spend some time at a few people’s homes and to see exactly how they’re living. Suffice it to say that the only class distinction in Zam Zam is based on the length of time in the camp. Those who have been here longer have simply had more time to create a livable structure. That’s the difference between hand-made mud brick walls vs. thickets, stick poles and grass with a plastic tarp for a roof. That’s the difference between sleeping on a beat up old mattress or a thatched rug on top of dirt.
Population pressure is a common phenomenon around the world, and large cities such as Mumbai, Lima, Addis Ababa or Mexico City have first hand experience with how limited resources can impact people living in poverty. But Zam Zam and similar camps throughout Darfur lack even the most fundamental of resources and infrastructure – electricity, water, sewer, garbage collection. Even while standing in the midst of it, the notion that forty thousand people live here today and 600 more are arriving each week is mind-boggling.
As we drive back to El Fasher for our flight to Khartoum, I can’t say it’s completely hopeless in Darfur. R.I. and other NGOs are here. Sudanese doctors, nurses, midwives and nutritional and agricultural specialists are here. International staffers are here to train and provide assistance wherever possible. And many share similar goals about sustainability and educating women and girls – great notions of course. But of all the places I’ve visited during the past 25 years of working internationally, Darfur presents the greatest challenges. It’s too early for me to have processed the experience and beyond the obvious – that is, contributing financially to R.I. or similar groups that are committed to being here – it will take some time to come up with answers.
Our flight back to Khartoum is, once again, on a U.N. charter that has us back in town by late afternoon. It’s the same Fokker 50 we flew in on and once again, it’s about two thirds full.
After a ten minute drive from the airport, Bob and I are back in the guesthouse where we have beds with mattresses in two separate rooms, a working bathroom with a flushing toilet, air conditioning, a kitchen with a refrigerator and gas stove, satellite television, internet access, and, believe it or not, there’s a pizza delivery place nearby (although it is a rarity here). How quickly life changes for us. It seems so normal to pick up the phone and order a pizza – even in Khartoum. A cold beer would be nice, I think, but I quickly remember that Sudan practices sharia – there will be no beer tonight.
###
Thanks for following along on The Road To Darfur. Please visit again tomorrow for Day 9. If you’d like more information on the humanitarian work performed by Relief International throughout Sudan or elsewhere, please visit RI.org. Your help will make a difference to the people of Darfur and elsewhere!
Day 8 – January 8th, 2008 – After an 8:00 a.m. breakfast that includes a sweet rice dish with cinnamon, we’re off to the R.I. office, then a final visit to the Zam Zam clinic and camp.
As we pass through the center of El Fasher, the market is just setting up for the day. With smaller crowds of shoppers in the early morning, it’s easier to see the vendors and what they’re selling. There’s a wide assortment of vegetables and fruits – onions, tomatoes, potatoes, apples and oranges as well as spices and wheelbarrows full of long shafts of sugar cane. I’ve read that Sudan has the potential to feed all of Africa given its water and climate. Clearly, however, it’s not likely to happen during a time of crisis as resources are diverted elsewhere.
As we drive through town, we pass a total of seven troop carriers in two different locations. It seems normal here to see them juxtaposed amid the 4x4s of the U.N. and NGO community, the tiny two door taxis that fly around the streets packed full with locals, and the assortment of pedestrians and people on camelback, horseback or pulling a reluctant donkey burdened by more weight than it should carry.
At Zam Zam, we take an hour to do some additional filming of things we missed on our earlier visit – mostly sequences at the small pharmacy and a few extra scenes in the small building that houses maternal care. Though we were expected two days earlier, this is more of a surprise visit. Still, the R.I. staff is organized, cheerful and professional and the facilities are operating much as they had before.
What does sink in by coming back for a second day is that the challenges facing the people of Darfur are not going away. What happens in Zam Zam today happens in Zam Zam every day. Relief International and other NGOs in the area are doing what they can to help – but help is needed well beyond the current resources. Our mission is not to become overwhelmed by the political issues facing Darfur; rather, we’re here to focus on the human, daily needs.
Sadly, our world is faced with scores of man-made and natural disasters that require our resources and our attention. Darfur is just one of many current conflicts and crisis that include the challenges facing Pakistan, Afghanistan, Iraq, Palestine, Congo, South Sudan, Sri Lanka, Kenya and others. And the world is still reeling from the ravages of the tsunami, the Pakistan earthquake and Hurricane Katrina. But clearly, regardless of the political issues involved in the Darfur crisis, real people are in need of daily, humanitarian care.
By visiting the camp a second time, it’s easier to grasp that the crisis has created challenges that have now become a way of life for millions of people. There were lines here for help at the clinic two days ago, there are lines here for help today. Though our cameras will be gone, there will be lines here tomorrow.
So yes, while the world continues to work on political, diplomatic and military solutions to what’s happening in Darfur, we all need to do what we can to facilitate meeting what are truly basic needs – food, water, shelter, clothing and basic health care. And that’s just scratching the surface. Most of the displaced people in Darfur are not likely to go anywhere soon, and returning to their homes may never happen. That means children are not being educated and thousands will grow up without the basic resources for managing a quality of life most of the world now enjoys – that is, basic skills in reading, writing, math, science, personal health and hygiene, and basic family planning.
In Somalia there is now a second generation of people living in camps for displaced people. That means an entire generation of people who know nothing but the camp. To avoid that in Darfur will take a significant commitment that I believe begins with support for those organizations that are currently doing what they can to mitigate the challenges these people face every day. We’ve had the privilege of seeing the work being facilitated by Relief International. It’s work that needs to continue and expand.
After an hour in the R.I. clinic, we’re allowed to make a visit to the camp again – but this time it’s a more intimate visit. We don’t just drive through, we’re allowed to spend some time at a few people’s homes and to see exactly how they’re living. Suffice it to say that the only class distinction in Zam Zam is based on the length of time in the camp. Those who have been here longer have simply had more time to create a livable structure. That’s the difference between hand-made mud brick walls vs. thickets, stick poles and grass with a plastic tarp for a roof. That’s the difference between sleeping on a beat up old mattress or a thatched rug on top of dirt.
Population pressure is a common phenomenon around the world, and large cities such as Mumbai, Lima, Addis Ababa or Mexico City have first hand experience with how limited resources can impact people living in poverty. But Zam Zam and similar camps throughout Darfur lack even the most fundamental of resources and infrastructure – electricity, water, sewer, garbage collection. Even while standing in the midst of it, the notion that forty thousand people live here today and 600 more are arriving each week is mind-boggling.
As we drive back to El Fasher for our flight to Khartoum, I can’t say it’s completely hopeless in Darfur. R.I. and other NGOs are here. Sudanese doctors, nurses, midwives and nutritional and agricultural specialists are here. International staffers are here to train and provide assistance wherever possible. And many share similar goals about sustainability and educating women and girls – great notions of course. But of all the places I’ve visited during the past 25 years of working internationally, Darfur presents the greatest challenges. It’s too early for me to have processed the experience and beyond the obvious – that is, contributing financially to R.I. or similar groups that are committed to being here – it will take some time to come up with answers.
Our flight back to Khartoum is, once again, on a U.N. charter that has us back in town by late afternoon. It’s the same Fokker 50 we flew in on and once again, it’s about two thirds full.
After a ten minute drive from the airport, Bob and I are back in the guesthouse where we have beds with mattresses in two separate rooms, a working bathroom with a flushing toilet, air conditioning, a kitchen with a refrigerator and gas stove, satellite television, internet access, and, believe it or not, there’s a pizza delivery place nearby (although it is a rarity here). How quickly life changes for us. It seems so normal to pick up the phone and order a pizza – even in Khartoum. A cold beer would be nice, I think, but I quickly remember that Sudan practices sharia – there will be no beer tonight.
###
Thanks for following along on The Road To Darfur. Please visit again tomorrow for Day 9. If you’d like more information on the humanitarian work performed by Relief International throughout Sudan or elsewhere, please visit RI.org. Your help will make a difference to the people of Darfur and elsewhere!
Darfur - Day 7
Please note that any opinions expressed in this blog are those of Chip Duncan and do not represent any other organizations or individuals. Darfur is a place of constant change and any statistical references are approximate and may change rapidly. If you are reading this after January, 2008, please verify any information with up-to-date and verifiable resources.
Day 7 – January 7th, 2008 - Sleep came easy, but the early morning call to prayer is followed by a series of gunshots. Since we’re in the guesthouse, it’s hard to say whether they’re intended for people or simply celebratory shots fired into the air. We hope for the best.
After another simple breakfast, we leave for the airport at El Fasher to catch a U.N. helicopter flight to the city of Kabkabiya. The two pilots and the flight engineer are all Russian as is the very old helicopter. I’ve flown on a lot of helicopters around the world but this is the first one that has a roll of duct tape and bailing wire within reach of the cockpit.
The chopper seats 12 with a large cargo area behind the last seat. Our flight includes our team of 3 plus 2 men from the World Food Program. It’s a 45 minute flight west. The landscape begins as more of the same – flat, brown, denuded of trees; however, within about twenty minutes of flying we’re passing a series of monoliths and small mountain ranges that seem to carve the countryside in half, north to south. We’re also flying more or less along the same line as a dirt road below – one that could just as easily pass as a dry river bed. It is, clearly, a road; however, I never see a vehicle of any kind between El Fasher and Kabkabiya.
Once we pass the peaks, I begin to see more villages at various bends in what appear to be dry creeks and small river beds. The villages range in size from 2-3 residential buildings surrounded by low stone fencing to similar enclaves with as many as 30-40 buildings. However, none of the villages we fly over appear inhabited.
When we arrive at Kabkabiya the airport is little more than a dirt strip. It’s about 9:30 in the morning and before the pilot takes off, they tell us they’ll be back to pick us up around 1:00. The R.I. team is there to pick us up in a beat up 4x4. I’m in the passenger seat and find out quickly that the only way to get out is to roll down my window, reach out and open the door from the outside. On the bright side, it’s not a vehicle anyone would be rushing out to steal – and that’s part of the point, really.
The wind is howling and fairly constant and there are no paved roads here. That means that not only are we eating the blowing sand (yes, our eyes take a beating), so is our equipment. Kabkabiya is much less formally organized than El Fasher. It’s sprawling and the single story, brown brick buildings are spread out over more than a mile. The west side of the city is bordered by a very wide, dry riverbed. The streets are filled with all kinds of people from what appear to be very different cultural and ethnic backgrounds. As we saw in El Fasher, there are people on horseback, camelback and donkey back. There are also far fewer vehicles here than in El Fasher – which makes sense considering that driving a car this far west into Sudan would be a very long and challenging drive.
Our first stop is the R.I. offices and, as we saw in El Fasher, the team is vibrant, organized and doing great work under very challenging circumstances. To the best of my knowledge, the entire team is comprised of Sudanese nationals. We head out right away to document work being done at a veterinary clinic on the west side of town. Most of what R.I. is providing in Kabkabiya is part of a sustainable livelihood program. Their work includes veterinary services, well building and maintenance, agriculture education and a highly successful program in the building and instruction behind the use of a very fuel-efficient brick stove.
The veterinary services are housed in a small building at a crossroads. Roughly 8-10 field staff have corralled both cows and goats for immunizations. I’d estimate about 40 head of cattle and roughly 50-60 goats. Since so many people survive off their livestock here, having a healthy herd is essentially to their livelihoods.
Stop number two is at a program on the east side of the city where people are building a well. As is the case in El Fasher, there’s plenty of water here – it’s a matter of getting to it. The well project is a significant one and 7-8 volunteers have finished digging and are now pouring concrete for the circular well. It’s hard work but the volunteers know the importance of it.
I ask to see a completed well and within about five minutes, we’re back on the west side of the city and across the dry river bed (we didn’t see any bridges so I’m guessing it’s a very difficult to non-existent crossing during the rainy season). We visit two completed wells where water’s being used for irrigation of several acres of prime vegetables – including tomatoes and several varieties of onions.
Our next stop is about a mile further west where farmers and workers have gathered for instruction on sustainable farming practices. About twenty men and women are sitting under one of the few remaining tall trees (everyone seeks out the shade when they can find it) and listening to an R.I. field staffer explain things like how to maximize yields, rotate crops, and proper times for planting and harvesting.
The final stop in our brief trip to Kabkabiya is back on the east side of town where R.I. has a small compound where highly efficient wood stoves are being manufactured from bricks (yes, the bricks are also manufactured locally). The program is temporarily at a standstill, but only because the manager of the program is away for the day. Still, from what we can gather, building and distributing these efficient brick stoves has dramatically cut down on the need for women to venture far beyond the city limits in search of firewood. They’re easy to use and the R.I. team is quickly educating local women in how to use them effectively for cooking.
Though we’re supposed to be back at the runway by 1:00, we’re running late. This isn’t good since the U.N. flight teams must maintain a tight schedule throughout the region. We make a mad dash and are driving up the runway as the helicopter propellers are warming up. The flight engineer has on his headset and waves us, running, into the chopper. It turns out it’s just the three of us for the flight back to El Fasher. We land at roughly 2:30 and return to the guesthouse for our final night in Darfur.
I’m now feeling more than initiated into life in the guesthouse – bring a good book or you’re sunk with boredom at night. Fortunately, I’m in the middle of the latest novel by Jim Harrison so time isn’t at a complete standstill. Everything’s fine until the power goes out at 7:30. But in my case, I flip on my headlamp and continue well into the peaceful night.
###
Thanks for following along on The Road To Darfur. Please visit again tomorrow for Day 8. If you’d like more information on the humanitarian work performed by Relief International throughout Sudan or elsewhere, please visit RI.org. Your help will make a difference to the people of Kabakbiya and elsewhere!
Day 7 – January 7th, 2008 - Sleep came easy, but the early morning call to prayer is followed by a series of gunshots. Since we’re in the guesthouse, it’s hard to say whether they’re intended for people or simply celebratory shots fired into the air. We hope for the best.
After another simple breakfast, we leave for the airport at El Fasher to catch a U.N. helicopter flight to the city of Kabkabiya. The two pilots and the flight engineer are all Russian as is the very old helicopter. I’ve flown on a lot of helicopters around the world but this is the first one that has a roll of duct tape and bailing wire within reach of the cockpit.
The chopper seats 12 with a large cargo area behind the last seat. Our flight includes our team of 3 plus 2 men from the World Food Program. It’s a 45 minute flight west. The landscape begins as more of the same – flat, brown, denuded of trees; however, within about twenty minutes of flying we’re passing a series of monoliths and small mountain ranges that seem to carve the countryside in half, north to south. We’re also flying more or less along the same line as a dirt road below – one that could just as easily pass as a dry river bed. It is, clearly, a road; however, I never see a vehicle of any kind between El Fasher and Kabkabiya.
Once we pass the peaks, I begin to see more villages at various bends in what appear to be dry creeks and small river beds. The villages range in size from 2-3 residential buildings surrounded by low stone fencing to similar enclaves with as many as 30-40 buildings. However, none of the villages we fly over appear inhabited.
When we arrive at Kabkabiya the airport is little more than a dirt strip. It’s about 9:30 in the morning and before the pilot takes off, they tell us they’ll be back to pick us up around 1:00. The R.I. team is there to pick us up in a beat up 4x4. I’m in the passenger seat and find out quickly that the only way to get out is to roll down my window, reach out and open the door from the outside. On the bright side, it’s not a vehicle anyone would be rushing out to steal – and that’s part of the point, really.
The wind is howling and fairly constant and there are no paved roads here. That means that not only are we eating the blowing sand (yes, our eyes take a beating), so is our equipment. Kabkabiya is much less formally organized than El Fasher. It’s sprawling and the single story, brown brick buildings are spread out over more than a mile. The west side of the city is bordered by a very wide, dry riverbed. The streets are filled with all kinds of people from what appear to be very different cultural and ethnic backgrounds. As we saw in El Fasher, there are people on horseback, camelback and donkey back. There are also far fewer vehicles here than in El Fasher – which makes sense considering that driving a car this far west into Sudan would be a very long and challenging drive.
Our first stop is the R.I. offices and, as we saw in El Fasher, the team is vibrant, organized and doing great work under very challenging circumstances. To the best of my knowledge, the entire team is comprised of Sudanese nationals. We head out right away to document work being done at a veterinary clinic on the west side of town. Most of what R.I. is providing in Kabkabiya is part of a sustainable livelihood program. Their work includes veterinary services, well building and maintenance, agriculture education and a highly successful program in the building and instruction behind the use of a very fuel-efficient brick stove.
The veterinary services are housed in a small building at a crossroads. Roughly 8-10 field staff have corralled both cows and goats for immunizations. I’d estimate about 40 head of cattle and roughly 50-60 goats. Since so many people survive off their livestock here, having a healthy herd is essentially to their livelihoods.
Stop number two is at a program on the east side of the city where people are building a well. As is the case in El Fasher, there’s plenty of water here – it’s a matter of getting to it. The well project is a significant one and 7-8 volunteers have finished digging and are now pouring concrete for the circular well. It’s hard work but the volunteers know the importance of it.
I ask to see a completed well and within about five minutes, we’re back on the west side of the city and across the dry river bed (we didn’t see any bridges so I’m guessing it’s a very difficult to non-existent crossing during the rainy season). We visit two completed wells where water’s being used for irrigation of several acres of prime vegetables – including tomatoes and several varieties of onions.
Our next stop is about a mile further west where farmers and workers have gathered for instruction on sustainable farming practices. About twenty men and women are sitting under one of the few remaining tall trees (everyone seeks out the shade when they can find it) and listening to an R.I. field staffer explain things like how to maximize yields, rotate crops, and proper times for planting and harvesting.
The final stop in our brief trip to Kabkabiya is back on the east side of town where R.I. has a small compound where highly efficient wood stoves are being manufactured from bricks (yes, the bricks are also manufactured locally). The program is temporarily at a standstill, but only because the manager of the program is away for the day. Still, from what we can gather, building and distributing these efficient brick stoves has dramatically cut down on the need for women to venture far beyond the city limits in search of firewood. They’re easy to use and the R.I. team is quickly educating local women in how to use them effectively for cooking.
Though we’re supposed to be back at the runway by 1:00, we’re running late. This isn’t good since the U.N. flight teams must maintain a tight schedule throughout the region. We make a mad dash and are driving up the runway as the helicopter propellers are warming up. The flight engineer has on his headset and waves us, running, into the chopper. It turns out it’s just the three of us for the flight back to El Fasher. We land at roughly 2:30 and return to the guesthouse for our final night in Darfur.
I’m now feeling more than initiated into life in the guesthouse – bring a good book or you’re sunk with boredom at night. Fortunately, I’m in the middle of the latest novel by Jim Harrison so time isn’t at a complete standstill. Everything’s fine until the power goes out at 7:30. But in my case, I flip on my headlamp and continue well into the peaceful night.
###
Thanks for following along on The Road To Darfur. Please visit again tomorrow for Day 8. If you’d like more information on the humanitarian work performed by Relief International throughout Sudan or elsewhere, please visit RI.org. Your help will make a difference to the people of Kabakbiya and elsewhere!
Sunday, January 13, 2008
Darfur - Day 6
Please note that any opinions expressed in this blog are those of Chip Duncan and do not represent any other organizations or individuals. Darfur is a place of constant change and any statistical references are approximate and may change rapidly. If you are reading this after January, 2008, please verify any information with up-to-date and verifiable resources.
Day 6 – Jan. 6, 2008 – I awake early, 6:00 a.m. (ok, well it’s early for me). It’s part jet lag, of course. Our internal clocks have gone haywire and Bob has been up since 4:00. It’s also due in part to the 4:00 a.m. “call to prayer” which is, admittedly, hard to sleep through. It’s worth noting that all the beds are covered by mosquito netting even though malaria is not as prevalent during the dry season. In fact, the only critters we’re made aware of that frequent the area are scorpions.
Breakfast is simple – eggs and bread. I’m not a tea drinker and the instant Nescafe coffee has gone from a terrible necessity to an acceptable one in just a few days in Sudan. I can’t say I’m thrilled to be getting used to it. There is tap water here and at the RI compound, the water for the sinks and showers is chlorinated but still not potable. We have to boil all water for drinking in hot drinks or for cooking to avoid illness. As it is, visitors are more susceptible to various bacteria their bodies are unfamiliar with – and Bob and I are doing our best not just to wash our hands regularly, but also to use a Purel-type disinfectant before eating. Generally, I follow the old Peace Corps motto – if you can’t boil it or peel it, don’t eat it. So bread and hard boiled eggs it is – and yes, the jar of peanut butter we brought along comes in handy.
At 6:45 the hand held radio report comes through and there’s been another shooting in the market. It’s the second in two days. We would take extra precaution except, frankly, it’s not unusual so there’s nothing extra to do. At some point, whether you’re a resident, a humanitarian worker or a displaced person, you have no choice but to simply go about your life.
Today’s a big day – our first visit to one of the several camps for people who are often referred to as IDPs – that is, Internally Displaced People. In other words, people who have been forced to leave their homes and livelihoods and have been relocated to camps. Relief International runs a medical clinic in Zam Zam that’s about 9 kilometers south of El Fasher.
Zam Zam is named after a holy well located in the Masjid al Haram in Mecca, Saudi Arabia. However, there is no well at the Zam Zam Camp.
After a stop at the office, we drive south to Zam Zam in a beat up minivan. The countryside is bleak and flat with a few huge old trees here and there – obviously left behind in the clear cut. The road is paved in most places but is generally washed out in low spots or near the small bridges. Flooding through the area is common during the rainy season. During just 9 kilometers, we pass through two security checkpoints. The sides of the road are also used for transit by many local people riding an assortment of horse drawn carts, donkeys and camels.
As we approach the R.I. clinic, we see that it’s surrounded by the camp itself. There are approximately 40,000 people living in Zam Zam Camp – mostly in makeshift brick or grass huts. Some have been here as long as 4 years, others arrived yesterday. As many as 600 people are arriving each week and Relief International is running the only clinic in the camp.
The clinic itself is a group of about 8 buildings on roughly 1.5 acres of land. It’s been spruced up to be as attractive as possible, and it’s definitely clean, friendly and inviting. R.I. services include nutrition programs, basic health care for injuries, disease, illness and check ups, immunizations, and maternal care. They also run a pharmacy and an area where children’s health can be monitored for height and weight. During our brief visit, several toddlers and babies are being immunized and as many as 40-50 women are receiving both nutrition packs and medicines from the pharmacy.
There are many common ailments here that affect people of all ages – the most common include issues related to pregnancy, malnutrition, malaria and long term cases of diarrhea or dysentery. HIV is a significant and growing concern here as well. Children here are at significant risk as they are throughout many parts of the developing world and both the maternal and infant death rates are high.
All services are free, of course, and the R.I. team in Zam Zam includes as many as 25 doctors, nurses and midwives as well as assistants for everything from registration to record keeping. The clinic is currently serving as many as 3-400 patients each day. They operate six days a week; however, for security reasons, the clinic can not operate at night.
While we’re visiting, we see scores of women and children receiving much needed food and medicines as well as education in ways to improve the health, hygiene and welfare of their families. Maternal care is in many ways the most significant part of the clinic. It’s here that women can gain assistance throughout their pregnancies and, when it’s time, deliver their babies safely. While I’m photographing the main room, one young pregnant woman shows signs of dehydration and stress and faints into the arms of Dr. Wali. The team is quick to administer assistance and within moments she’s cared for by doctors and midwife assistants who administer IV fluids. Before we leave, we’re told by Dr. Mohammed, the resident physician, that the woman will be fine once her dehydration is mitigated.
It’s worth noting that sustainability is a significant goal of the R.I. team. In other words, the thinking is both short term and long term. The R.I. staff working daily in the Zam Zam clinic is Sudanese and their commitment to care and education is admirable. There is also a positive spirit that I find pervades the team. While smiles can be hard to find in Darfur, the camp is a safe, clean and progressive environment with pure motives – regardless of what’s facilitating the crisis here, the R.I. team, like so many in the NGO community, is simply here to help.
After our visit to the clinic, we’re allowed to make a drive through the camp itself. Whatever roads or infrastructure exists in the camps, it’s developed organically and over time. In other words, the roads are crooked, the housing random, and there’s no specific planning for the sort of things one finds in a normal village or city – that is, no fire hydrants or infrastructure related to electricity, water resources or trash collection. It simply doesn’t exist here.
Of course, we quickly see the desperate conditions people are living in. Those who have been here longest have found ways to build single room homes out of handmade brick and whatever materials they can find. Others, mostly newcomers, are living under whatever shelter they can find or manufacture – stick poles, grass, cardboard and plastic are the norm. The people here have few possessions, and what they do have they’ve carried with them for long distances.
As we had in El Fasher, we do find commerce going on in the camps, though it’s far from thriving. There is a market of sorts and there are men using sewing machines (powered with their feet on pedals) and doing basic repairs on everything from bicycles to hand carts.
What is most striking to me in the camp is the spirit of the children. As I’ve seen in various slums around the world, the kids have a way of rising above their condition. Within seconds of getting out of our vehicle, we’re surrounded by kids from 2 to about 12 who simply want to follow the excitement of our visit. We take some pictures and make a point of shaking hands with everyone who comes to see us. When I’m taking pictures of kids, I often make a game out of it and try to take the time to show them their own images – whether on a video screen or the back of a digital camera. In some places, I carry a Polaroid camera and try to leave pictures behind. In this case, there isn’t room for more equipment so I’m hopeful that I can create some prints and try to get them back to the camp via R.I. staff.
Our time in the camp is restricted by the various curfews we face and by 1:30 we’re forced to leave. As we’re riding back, Bob and I discuss the R.I. team and, in particular, their commitment to serving people who have, literally, no one else in their corner. If there’s a more difficult job on earth, we do not know what it is.
Back at the guesthouse, I do whatever work I can to log and take notes on our day. Within an hour or two, I’m feeling claustrophobic. Among the challenges for the humanitarian workers here that I find hard to comprehend is the significant amount of time spent in the small compound – mostly indoors. I try to get a sense of what people do to occupy themselves when their social life is so limited. Yes, there is a dialup service for internet (slow), satellite television (more than 200 channels, most in non-English languages), and books. We discover that the R.I. team enjoys cooking and both Bob and I do our best to get involved. Even with that, it’s not long after dark that I climb back under the mosquito net for another nights sleep.
###
Thanks for following along on The Road To Darfur. Please visit again tomorrow for Day 7. If you’d like more information on the humanitarian work performed by Relief International throughout Sudan or elsewhere, please visit RI.org. Your help will make a difference to the people of Zam Zam Camp and elsewhere!
Day 6 – Jan. 6, 2008 – I awake early, 6:00 a.m. (ok, well it’s early for me). It’s part jet lag, of course. Our internal clocks have gone haywire and Bob has been up since 4:00. It’s also due in part to the 4:00 a.m. “call to prayer” which is, admittedly, hard to sleep through. It’s worth noting that all the beds are covered by mosquito netting even though malaria is not as prevalent during the dry season. In fact, the only critters we’re made aware of that frequent the area are scorpions.
Breakfast is simple – eggs and bread. I’m not a tea drinker and the instant Nescafe coffee has gone from a terrible necessity to an acceptable one in just a few days in Sudan. I can’t say I’m thrilled to be getting used to it. There is tap water here and at the RI compound, the water for the sinks and showers is chlorinated but still not potable. We have to boil all water for drinking in hot drinks or for cooking to avoid illness. As it is, visitors are more susceptible to various bacteria their bodies are unfamiliar with – and Bob and I are doing our best not just to wash our hands regularly, but also to use a Purel-type disinfectant before eating. Generally, I follow the old Peace Corps motto – if you can’t boil it or peel it, don’t eat it. So bread and hard boiled eggs it is – and yes, the jar of peanut butter we brought along comes in handy.
At 6:45 the hand held radio report comes through and there’s been another shooting in the market. It’s the second in two days. We would take extra precaution except, frankly, it’s not unusual so there’s nothing extra to do. At some point, whether you’re a resident, a humanitarian worker or a displaced person, you have no choice but to simply go about your life.
Today’s a big day – our first visit to one of the several camps for people who are often referred to as IDPs – that is, Internally Displaced People. In other words, people who have been forced to leave their homes and livelihoods and have been relocated to camps. Relief International runs a medical clinic in Zam Zam that’s about 9 kilometers south of El Fasher.
Zam Zam is named after a holy well located in the Masjid al Haram in Mecca, Saudi Arabia. However, there is no well at the Zam Zam Camp.
After a stop at the office, we drive south to Zam Zam in a beat up minivan. The countryside is bleak and flat with a few huge old trees here and there – obviously left behind in the clear cut. The road is paved in most places but is generally washed out in low spots or near the small bridges. Flooding through the area is common during the rainy season. During just 9 kilometers, we pass through two security checkpoints. The sides of the road are also used for transit by many local people riding an assortment of horse drawn carts, donkeys and camels.
As we approach the R.I. clinic, we see that it’s surrounded by the camp itself. There are approximately 40,000 people living in Zam Zam Camp – mostly in makeshift brick or grass huts. Some have been here as long as 4 years, others arrived yesterday. As many as 600 people are arriving each week and Relief International is running the only clinic in the camp.
The clinic itself is a group of about 8 buildings on roughly 1.5 acres of land. It’s been spruced up to be as attractive as possible, and it’s definitely clean, friendly and inviting. R.I. services include nutrition programs, basic health care for injuries, disease, illness and check ups, immunizations, and maternal care. They also run a pharmacy and an area where children’s health can be monitored for height and weight. During our brief visit, several toddlers and babies are being immunized and as many as 40-50 women are receiving both nutrition packs and medicines from the pharmacy.
There are many common ailments here that affect people of all ages – the most common include issues related to pregnancy, malnutrition, malaria and long term cases of diarrhea or dysentery. HIV is a significant and growing concern here as well. Children here are at significant risk as they are throughout many parts of the developing world and both the maternal and infant death rates are high.
All services are free, of course, and the R.I. team in Zam Zam includes as many as 25 doctors, nurses and midwives as well as assistants for everything from registration to record keeping. The clinic is currently serving as many as 3-400 patients each day. They operate six days a week; however, for security reasons, the clinic can not operate at night.
While we’re visiting, we see scores of women and children receiving much needed food and medicines as well as education in ways to improve the health, hygiene and welfare of their families. Maternal care is in many ways the most significant part of the clinic. It’s here that women can gain assistance throughout their pregnancies and, when it’s time, deliver their babies safely. While I’m photographing the main room, one young pregnant woman shows signs of dehydration and stress and faints into the arms of Dr. Wali. The team is quick to administer assistance and within moments she’s cared for by doctors and midwife assistants who administer IV fluids. Before we leave, we’re told by Dr. Mohammed, the resident physician, that the woman will be fine once her dehydration is mitigated.
It’s worth noting that sustainability is a significant goal of the R.I. team. In other words, the thinking is both short term and long term. The R.I. staff working daily in the Zam Zam clinic is Sudanese and their commitment to care and education is admirable. There is also a positive spirit that I find pervades the team. While smiles can be hard to find in Darfur, the camp is a safe, clean and progressive environment with pure motives – regardless of what’s facilitating the crisis here, the R.I. team, like so many in the NGO community, is simply here to help.
After our visit to the clinic, we’re allowed to make a drive through the camp itself. Whatever roads or infrastructure exists in the camps, it’s developed organically and over time. In other words, the roads are crooked, the housing random, and there’s no specific planning for the sort of things one finds in a normal village or city – that is, no fire hydrants or infrastructure related to electricity, water resources or trash collection. It simply doesn’t exist here.
Of course, we quickly see the desperate conditions people are living in. Those who have been here longest have found ways to build single room homes out of handmade brick and whatever materials they can find. Others, mostly newcomers, are living under whatever shelter they can find or manufacture – stick poles, grass, cardboard and plastic are the norm. The people here have few possessions, and what they do have they’ve carried with them for long distances.
As we had in El Fasher, we do find commerce going on in the camps, though it’s far from thriving. There is a market of sorts and there are men using sewing machines (powered with their feet on pedals) and doing basic repairs on everything from bicycles to hand carts.
What is most striking to me in the camp is the spirit of the children. As I’ve seen in various slums around the world, the kids have a way of rising above their condition. Within seconds of getting out of our vehicle, we’re surrounded by kids from 2 to about 12 who simply want to follow the excitement of our visit. We take some pictures and make a point of shaking hands with everyone who comes to see us. When I’m taking pictures of kids, I often make a game out of it and try to take the time to show them their own images – whether on a video screen or the back of a digital camera. In some places, I carry a Polaroid camera and try to leave pictures behind. In this case, there isn’t room for more equipment so I’m hopeful that I can create some prints and try to get them back to the camp via R.I. staff.
Our time in the camp is restricted by the various curfews we face and by 1:30 we’re forced to leave. As we’re riding back, Bob and I discuss the R.I. team and, in particular, their commitment to serving people who have, literally, no one else in their corner. If there’s a more difficult job on earth, we do not know what it is.
Back at the guesthouse, I do whatever work I can to log and take notes on our day. Within an hour or two, I’m feeling claustrophobic. Among the challenges for the humanitarian workers here that I find hard to comprehend is the significant amount of time spent in the small compound – mostly indoors. I try to get a sense of what people do to occupy themselves when their social life is so limited. Yes, there is a dialup service for internet (slow), satellite television (more than 200 channels, most in non-English languages), and books. We discover that the R.I. team enjoys cooking and both Bob and I do our best to get involved. Even with that, it’s not long after dark that I climb back under the mosquito net for another nights sleep.
###
Thanks for following along on The Road To Darfur. Please visit again tomorrow for Day 7. If you’d like more information on the humanitarian work performed by Relief International throughout Sudan or elsewhere, please visit RI.org. Your help will make a difference to the people of Zam Zam Camp and elsewhere!
Darfur - Day 5
Please note that any opinions expressed in this blog are those of Chip Duncan and do not represent any other organizations or individuals. Darfur is a place of constant change and any statistical references are approximate and may change rapidly. If you are reading this after January, 2008, please verify any information with up-to-date and verifiable resources.
Day 5 – January 5th, 2008 – We wake early and are soon boarding the regular U.N. charter flight to the city of El Fasher. It takes us about two hours flying west from Khartoum on a very loud Fokker 50 aircraft to reach our destination. The flight is about two thirds full with humanitarian workers from the U.N., the World Food Program and various NGOs operating in the region. I’ve been told there are approximately 25 NGOs operating in the area from several countries around the world, all providing various services.
Everyone on the flight is limited to 15 kilos so no one is bringing along much more than a change of clothes and whatever they need for business.
The outskirts of Khartoum remind me of Lima, Peru – the further you move from the center of town, the poorer it gets. And further out means drier and less hospitable. For most of the two hour flight, there’s nothing remarkable to look at – just flat, brown desert. I’ve been told that the area was forested with significant wildlife and was a prime hunting area as recently as twenty years ago. The deforestation appears significant now, with all the challenges of the resulting climate change. But there are pockets of trees visible beginning just east of El Fasher. As we circle El Fasher, we can also see the lake in the city center. It’s roughly a mile long and ringed by a single band of trees. It is worth noting that Sudan in general has significant water resources. Though we’re in Darfur in the dry season, there appears to be an adequate supply of water.
The landing is uneventful though the airport is among the oldest I’ve ever seen – no doubt another relic from the British past. It is, however, serviceable.
After our arrival, there are several meetings we need to participate in, most of which involve letting government authorities know we’re in town and planning to document the work being done by Relief International. We’re told, as we anticipated, that any filming or photographs must be limited to documenting the work of Relief International.
The city itself is a crossroads with several roads leading in and out – most of which are paved within the city. We could see hundreds of small villages when flying in; however, it was impossible to tell from the air whether they were inhabited. What is clear is that El Fasher is booming and bustling with activity – at least during the day. In addition to hundreds of thousands of displaced people living in close proximity, the city is also full of people who’ve lived there for years, hundreds of NGO workers and thousands of soldiers from either the government or one of the various factions, international and local.
One thing I find fascinating but hadn’t thought about until my arrival is the economic impact that NGOs and the UN and AU forces are having on the city. Everyone needs goods and services so the economy is on a definite upswing. Thousands of NGO workers need bottled water, food, vehicle maintenance, and housing. There are jobs to be found today that didn’t exist a few years ago – drivers, cleaning staff, cooks, security, vendors, haulers – you name it. The market in central El Fasher is packed full of sellers and buyers of everything from auto parts to fruit, vegetables, meat and sugar cane. The tomatoes are spectacular and the local fare includes fried grasshoppers – which, unfortunately, I wasn’t able to try. Water is also a sold commodity and the sellers distribute it with large oil-type tanks welded together and loaded onto carts pulled by horseback. There’s a well on the edge of town that’s busy all day long with water vendors filling up their tanks.
Our first day in El Fasher includes some driving about town and stops at both the guest house and Relief International offices. There are more briefings for tomorrow’s visit to Zam Zam camp.
There’s a curfew that everyone lives by and in our case that means mid-to-late afternoon in the guest house. The roads in the area close at 7:00 p.m. and the city curfew to be off the street completely is 8:00 p.m. For most NGO workers, it’s another early night catching up on the latest novel or watching satellite t.v. In our case, we’re catching on the news from Kenya, where things are not looking much better since I departed.
###
Thanks for following along on The Road To Darfur. Please visit again tomorrow for Day 6. If you’d like more information on the humanitarian work performed by Relief International throughout Sudan or elsewhere, please visit RI.org. For more information on The Duncan Group, visit DuncanEntertainment.com.
Day 5 – January 5th, 2008 – We wake early and are soon boarding the regular U.N. charter flight to the city of El Fasher. It takes us about two hours flying west from Khartoum on a very loud Fokker 50 aircraft to reach our destination. The flight is about two thirds full with humanitarian workers from the U.N., the World Food Program and various NGOs operating in the region. I’ve been told there are approximately 25 NGOs operating in the area from several countries around the world, all providing various services.
Everyone on the flight is limited to 15 kilos so no one is bringing along much more than a change of clothes and whatever they need for business.
The outskirts of Khartoum remind me of Lima, Peru – the further you move from the center of town, the poorer it gets. And further out means drier and less hospitable. For most of the two hour flight, there’s nothing remarkable to look at – just flat, brown desert. I’ve been told that the area was forested with significant wildlife and was a prime hunting area as recently as twenty years ago. The deforestation appears significant now, with all the challenges of the resulting climate change. But there are pockets of trees visible beginning just east of El Fasher. As we circle El Fasher, we can also see the lake in the city center. It’s roughly a mile long and ringed by a single band of trees. It is worth noting that Sudan in general has significant water resources. Though we’re in Darfur in the dry season, there appears to be an adequate supply of water.
The landing is uneventful though the airport is among the oldest I’ve ever seen – no doubt another relic from the British past. It is, however, serviceable.
After our arrival, there are several meetings we need to participate in, most of which involve letting government authorities know we’re in town and planning to document the work being done by Relief International. We’re told, as we anticipated, that any filming or photographs must be limited to documenting the work of Relief International.
The city itself is a crossroads with several roads leading in and out – most of which are paved within the city. We could see hundreds of small villages when flying in; however, it was impossible to tell from the air whether they were inhabited. What is clear is that El Fasher is booming and bustling with activity – at least during the day. In addition to hundreds of thousands of displaced people living in close proximity, the city is also full of people who’ve lived there for years, hundreds of NGO workers and thousands of soldiers from either the government or one of the various factions, international and local.
One thing I find fascinating but hadn’t thought about until my arrival is the economic impact that NGOs and the UN and AU forces are having on the city. Everyone needs goods and services so the economy is on a definite upswing. Thousands of NGO workers need bottled water, food, vehicle maintenance, and housing. There are jobs to be found today that didn’t exist a few years ago – drivers, cleaning staff, cooks, security, vendors, haulers – you name it. The market in central El Fasher is packed full of sellers and buyers of everything from auto parts to fruit, vegetables, meat and sugar cane. The tomatoes are spectacular and the local fare includes fried grasshoppers – which, unfortunately, I wasn’t able to try. Water is also a sold commodity and the sellers distribute it with large oil-type tanks welded together and loaded onto carts pulled by horseback. There’s a well on the edge of town that’s busy all day long with water vendors filling up their tanks.
Our first day in El Fasher includes some driving about town and stops at both the guest house and Relief International offices. There are more briefings for tomorrow’s visit to Zam Zam camp.
There’s a curfew that everyone lives by and in our case that means mid-to-late afternoon in the guest house. The roads in the area close at 7:00 p.m. and the city curfew to be off the street completely is 8:00 p.m. For most NGO workers, it’s another early night catching up on the latest novel or watching satellite t.v. In our case, we’re catching on the news from Kenya, where things are not looking much better since I departed.
###
Thanks for following along on The Road To Darfur. Please visit again tomorrow for Day 6. If you’d like more information on the humanitarian work performed by Relief International throughout Sudan or elsewhere, please visit RI.org. For more information on The Duncan Group, visit DuncanEntertainment.com.
Darfur - Day 4
Please note that any opinions expressed in this blog are those of Chip Duncan and do not represent any other organizations or individuals. Darfur is a place of constant change and any statistical references are approximate and may change rapidly. If you are reading this after January, 2008, please verify any information with up-to-date and verifiable resources.
Day 4 – January 4th, 2008 – It’s a Friday, the holy day in Islam, and the city is especially quiet. Our clearance for flying to Darfur has come as quickly as we had hoped and our departure will be Saturday morning. That’s good news, but it leaves us with a full day in Khartoum with little to do.
Dr. Wali greets us at noon for a sightseeing trip through the city. It’s a hot, sunny day and people are out and about in city parks or lounging near their houses. We drive a bit and it’s quickly easy to see that Khartoum is a city of significant contrasts. There’s an oil boom in Sudan and that means an influx of new money. There are new business interests here from all parts of the planet, especially from China. There are several new high rises around the town center offset by numerous old buildings from the British colonial period.
Most of the roads in the city are paved but there are very few traffic lights and the turnabouts (another British relic) are often ignored. In other words, traffic moves in a very haphazard way – though compared to most large developing world cities, it’s not terribly overcrowded.
On our way to drive by the presidential palace we pass a Christian church that is very old and sits on prestigious land near the Nile River. I’ve read that while Sudan is an Islamic state, there are no restrictions on religious practice.
The presidential palace is like all of them – big, huge lawns and tall trees, overwhelming security. We stop at the National Museum for a look inside but it’s closed for the holy day.
The highlight of the drive is the bridge that overlaps the confluence of the two great rivers – The Blue Nile and The White Nile. Khartoum is where they unite into one to form the Nile River that continues northward to Cairo. The drive along the river’s edge is quite pretty and there’s almost no development adjacent to the river. It strikes me as a great spot for some outdoor cafes, though that doesn’t appear to be a big aspect of Sudanese social life. There are a few fishermen on the river and the water, from what we can tell, is unusually clean this far upstream. Given that there’s little industry to be found between here and the source of each river, I shouldn’t be surprised.
We have lunch near the airport again, then make a visit to what becomes the highlight of our day – the Hamad El Niel Mosque. It’s here that Sufis come on Fridays to celebrate their faith in the late afternoon. For more than an hour, we’re treated to the upbeat and beautiful practice that includes the famed “whirling dervishes.”
As the sun sets, we return to the guesthouse to prepare for our next day’s early morning flight to El Fashar in North Darfur.
###
Thanks for following along on The Road To Darfur. Please visit again tomorrow for Day 5.
Day 4 – January 4th, 2008 – It’s a Friday, the holy day in Islam, and the city is especially quiet. Our clearance for flying to Darfur has come as quickly as we had hoped and our departure will be Saturday morning. That’s good news, but it leaves us with a full day in Khartoum with little to do.
Dr. Wali greets us at noon for a sightseeing trip through the city. It’s a hot, sunny day and people are out and about in city parks or lounging near their houses. We drive a bit and it’s quickly easy to see that Khartoum is a city of significant contrasts. There’s an oil boom in Sudan and that means an influx of new money. There are new business interests here from all parts of the planet, especially from China. There are several new high rises around the town center offset by numerous old buildings from the British colonial period.
Most of the roads in the city are paved but there are very few traffic lights and the turnabouts (another British relic) are often ignored. In other words, traffic moves in a very haphazard way – though compared to most large developing world cities, it’s not terribly overcrowded.
On our way to drive by the presidential palace we pass a Christian church that is very old and sits on prestigious land near the Nile River. I’ve read that while Sudan is an Islamic state, there are no restrictions on religious practice.
The presidential palace is like all of them – big, huge lawns and tall trees, overwhelming security. We stop at the National Museum for a look inside but it’s closed for the holy day.
The highlight of the drive is the bridge that overlaps the confluence of the two great rivers – The Blue Nile and The White Nile. Khartoum is where they unite into one to form the Nile River that continues northward to Cairo. The drive along the river’s edge is quite pretty and there’s almost no development adjacent to the river. It strikes me as a great spot for some outdoor cafes, though that doesn’t appear to be a big aspect of Sudanese social life. There are a few fishermen on the river and the water, from what we can tell, is unusually clean this far upstream. Given that there’s little industry to be found between here and the source of each river, I shouldn’t be surprised.
We have lunch near the airport again, then make a visit to what becomes the highlight of our day – the Hamad El Niel Mosque. It’s here that Sufis come on Fridays to celebrate their faith in the late afternoon. For more than an hour, we’re treated to the upbeat and beautiful practice that includes the famed “whirling dervishes.”
As the sun sets, we return to the guesthouse to prepare for our next day’s early morning flight to El Fashar in North Darfur.
###
Thanks for following along on The Road To Darfur. Please visit again tomorrow for Day 5.
Saturday, January 12, 2008
Darfur - Day 3
The Road To Darfur (and back again)
a travel journey with documentary filmmaker Chip Duncan
Please note that any opinions expressed in this blog are those of Chip Duncan and do not represent any other organizations or individuals. Darfur is a place of constant change and any statistical references are approximate and may change rapidly. If you are reading this after January, 2008, please verify any information with up-to-date and verifiable resources.
Day 3 – January 3rd, 2008 – We’d been told in advance that getting to and from Darfur involved significant paperwork, permits and government approvals. Day three begins with a visit to a photo shop for more mugs shots of yours truly. Everything, it seems, requires identification and stamped approvals. Though there are computers here and while the guest house in Khartoum has a fast internet line, most government related activities still involve carbon copies and ink stamps, a common feature throughout much of the world.
Permissions are being sought for our final travel arrangements to Darfur and for use of cameras. In addition to the sizable bond we’ve put down with customs officials, we pay additional funds to secure “camera permits.” We soon have the right to take pictures, albeit under limited circumstances outlined on our permits. I’ve paid for permits many times before (including $8000.00 for a permit in Bhutan!) and for the government I’m sure there’s a dance between revenues and security. Since Sudan pretty much lacks a tourism industry, there’s little motivation for publicity.
We also make a trip to the US Embassy to register as Americans. It’s not something I generally do; however, the importance of it has been stressed due to the diplomat slaying that preceded our arrival. The embassy is located in the center part of the city and, as one would imagine, security around it is extremely tight. The roads are closed more than a block in every direction. We walk to the gate and find out that the embassy is closed and will not open again until Saturday. It’s not a holy day but we’re told it’s closed anyway. The Sudanese guard at the door does not tell us why.
After lunch at a western style restaurant near the airport (I ordered the mixed grill which included lamb sausages, lamb kebab and rice as well as a mango shake that was fantastic), we began our scheduled afternoon briefing. It was during the briefing that we were filled in on our general itinerary in Darfur as well as the types of humanitarian work being done there by Relief International. The briefing is a who’s who and what’s what of staff, maps, logistics and security concerns in the field.
It’s worth noting that:
1. Sudan is the largest country in Africa and the 10th largest in the world.
2. Darfur is roughly the size of France or about 25% the size of the continental United States.
3. There are three distinct regions in Darfur – North, West, and South.
We would be spending our time in North Darfur featuring humanitarian work in camps for displaced people in and around the cities of El Fashar and Kabkabiya.
While the politics of the region are significant and difficult to comprehend, I’ll leave that to a different writer. The resources online are many for those inclined to do their homework. Suffice it to say that the area is involved in a significant crisis that has left as many as two million people displaced from their homes. Many more have been relocated in camps just beyond the western border with Chad.
From what I could gather, there are as many as 15 separate factions involved in the fighting in Darfur. At roughly the time of our arrival, a hybrid involving the United Nations and the African Union forces was taking shape with an estimated 26,000 soldiers scheduled to arrive within weeks.
For our purposes, we would be visiting IDP camps (that is, temporary housing for internally displaced people) near El Fashar and Kabkabiya. There are three IDP camps near El Fashar including Al Salam, Abu Shouk and Zam Zam and several others further south. Each camp houses between 40,000 to 50,000 people. Relief International (RI.org) provides humanitarian assistance and medical care in Zam Zam. They also administer sustainable livelihood programs near Kabkabiya. More on that later in the journey …
The weather, we’re told, is at its best during our visit. It’s not the rainy season and relatively speaking, it’s cool. Days will be around 80-85 and nights will range from about 60-70. In addition, malaria risk is low during our visit. That said, both Bob and I are taking a daily medication called malarone.
Following the briefing, we catch up on sleep (especially overcoming jet lag – there’s a 9 hour time difference between Khartoum and Chicago).
###
Thanks for following along on The Road To Darfur. Please visit tomorrow for Day 4. If you have questions or thoughts, please feel free to email me at this blog site. You can also visit the website for Relief International (RI.org) for more information on humanitarian work in Darfur and ways you can help.
a travel journey with documentary filmmaker Chip Duncan
Please note that any opinions expressed in this blog are those of Chip Duncan and do not represent any other organizations or individuals. Darfur is a place of constant change and any statistical references are approximate and may change rapidly. If you are reading this after January, 2008, please verify any information with up-to-date and verifiable resources.
Day 3 – January 3rd, 2008 – We’d been told in advance that getting to and from Darfur involved significant paperwork, permits and government approvals. Day three begins with a visit to a photo shop for more mugs shots of yours truly. Everything, it seems, requires identification and stamped approvals. Though there are computers here and while the guest house in Khartoum has a fast internet line, most government related activities still involve carbon copies and ink stamps, a common feature throughout much of the world.
Permissions are being sought for our final travel arrangements to Darfur and for use of cameras. In addition to the sizable bond we’ve put down with customs officials, we pay additional funds to secure “camera permits.” We soon have the right to take pictures, albeit under limited circumstances outlined on our permits. I’ve paid for permits many times before (including $8000.00 for a permit in Bhutan!) and for the government I’m sure there’s a dance between revenues and security. Since Sudan pretty much lacks a tourism industry, there’s little motivation for publicity.
We also make a trip to the US Embassy to register as Americans. It’s not something I generally do; however, the importance of it has been stressed due to the diplomat slaying that preceded our arrival. The embassy is located in the center part of the city and, as one would imagine, security around it is extremely tight. The roads are closed more than a block in every direction. We walk to the gate and find out that the embassy is closed and will not open again until Saturday. It’s not a holy day but we’re told it’s closed anyway. The Sudanese guard at the door does not tell us why.
After lunch at a western style restaurant near the airport (I ordered the mixed grill which included lamb sausages, lamb kebab and rice as well as a mango shake that was fantastic), we began our scheduled afternoon briefing. It was during the briefing that we were filled in on our general itinerary in Darfur as well as the types of humanitarian work being done there by Relief International. The briefing is a who’s who and what’s what of staff, maps, logistics and security concerns in the field.
It’s worth noting that:
1. Sudan is the largest country in Africa and the 10th largest in the world.
2. Darfur is roughly the size of France or about 25% the size of the continental United States.
3. There are three distinct regions in Darfur – North, West, and South.
We would be spending our time in North Darfur featuring humanitarian work in camps for displaced people in and around the cities of El Fashar and Kabkabiya.
While the politics of the region are significant and difficult to comprehend, I’ll leave that to a different writer. The resources online are many for those inclined to do their homework. Suffice it to say that the area is involved in a significant crisis that has left as many as two million people displaced from their homes. Many more have been relocated in camps just beyond the western border with Chad.
From what I could gather, there are as many as 15 separate factions involved in the fighting in Darfur. At roughly the time of our arrival, a hybrid involving the United Nations and the African Union forces was taking shape with an estimated 26,000 soldiers scheduled to arrive within weeks.
For our purposes, we would be visiting IDP camps (that is, temporary housing for internally displaced people) near El Fashar and Kabkabiya. There are three IDP camps near El Fashar including Al Salam, Abu Shouk and Zam Zam and several others further south. Each camp houses between 40,000 to 50,000 people. Relief International (RI.org) provides humanitarian assistance and medical care in Zam Zam. They also administer sustainable livelihood programs near Kabkabiya. More on that later in the journey …
The weather, we’re told, is at its best during our visit. It’s not the rainy season and relatively speaking, it’s cool. Days will be around 80-85 and nights will range from about 60-70. In addition, malaria risk is low during our visit. That said, both Bob and I are taking a daily medication called malarone.
Following the briefing, we catch up on sleep (especially overcoming jet lag – there’s a 9 hour time difference between Khartoum and Chicago).
###
Thanks for following along on The Road To Darfur. Please visit tomorrow for Day 4. If you have questions or thoughts, please feel free to email me at this blog site. You can also visit the website for Relief International (RI.org) for more information on humanitarian work in Darfur and ways you can help.
Friday, January 11, 2008
Darfur - Day 2
The Road To Darfur (and back again)
a travel journey with documentary filmmaker Chip Duncan
Please note that any opinions expressed in this blog are those of Chip Duncan and do not represent any other organizations or individuals. Darfur is a place of constant change and any statistical references are approximate and may change rapidly. If you are reading this after January, 2008, please verify any information with up-to-date and verifiable resources.
Day 2 – Jan. 2, 2008 – Because I will be returning to Kenya on January 10th for a work project here, the first half of my day is spent packing and preparing for Sudan. The rioting is continuing and many tourists are now evacuating Kenya, especially the port city of Mombassa. I have a 2:00 airport departure and do my best to organize quickly.
With the television again set to BBC News, a new report brings my trip to Darfur into greater perspective. I’ve spent weeks preparing to visit Sudan and Darfur and there’s no doubt that my own anxiety is heightened over tensions there. Darfur is a war zone. Conditions there for the roughly 2 million displaced people are horrible … and it’s considered an unsafe and difficult place for humanitarian workers as well. How unsafe remains to be seen, but I’ve taken every precaution and am mentally and physically ready for the trip.
That said, reports are now in that a US diplomat from USAID has been murdered in the capital city of Khartoum in the early morning of January 1st. Thirty three year old John Granville is the first American diplomat murdered in Sudan since a US diplomat was killed in 1973. Both Granville and his driver were killed around 4:00 a.m. at an intersection in Khartoum.
Until now, I’d been thinking of Khartoum as a relatively safe city for foreigners.
From what I can gather on the t.v. news, the U.S. reaction to the killing is subdued as authorities wait for more facts. Apparently, the FBI is sending in an investigator who will work alongside Sudanese authorities. Considering I’m headed into the same area, I spend some time with my hosts at Relief International (RI.org) discussing security concerns in Khartoum. It’s considered a safe city for travelers and the notion of the killing as random violence by thugs holds some merit. Our preparation has been thorough and I fly in to Khartoum, arriving at 8:30 p.m.
I think about how humanitarian workers have to deal with these sorts of threats to personal safety every day. I’ve long believed them to be the real unsung heroes of our world today. They approach every day unarmed with anything but food and medicine for those who need it and an unusually positive attitude.
Fortunately for me, this isn’t my first time in a war zone nor my first with an NGO doing relief work. I visited Pakistan with Relief International in the winter of 2006 to cover the damage and relief efforts following their devastating earthquake in which more than 80,000 perished (*see DuncanEntertainment.com). I also journeyed throughout Afghanistan (yes, drove – as in two 4x4s covering more than 1500 miles armed with only a satellite phone and our goodwill) with a team from Save the Children in the spring of 2005. In both cases, I was traveling with my friend Mike Speaks. An international guide, Mike was always there to watch my back.
Now, as the plane is landing, I’m looking out the window for signs of familiarity. Comical as it may seem, there are flashing holiday-type lights on some of the buildings near the airport. At least they’re festive, I think. The boulevards near the airport are also wide and full of cars. Somehow flying into an active city teaming with people is a hopeful sign. People are not confined to their homes.
Dr. Wali, the dynamic country director for Relief International, meets me at the airport. We have the usual dynamics with customs officials – but with a twist. For the first time in more than 20 years of international travel as a documentary filmmaker, I’m asked to either give up my cameras or pay a sizable bond in US dollars (yeah, right, I think, like I’ll ever see that money again). Since I’m here to document the humanitarian work of RI, we have little choice but to pay the bond. With luck, we’ll get it back when I depart a week later.
By western standards, Sudan is a strict nation ruled by Islamic law called sharia. There’s no alcohol allowed (which dramatically limits social life) and the influence of Islam is significant throughout the city.
Dr. Wali escorts me to my accommodations in a guest house where I meet up with my fellow traveler – a Milwaukee-based businessman with a serious interest in the work of Relief International and helping people in Darfur. Bob’s a great guy with a big heart – and he’s also feeling the strain of 30 hours of sleepless travel and anxiety over the diplomat slaying less than 24 hours earlier. We agree to limit our time outdoors at night and to follow all security protocol established by RI. It’s quickly clear that the team, which is largely comprised of Sudanese nationals, is well versed in logistics and security matters.
Sleep is uneasy for me. As a westerner, it always takes me a few days to get used to the Muslim “call to prayer” emanating from the mosques several times each day. It’s especially difficult to sleep when it begins full volume at 4:00 a.m. I’m sure the locals have long been incorporated into their daily practice.
-----
Thanks for following along on The Road To Darfur. Please visit tomorrow for Day 3. If you have questions or thoughts, please feel free to email me at this blog site. You can also visit the websites for Relief International (RI.org) or DuncanEntertainment.com for more information. Additional photos of Pakistan and Afghanistan can be accessed from the home page of DuncanEntertainment.com.
a travel journey with documentary filmmaker Chip Duncan
Please note that any opinions expressed in this blog are those of Chip Duncan and do not represent any other organizations or individuals. Darfur is a place of constant change and any statistical references are approximate and may change rapidly. If you are reading this after January, 2008, please verify any information with up-to-date and verifiable resources.
Day 2 – Jan. 2, 2008 – Because I will be returning to Kenya on January 10th for a work project here, the first half of my day is spent packing and preparing for Sudan. The rioting is continuing and many tourists are now evacuating Kenya, especially the port city of Mombassa. I have a 2:00 airport departure and do my best to organize quickly.
With the television again set to BBC News, a new report brings my trip to Darfur into greater perspective. I’ve spent weeks preparing to visit Sudan and Darfur and there’s no doubt that my own anxiety is heightened over tensions there. Darfur is a war zone. Conditions there for the roughly 2 million displaced people are horrible … and it’s considered an unsafe and difficult place for humanitarian workers as well. How unsafe remains to be seen, but I’ve taken every precaution and am mentally and physically ready for the trip.
That said, reports are now in that a US diplomat from USAID has been murdered in the capital city of Khartoum in the early morning of January 1st. Thirty three year old John Granville is the first American diplomat murdered in Sudan since a US diplomat was killed in 1973. Both Granville and his driver were killed around 4:00 a.m. at an intersection in Khartoum.
Until now, I’d been thinking of Khartoum as a relatively safe city for foreigners.
From what I can gather on the t.v. news, the U.S. reaction to the killing is subdued as authorities wait for more facts. Apparently, the FBI is sending in an investigator who will work alongside Sudanese authorities. Considering I’m headed into the same area, I spend some time with my hosts at Relief International (RI.org) discussing security concerns in Khartoum. It’s considered a safe city for travelers and the notion of the killing as random violence by thugs holds some merit. Our preparation has been thorough and I fly in to Khartoum, arriving at 8:30 p.m.
I think about how humanitarian workers have to deal with these sorts of threats to personal safety every day. I’ve long believed them to be the real unsung heroes of our world today. They approach every day unarmed with anything but food and medicine for those who need it and an unusually positive attitude.
Fortunately for me, this isn’t my first time in a war zone nor my first with an NGO doing relief work. I visited Pakistan with Relief International in the winter of 2006 to cover the damage and relief efforts following their devastating earthquake in which more than 80,000 perished (*see DuncanEntertainment.com). I also journeyed throughout Afghanistan (yes, drove – as in two 4x4s covering more than 1500 miles armed with only a satellite phone and our goodwill) with a team from Save the Children in the spring of 2005. In both cases, I was traveling with my friend Mike Speaks. An international guide, Mike was always there to watch my back.
Now, as the plane is landing, I’m looking out the window for signs of familiarity. Comical as it may seem, there are flashing holiday-type lights on some of the buildings near the airport. At least they’re festive, I think. The boulevards near the airport are also wide and full of cars. Somehow flying into an active city teaming with people is a hopeful sign. People are not confined to their homes.
Dr. Wali, the dynamic country director for Relief International, meets me at the airport. We have the usual dynamics with customs officials – but with a twist. For the first time in more than 20 years of international travel as a documentary filmmaker, I’m asked to either give up my cameras or pay a sizable bond in US dollars (yeah, right, I think, like I’ll ever see that money again). Since I’m here to document the humanitarian work of RI, we have little choice but to pay the bond. With luck, we’ll get it back when I depart a week later.
By western standards, Sudan is a strict nation ruled by Islamic law called sharia. There’s no alcohol allowed (which dramatically limits social life) and the influence of Islam is significant throughout the city.
Dr. Wali escorts me to my accommodations in a guest house where I meet up with my fellow traveler – a Milwaukee-based businessman with a serious interest in the work of Relief International and helping people in Darfur. Bob’s a great guy with a big heart – and he’s also feeling the strain of 30 hours of sleepless travel and anxiety over the diplomat slaying less than 24 hours earlier. We agree to limit our time outdoors at night and to follow all security protocol established by RI. It’s quickly clear that the team, which is largely comprised of Sudanese nationals, is well versed in logistics and security matters.
Sleep is uneasy for me. As a westerner, it always takes me a few days to get used to the Muslim “call to prayer” emanating from the mosques several times each day. It’s especially difficult to sleep when it begins full volume at 4:00 a.m. I’m sure the locals have long been incorporated into their daily practice.
-----
Thanks for following along on The Road To Darfur. Please visit tomorrow for Day 3. If you have questions or thoughts, please feel free to email me at this blog site. You can also visit the websites for Relief International (RI.org) or DuncanEntertainment.com for more information. Additional photos of Pakistan and Afghanistan can be accessed from the home page of DuncanEntertainment.com.
Thursday, January 10, 2008
Darfur - Day 1
The Road To Darfur (and back again)
a travel journey with documentary filmmaker Chip Duncan
Please note that any opinions expressed in this blog are those of Chip Duncan and do not represent any other organizations or individuals. Darfur is a place of constant change and any statistical references are approximate and may change rapidly. If you are reading this after January, 2008, please verify any information with up-to-date and verifiable resources.
Day 1 – January 1st, 2008 – It’s an unusual time to arrive in Nairobi, Kenya. I plopped my bags down just before midnight and brought in 2008 alone in the lobby bar of the Fairview Hotel. It’s light on guests because Nairobi is in day 3 of rioting following the election battle between incumbent President Mwai Kibaki and opposition leader Raila Odinga. Kibaki has declared victory and numerous election officials (as well as Odinga) are crying “fraud.”
When I wake up on Jan. 1, I ring my friend Salim Amin, son of famed African photojournalist Mohammed Amin and owner of the great Nairobi-based television production company, Camerapix (camerapix.com). Salim fills me in on what’s happening around the city and the countryside. Locally, the two major slums in Nairobi are awash in rioting as sympathizers of Odinga fight against police and call for new elections.
Salim and a few fellow journalists (Kenyan and international) pick me up and I ride along to a press conference by government spokesman Alfred Mutua. Like all government spokesmen, he assures everyone that the situation is fine and calls the protestors “hooligans” and not political activists. They are, he says, just taking advantage of the situation to loot and steal. He artfully deflects notions of tribal and ethnic tension between the Luo and the Kikuyu. (*It should be noted that Kikuyu represent approximately 22% of Kenya’s roughly 37 million people and Luo represent approximately 13%. Kikuyu leaders have held power here since independence from the British in 1963.)
At the press conference, the national police chief reports approximately 45 dead and roughly 3000 displaced by rioting. Hardest hit in Nairobi is a slum called Kibera – a place I had a chance to visit and photograph in 2005 and 2007.
At lunch with Salim and his colleagues, a call comes in that a church in Eldoret (185 miles from Nairobi) has been set afire with numerous children killed in the blaze. The first report suggests the church was ignited by Luo and that the victims are Kikuyu. Within minutes, my lunch pals are off again and I tune in to BBC News for live reports from the area. It appears that spokesman Mutua has misjudged the situation. Rioting is now happening in several parts of Kenya including Mombasa and Kisumu.
With one off day before my flight to Khartoum, I write up an article for the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel profiling Kibera slum and my experience there (jsonline.com/story/index.aspx?id=703668). If nothing else, I hope to shed some light on the economic disparity in Kenya and give a face and voice to the people of Kibera. The government of the past five years is considerably more progressive than the two previous administrations and the economy here is doing well. Tourism is booming and Kenya’s future looks bright. That said, millions of Kenyans still live in desperate poverty.
By the end of January 1st, especially in light of the church burning, most Kenyans are inside their homes watching news reports. The government has banned “live” broadcasts from Kenyan broadcasters so much of what’s being reported is coming from BBC and CNN. The day ends with increased anxiety around the church killings. It is eerily reminiscent of the beginnings of the genocide in Rwanda in 1994.
---
Thanks for following along on The Road To Darfur. Please visit tomorrow for Day 2. If you have questions or thoughts, please feel free to email me at this blog site. You can also visit the websites for Relief International (RI.org) or DuncanEntertainment.com for more information. Additional photos of Kibera can be accessed from the home page of DuncanEntertainment.com.
---
a travel journey with documentary filmmaker Chip Duncan
Please note that any opinions expressed in this blog are those of Chip Duncan and do not represent any other organizations or individuals. Darfur is a place of constant change and any statistical references are approximate and may change rapidly. If you are reading this after January, 2008, please verify any information with up-to-date and verifiable resources.
Day 1 – January 1st, 2008 – It’s an unusual time to arrive in Nairobi, Kenya. I plopped my bags down just before midnight and brought in 2008 alone in the lobby bar of the Fairview Hotel. It’s light on guests because Nairobi is in day 3 of rioting following the election battle between incumbent President Mwai Kibaki and opposition leader Raila Odinga. Kibaki has declared victory and numerous election officials (as well as Odinga) are crying “fraud.”
When I wake up on Jan. 1, I ring my friend Salim Amin, son of famed African photojournalist Mohammed Amin and owner of the great Nairobi-based television production company, Camerapix (camerapix.com). Salim fills me in on what’s happening around the city and the countryside. Locally, the two major slums in Nairobi are awash in rioting as sympathizers of Odinga fight against police and call for new elections.
Salim and a few fellow journalists (Kenyan and international) pick me up and I ride along to a press conference by government spokesman Alfred Mutua. Like all government spokesmen, he assures everyone that the situation is fine and calls the protestors “hooligans” and not political activists. They are, he says, just taking advantage of the situation to loot and steal. He artfully deflects notions of tribal and ethnic tension between the Luo and the Kikuyu. (*It should be noted that Kikuyu represent approximately 22% of Kenya’s roughly 37 million people and Luo represent approximately 13%. Kikuyu leaders have held power here since independence from the British in 1963.)
At the press conference, the national police chief reports approximately 45 dead and roughly 3000 displaced by rioting. Hardest hit in Nairobi is a slum called Kibera – a place I had a chance to visit and photograph in 2005 and 2007.
At lunch with Salim and his colleagues, a call comes in that a church in Eldoret (185 miles from Nairobi) has been set afire with numerous children killed in the blaze. The first report suggests the church was ignited by Luo and that the victims are Kikuyu. Within minutes, my lunch pals are off again and I tune in to BBC News for live reports from the area. It appears that spokesman Mutua has misjudged the situation. Rioting is now happening in several parts of Kenya including Mombasa and Kisumu.
With one off day before my flight to Khartoum, I write up an article for the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel profiling Kibera slum and my experience there (jsonline.com/story/index.aspx?id=703668). If nothing else, I hope to shed some light on the economic disparity in Kenya and give a face and voice to the people of Kibera. The government of the past five years is considerably more progressive than the two previous administrations and the economy here is doing well. Tourism is booming and Kenya’s future looks bright. That said, millions of Kenyans still live in desperate poverty.
By the end of January 1st, especially in light of the church burning, most Kenyans are inside their homes watching news reports. The government has banned “live” broadcasts from Kenyan broadcasters so much of what’s being reported is coming from BBC and CNN. The day ends with increased anxiety around the church killings. It is eerily reminiscent of the beginnings of the genocide in Rwanda in 1994.
---
Thanks for following along on The Road To Darfur. Please visit tomorrow for Day 2. If you have questions or thoughts, please feel free to email me at this blog site. You can also visit the websites for Relief International (RI.org) or DuncanEntertainment.com for more information. Additional photos of Kibera can be accessed from the home page of DuncanEntertainment.com.
---
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