"This is full war" Well, what Yousif really means to say every time he says that is "this is
field work!" That, and "that road is bad" are his two English sentences. The latter is a sign of trouble ahead, while "field work" to him might as well be "full war" and is equivalent to a really tough situation. Wednesday we were off at 9 am to visit another partner. We stopped at 10 for a mid-morning lunch (egyptian beans with oil and onions, accompanied by liver.... the good bread would save me from hunger and hold me over until our dinner at 7). We reached the partners by 12 and had some tea and coffee at the "market" before heading to their "office". The tree wasn't doing a good job at protecting us from the first rain drops so we moved into an empty brick building (room) near the "market". A long discussion and we were out of there by 2. "We'll be back by 4! When it's raining it's better" exclaimed David. I guess you could argue that a slight rain made the mud a little smoother and easier to slide on and harder to get stuck in, but this was a serious tropical downpour. Anyone who has spent time in the tropics during the rainy season will know what that's like, but try driving down a river of mud with that rain coming down. The rain had just started as we were getting into the car and we were hoping to make it past the worst part of the "road" before the rain got worse, but just in case we gave a ride to a Save the Children guy hoping he could help us push if needed. I was sitting in the back on one of the benches and everyone started fastening their seat belts... who knew we even had any! Who wears seat belts in the bush unless they are afraid of crashing into bushes? Time to find and tighten my own. The notoriously "crazy part" of the "road" was our enemy. Once we passed it we'd be fine the rest of the way. The ordeal lasted 5 minutes. I held my camera tight in my right hand the whole way trying to capture this rare film of true
full war. It was almost like riding on ice. The car goes wherever it wants, into the fields, back on track, back into the corn fields, this time almost pulling a 180. Can't go forward. A super-quick change of gear and we reverse out and back ahead. You can't take your foot off the gas or it's all over, can't push on the break, just have to keep going. Yousif's wild arm movements rally-style and the windshield wipers are just not fast enough. James in the front seats decides to wipe the windshield with a cloth, but as he bounces from one side to the other the only thing stopping him from ending up on Yousif's lap is the always-reliable seat belt. Around minute two we skid past a woman who is standing in a field to our right... we could have hit her, but no time to think about that, especially Yousif can't afford to look back. An F1-style chicane ahead and Yousif's arms are looking like a baker's wrist movement while whipping. We barely miss one tree to our left, hit another one that is lying to our right, but there's no stopping. Looks like we're stuck, the car is struggling, but we make it out. We are into the 4th minute and the "road" is now looking more like a river and water is flying off the wheels on all sides. We must be reaching the end, almost there, but suddenly we hit another ditch. Again I lose control of my right arm securing the camera, but I've held firm and haven't dropped it. The wheels are spinning, it's not looking good. We know that sound all too well. We're officially stuck.
Time to take a shower. Shirts off, roll up the jeans, sandals off, and we're out into the mud. It wouldn't be until the next day that we'd realize how many thorns got into our feet. The first thing to do is to try to push and so we did. "Everyone, one, two, three".... The back wheels were stuck in a ditch that had essentially become a stream and was not going to make things easy. We tried with the jack lifting the back wheels, pushing forward, then everyone running to the front of the vehicle and pushing back. The rain never stopped. Gather branches and throw them under the tires, maybe that will help the wheels catch. Yet another try backwards and wait, it's going... we got it out! We rejoice and Yousif walks ahead to figure out how to pass this tricky spot. We move out of the way and let him do his magic, but as he tries to go around the side the ditch prevails once again and this time catches the front tires. Back we go to our pushing routine. Branches to fill the ditch, but the mud just sucks it all in. We got the Land Rover out once again, but pushed it back a little too far and got it stuck in the bushes. Another simple push and it was out again, but the ditch was not going to let us win, and back they went, the front tires, right into the ditch with no way out. If there had been young men walking by we might have asked for their help for another big push, but the only passer-byers were women and children or old men with walking sticks. Just our luck. We had spent more than 2 and a half hours in the rain, it would take my fingers hours to return to normal as the tips were wrinkled from the excess water. We eventually gave up and decided to walk to the town we knew was not too far (maybe a half hour "footing", if that) to get help in the form of a tractor, which would be able to pull our vehicle out. Well, we discovered on the way to the town that between the vehicle and town were 2 impossible hurdles. One kilometer or so down the road, just when we had assumed it was all clear, the road turned into a river. How? Well, whenever rain falls in this spot, two rivers form and flow across the road only a couple hundred yards of road between them; but the rain had been so heavy that the first river had flooded the area between the two rivers and the "road" had served as a nice new river bed. We crossed the first river, which was not flowing too quickly and wasn't too deep, just up to the waist. "When you walk in sand you need to drag your feet" was the advice Charles gave me as we crossed. We were already drenched so when it came to jumping into a river waist-high to get across, we didn't think twice about it. We then walked through the water of the river that had formed along the road, with water only reaching our thighs, until we reached the second river.
A few hours earlier this river had been completely dry, only a bed of sand, but now it was a fierce flow of water, ideal for rafting. We were led by David - the fearless one, having walked for days during the war to escape "the enemy", and having crossed the Nile with crocodiles and snakes ready to attack. However, I was a little skeptical of his experience with rapids given the fact that the Nile is generally quite calm, but we were determined to get to the town. Dragging our feet in the sand we moved through the water keeping our arms out as David kept warning James, "don't look down". James was the shortest amongst us and was definitely the most concerned (a Kenyan, not a Sudanese) as the water was high well past his waist, but holding Charles's hand he made it across. The Save the Children guy offered us shelter at their compound next to the market. We were ready for food, but needed to find a tractor. By 9 we were all lying on mattresses ready to sleep, with the vehicle safely in the compound, having been dragged back by a beastly tractor that somehow had made it across the rivers and through the mud without being washed away. Our clothes were soaked, so we borrowed random clothes that were lying around the rooms we were staying in, and looked like a bunch of clowns
the next morning as we went to the market to have tea. I was wearing florescent green sweat-pants that only came up to just below my knee, while David was wearing a bright blue jump suit. Charles had gotten himself a pair of Chinese shorts at the market and James refused to go barefoot like the rest of us and had picked up pinkish purple sandals a couple sizes too small. We sat there taking tea seated under a tree as the woman filled the glasses with way too much sugar and brought us some biscuits from another shop nearby. Ok, we're done, David turned to the woman, "how much do we owe you?" She looked at him with a shy smile and said "I don't know". We proceeded to figure out the bill for her. Total of 6 pounds (50 cents US) per person. We handed her a 10 and she reached into her pocket. She knew we had given her too much, but she wasn't sure how many of which bills to give us in change. We helped her choose four 1-pound notes and bid her farewell. Money is a huge headache here because there are 3 currencies: new pounds, old pounds, and dinar. The only difference between them is the number of zeros, (1 new pound = 100 dinar = 1000 old pounds) so you can imagine the confusion. And to add to the difficulty there is number illiteracy. Some people are not aware that the comma should only be placed every three digits. I even saw someone write 1,000,500 only to find out later that he meant one thousand five hundred. Makes sense I guess. I have seen people bargain and argue to only find out that they were talking about different numbers and different currencies. Upon realizing it they smile and go back to trying to agree on a currency and a figure. If the French and Italians are still talking in Francs and Lira years after the introduction of the Euro I'm not sure what will happen here.
Time to take a shower. Shirts off, roll up the jeans, sandals off, and we're out into the mud. It wouldn't be until the next day that we'd realize how many thorns got into our feet. The first thing to do is to try to push and so we did. "Everyone, one, two, three".... The back wheels were stuck in a ditch that had essentially become a stream and was not going to make things easy. We tried with the jack lifting the back wheels, pushing forward, then everyone running to the front of the vehicle and pushing back. The rain never stopped. Gather branches and throw them under the tires, maybe that will help the wheels catch. Yet another try backwards and wait, it's going... we got it out! We rejoice and Yousif walks ahead to figure out how to pass this tricky spot. We move out of the way and let him do his magic, but as he tries to go around the side the ditch prevails once again and this time catches the front tires. Back we go to our pushing routine. Branches to fill the ditch, but the mud just sucks it all in. We got the Land Rover out once again, but pushed it back a little too far and got it stuck in the bushes. Another simple push and it was out again, but the ditch was not going to let us win, and back they went, the front tires, right into the ditch with no way out. If there had been young men walking by we might have asked for their help for another big push, but the only passer-byers were women and children or old men with walking sticks. Just our luck. We had spent more than 2 and a half hours in the rain, it would take my fingers hours to return to normal as the tips were wrinkled from the excess water. We eventually gave up and decided to walk to the town we knew was not too far (maybe a half hour "footing", if that) to get help in the form of a tractor, which would be able to pull our vehicle out. Well, we discovered on the way to the town that between the vehicle and town were 2 impossible hurdles. One kilometer or so down the road, just when we had assumed it was all clear, the road turned into a river. How? Well, whenever rain falls in this spot, two rivers form and flow across the road only a couple hundred yards of road between them; but the rain had been so heavy that the first river had flooded the area between the two rivers and the "road" had served as a nice new river bed. We crossed the first river, which was not flowing too quickly and wasn't too deep, just up to the waist. "When you walk in sand you need to drag your feet" was the advice Charles gave me as we crossed. We were already drenched so when it came to jumping into a river waist-high to get across, we didn't think twice about it. We then walked through the water of the river that had formed along the road, with water only reaching our thighs, until we reached the second river. 
A few hours earlier this river had been completely dry, only a bed of sand, but now it was a fierce flow of water, ideal for rafting. We were led by David - the fearless one, having walked for days during the war to escape "the enemy", and having crossed the Nile with crocodiles and snakes ready to attack. However, I was a little skeptical of his experience with rapids given the fact that the Nile is generally quite calm, but we were determined to get to the town. Dragging our feet in the sand we moved through the water keeping our arms out as David kept warning James, "don't look down". James was the shortest amongst us and was definitely the most concerned (a Kenyan, not a Sudanese) as the water was high well past his waist, but holding Charles's hand he made it across. The Save the Children guy offered us shelter at their compound next to the market. We were ready for food, but needed to find a tractor. By 9 we were all lying on mattresses ready to sleep, with the vehicle safely in the compound, having been dragged back by a beastly tractor that somehow had made it across the rivers and through the mud without being washed away. Our clothes were soaked, so we borrowed random clothes that were lying around the rooms we were staying in, and looked like a bunch of clowns 
the next morning as we went to the market to have tea. I was wearing florescent green sweat-pants that only came up to just below my knee, while David was wearing a bright blue jump suit. Charles had gotten himself a pair of Chinese shorts at the market and James refused to go barefoot like the rest of us and had picked up pinkish purple sandals a couple sizes too small. We sat there taking tea seated under a tree as the woman filled the glasses with way too much sugar and brought us some biscuits from another shop nearby. Ok, we're done, David turned to the woman, "how much do we owe you?" She looked at him with a shy smile and said "I don't know". We proceeded to figure out the bill for her. Total of 6 pounds (50 cents US) per person. We handed her a 10 and she reached into her pocket. She knew we had given her too much, but she wasn't sure how many of which bills to give us in change. We helped her choose four 1-pound notes and bid her farewell. Money is a huge headache here because there are 3 currencies: new pounds, old pounds, and dinar. The only difference between them is the number of zeros, (1 new pound = 100 dinar = 1000 old pounds) so you can imagine the confusion. And to add to the difficulty there is number illiteracy. Some people are not aware that the comma should only be placed every three digits. I even saw someone write 1,000,500 only to find out later that he meant one thousand five hundred. Makes sense I guess. I have seen people bargain and argue to only find out that they were talking about different numbers and different currencies. Upon realizing it they smile and go back to trying to agree on a currency and a figure. If the French and Italians are still talking in Francs and Lira years after the introduction of the Euro I'm not sure what will happen here.
No comments:
Post a Comment