Saturday, June 19, 2010

Juba, South Sudan

Already 2:15PM and am still lying in my bed. Nothing in particular is interesting here as always. I came last night from Havana to watch the game between Algeria and England. The result was drama. Today, I remember is also my youngest sister's birthday.

Still I am preoccupied by the thoughts of going to Kathmandu. I am so excited yet I still have not booked a flight. I am still not sure whether to travel on July 23 or July 30. That all depends on how my schedule would be in the weeks to follow. At least I have an idea of how much would it cost to travel to Kathmandu from here and also I have found out how best to book the travel cheaply.

Lately, after being here in Juba since May 17, I am always lost of thoughts with regards to work. No idea what is entering on my mind. The only thing I know is that work wise it is overwhelming and to have a coherence on where to start and to finish what I had started is just out of my brain.

Yesterday, I received a letter from Nilda. It is to be sent to her brother who lives in Manila. Of course, I am privy to the content. The letter was hand written that I need to type and post it by email. I am not going to delve on its content but in summary I see her struggles and feels her wants to come back to her home country. There are many obstacles to it but she is being patient. In the end, she finished letter on a high and positive tone. I am keeping it so that I can give to her brother the original document. A proof that it was my source.

Few more hours, our generator will be turned off. Part of the usual routine. Thus, it would be my time to do my own exercise. One need to be conscious of his/her physical health here in Juba or otherwise this place just wears you done.

I will try to find a way to make my stay here more endearing. And the work to be more interesting. In the end, I came here to make a difference in our workplace and the people whom we serve.

I just hope I will be successful.

November 25, 2009 - A Filipina named Nilda

This blog entry is not about me. This blog entry is about Nilda — a Filipina who has lived in Juba, South Sudan, for over two decades and is married to a South Sudanese. I am so ecstatic to meet her this morning. Another Filipina colleague mentioned her to me this morning while having breakfast. She met Nilda yesterday in a hospital, preparing food for some hospital patients. My colleague visited another colleague whose daughter was down with malaria. On our way to work, on taking our daily 15 minutes walking commute to our office, we took a quick detour and visited her at her house since it was along our way. Her place is not extraordinary. She lives in a compound along arrays of tukuls (a home made of mud). A simple way of life is what she lives. She is not married to any big shots in Sudanese society. She met her Sudanese husband in the Philippines while both were students at UPLB. She is like Emma in the biographical novel Emma’s War, except that Emma was married to a warlord and rather living the high life.

We saw her outside when she was washing her dishes. Like all the other houses here, you have to do your dishes and laundry outside. No running water exists, let alone a faucet attached to your kitchen sink or a pipe to your washing machine. Let us not go into the details of how one does their morning constitution. Sitting in a squat position while rinsing the dishes, we greeted her. She was happy to see us. I introduced myself, and she extended her wet hands (sans the soap suds). We shook hands, which is the customary gesture of greeting, and no beso-beso. She said she seldom sees Filipinos, and like us, most Filipinos she met are associated with the humanitarian sector.

I wouldn’t blame her; who wants to be here in Juba in the first place? I said it to myself quietly since this place has no amenities. We talked in Tagalog (as she prefers and calls the language given that the politically correct reference for it is Filipino). However, she gave us the option to speak in Visaya or Juba Arabic or Classical Arabic and suddenly explained the subtle differences between the two Arabic. She said she has never been back home for 22 years, although she makes regular phone calls to her brothers and sisters who still live in Manila. 

Remember, this place is Juba, South Sudan. This city is not Geneva, Rome, New York, Washington DC, or Singapore, where once you step out of your office building, you are certain to bump into a Filipino clinging to their designer wear. Rather, this country has been ravaged by war for the last five decades. This country only signed its peace deal with its northern counterpart four years ago; the situation is still volatile. Seeing the sliver of a peaceful future still is a big question. Infrastructure is very basic. The roads are just being constructed, and you are certain to be mudded during the rainy season, which is now. In addition, electricity is intermittent. To work here, we must rely on our fuel generators for electrical supply. Meeting her today was such an inspiring moment. For my ten years of working in the international humanitarian arena, I met no other compatriot like her. I cannot wait to see her again tonight to hear more of her stories. I want to know more about her background, four children, life during the war, and more about her existence in Sudan. I think I found my own Emma — a Filipina named Nilda.