My goodness, what progress this new country of South Sudan is making! It is exceptional really to think about it. There is a new flag proudly flying above every building and a new national anthem to sing. They have already created a new constitution and are busy with the redefining of the roles and responsibilities of their Ministries.

Many of the Ministers have been (or are in the process of being) retired or relocated to other agencies. The intelligence agency has been disbanded and will be restructured and reformed in the near future due to security concerns from the old guard working too closely with their northern counterparts.

And while there may be some allegations of misappropriation of donor funds there is certainly nothing that I have noticed in my short time here. As a matter of fact there are already some entrepreneurial local folks who are driving new Hummers (?) and building new houses (?) for themselves all over the city.  It shows how industrious and hard working they can be when they put their minds to it.

South Sudan has just introduced a new currency into circulation and the old money will be worthless by the end on August. Note to self get rid of your Sudanese pounds as soon as you can.

Therefore with all this progress and these fantastic changes happening to the newest country in the world, I was thrilled to have the opportunity to visit a neighborhood in Juba called, “Rock City”. It is located at the base of, “Jebel Mountain” and it is close to a Hotel called (appropriately) “Jebel Lodge” where a lot of UN folks go to relax and take a swim. Yes, they have a swimming pool here and a restaurant and folks love going there to sit back and read a book. Since I had never been there, I was excited to see a new area of Juba that I had not seen previously.

My expectations were high and the thought of going to, “Rock City” conjured up visions of little bars and small hotels where folks came to unwind after a long hard week. I even expected to see some seedy little hole in the wall nightclub when we drove through the area.

Well I must say, like everything else in this mission, my vision and expectations of what to expect were quickly and quietly quashed as we drove into the neighborhood.  As a matter of fact, I was absolutely speechless and in awe by what I saw. It took me several moments to comprehend the sight and determine that it was actually real and not an amusement park.

Small children and their mothers, sat under a Mango tree with hammers (or other tools of husbandry) and knocked or chipped away at bigger rocks in order to create piles of stones that they could stack up along the roadside. These piles of stones were stacked in a cone shape and were approximately three feet in height. That means they were approximately three to four feet across the base of the pile.

The first day I drove through Rock City, I never saw any men working here, only women and children in the heat of the day under the Mango tree trying to make a living in order to survive.  I watched in awe as a woman came down from Jebel Mountain carrying a bucket on her head that was laden down with rocks. It would have crushed my vertebra. The second day I drove by, I did see a man carrying rocks and then I saw the other men collecting the money from the sales.

It was definately a first for me to see hand made gravel being sold so these families could survive. It was obviously a trade that had been handed down from generation to generation due to the length of time they had been located here. So long in fact, that they had their own name forever lodged in time. “Rock City”! It was like something out of the Flintstones era!

I wonder how many of these cone shaped gravel piles the other folks had to create and sell in order to buy their new Hummers and build their new homes? 

Daniel Jones

Juba, Sudan  

The one thing about being in a Mission with so many other nations is being exposed to the rich history and pride they display on certain national memorial days. Such was the case on the 25^th of April when the Australians made a request to the Turkish Officers in mission to participate in ANZAC Day celebrations.

More than 10,000 Australian and New Zealand servicemen died during that campaign that began at dawn on the 25^th of April 1915 and lasted nearly 8 months.

British, French, Australian, and New Zealand forces had attempted an invasion of Turkey to try and cut them out of the war and bring an early end to WW1. It was unsuccessful and the 25^th April is a celebration for those who sacrificed their lives in the name of freedom.

We met at dawn on the 25^th and an Australian flag was hoisted to half mast followed by a minute of silence and then the playing of both Australian and Turkish national anthems.

Then came the, “Gunfire Breakfast”! History tells us that the Aussie’s were given rum in their milk the morning of the invasion in order to steady their nerves before entering in to battle.

Therefore in honor of the fallen, a bottle of rum was brought out and rum was poured into glasses and milk was then added. A toast was made and the drink was consumed.

The Turkish Ambassador (in the dark suit) was present and made a small speech along with the Australian representative.

For any of you who have ever had a family member or relative past or present involved in conflict, this small ceremony paid tribute to and honored them as well.

I have attached a couple of photos of the event and our Canadian contingent was honored to participate in it.

Dan Jones

Rain Drops Keep Falling on My Head (Thanks BJ Thomas)

We seem to always find things to keep us busy here in Sudan. Which I guess is a good thing as doing nothing will drive you crazy. One of the photos is a shot of my accommodations. It is a converted container, nothing more. Now that the rainy season has descended upon our little slice of paradise, we are spending more and more time inside these boxes trying to figure out activities to keep the time moving.

Of course with the rain, come the frogs and with the frogs come the snakes. I actually thought I heard a wild hog outside my container the past few evenings but I have been advised that it is just the call of the midnight frog. These noises being emitted out of the tiny mouths of these little creatures are incredible. You can be inside your container on the phone to your wife and she will ask, “What is that noise?” They sound like a small bull dozer. And the rain keeps falling making the evenings extremely humid but making the mornings very pleasant.

Recently, C/Supt. Barbara Fleury - Director General of International Policing, Royal Canadian Mounted Police and Insp. Kevin Miller - Officer in Charge of Operations, International Peace Operations Branch, Royal Canadian Mounted Police flew to Sudan to see how the members were handling their International duties and to see if there was anything we needed. They made all the proper comments with respect to dirty water to shower in and raw sewage floating through the camp.

We arranged for a road trip to a team site and came across the people you see in the photo walking across the bridge that is falling apart. Note that most do not have shoes to wear and what they carry on their shoulders is all that many of them own. So we stopped and talked with them, gave them some gum and moved on. Just recognizing their existence was enough to make them smile. It felt a little empty to us but it did remind us of why we are here.

The past several weeks taken their toll on many of our colleagues here in Sudan and around the world. There was an attack on the UN Compound in Afghanistan, a plane crash in the Congo, a motor vehicle fatality in Haiti as well as one in Entebbe and a car jacking fatality in Darfur. It was interesting listening to the UN police here talk about some the individual fatalities who they knew and worked with back in their home countries.

It reinforces the fact that it is a relatively small circle of people who are involved in peacekeeping and many of them know each other from previous missions. That old adage that, sometimes things go wrong and there is nothing you can do about it is one way to keep the spirits alive. Everyone remembers why they are here and they keep doing what they do best. Our thoughts and prayers are with the loved ones who have been left behind!

Dan

Sudan is a cultural melting pot for eastern Africa. With a solid Muslim base in the north and a solid Christian base in the south, both areas experience many varying cultural diversities of their neighbors from bordering countries.

Northern Sudan accepts their border neighbors from Egypt, Libya, Eritrea and Ethiopia. A large section of their country in the west makes up the Darfur region.

Southern Sudan borders Ethiopia, Kenya, Uganda, Congo and the DRC. Their borders are fluid and we see Rwandans, Ghanaians, Nigerians and many others who drift in or through Sudan searching for a better way of life or perhaps they are just passing by heading to neighboring countries.

Years of conflict have devastated this vast region and the influx of all of these new visitors, refugees and displaced people, have created a haven for the predators who seek out the young and vulnerable individuals who are simply trying to exist and survive in their day to day struggle with life. 

I see very young kids, five or six years old, playing alone or with their friends, along the side of the gravel roads we travel on in our big shiny white UN vehicles. These kids have very little hope of experiencing any kind of life close to that of what we enjoy in our country. These kids are washing themselves in the muddy ditch water beside the road and when they see us, they put on a huge smile and wave frantically, hoping that we will simply acknowledge their presence.

You continually wish there was something you could do for these kids that would provide some form of security in their lives and create a more enjoyable and comfortable existence.

So when an opportunity comes along to try and do something positive here, most Canadian peacekeepers will jump at the chance to assist in some project or experience that will benefit these youngsters. I think the reasons behind this eagerness to help, is that volunteering to do something out of the ordinary enriches their own lives as well. Such was the case with our contingent in Juba.

There is a Sudanese woman here who is trying to help abandoned or lost, young girls get off the unforgiving streets of Sudan. The young girls being targeted for this project range between 7 and 14 years old. Her project is called the, “Confident Children out of Conflict” project and we heard about it because the Canadian government funded a small portion of the project through CIDA (Canadian International Development Agency) a few years back.

The project began with the hope of getting the youth and vulnerable youth off the streets, but this lofty ideal did not come to fruition and the project turned to the most vulnerable, helping get the young girls into a safe environment.

Four of us decided we wanted to know more and we went out to see the project. We learned that there is a lot of work to do and the contractor, who is working on the project, ran out of money well over a year ago.

The contractor believes in the project and he continues to fund some of the construction and infrastructure projects with his own money. So we asked if there was anything that we could do to help the project along.

The contractor advised us that he required two holes to be dug behind the building to accommodate the grey water run off from the future kitchen, shower and washroom areas. So, on a beautiful Saturday morning, we headed out to the future classroom/sleeping room and living accommodations for young girls, to see what we could do.

Sure enough, upon our arrival he handed us shovels and a pick ax (we should have suspected something right away when we saw the pick ax) and he showed where he required the holes to be excavated. Two people worked on a hole that had already been started and myself and another member began a new hole.

Well I believe I was on the only the second shovel full of rock and dirt when I realized that this was not going to be an easy or fun, task. The beautiful bright sunny Saturday quickly faded into an exhaustive exercise on how to survive the African heat minus the shade of the ever-present Mango tree. We needed to dig a hole big enough and deep enough for this project to be successful.

We dug through the morning and the deeper we dug, two things seem to happen. First, I swear I could hear the tendons and muscles in my back and shoulders swearing at me and telling me they would get even later (I figured this was the African heat playing tricks on me). Second, it seemed that the deeper we dug the cooler it became, as we were getting  deep enough to be out of the direct sunlight. So, to stay cool, we kept digging and digging and before I knew it I realized that I was in too deep. I could not get out of the hole I was in!

I actually need help in getting out of that pit! I started to laugh, as I was sure I was digging my own grave. My heart was pounding and heat exhaustion told me to lie down before I fell down.

I was just an aching, filthy, sweaty mess. Covered in dirt and soaked to the bone from internal moisture leaking out of every pore in my body. I looked at my hands and realized the dirt was darkened with a reddish color that came from the area where the skin was missing from many parts of my palms.

The Sudanese director of the project showed up and saw us and then saw the holes we had dug and she gave us the biggest smile I have yet to see in Africa! And I have seen a lot of smiles here.

It was at that moment we knew that we would keep involved with this project while we were in Sudan. We were in way too deep.

It is now two days later, the back pain is slowly subsiding and the skin has started to cover areas where it disappeared from my palms earlier. My body seems to be in recovery mode but the clothes that I was wearing sadly did not make it. I wouldn’t have it any other way!

Dan Jones

Juba, Sudan

South Sudan is nursing a headache after celebrating a very successful referendum where they voted overwhelmingly to separate from the North. The international community is very pleased with both the results of the referendum and how it played out on the global stage. Transparent, open and monitored to death. Well-done George Clooney!

So all this preparation has proved to be a huge success!  I guess planning really does work! Now they have to figure out what to do with the military! The military consists of soldiers from the North and militias from the south mixed together for a common cause. Now that the country has voted to split in July the decision (unplanned) was to send the troops back to their respective home countries (not yet official but you get the point). However, those who will be returning to the North from the South have no transportation to get there? They still have their weapons but no ride home. I am not sure I would want to pick them up as hitchhikers.

I get a knock on my door on the 11^th February from the UN Legal advisors office. He has a very official document outlining the movement of UN vehicles through some very unsettled country. This planned move will take place on the 12^th February (tomorrow)and I am asked to find someone who can notify the appropriate Government and Military officials so that this move goes unhindered. No problem let me see the document and I will find the right person for the job. He hands me the document with several signatures, official seals and stamps of approval all over it and it is obvious it came from high places.

I determine that the person we need to give this document to works next door to me so, please come with me Mr. Legal guy! I step outside my office and wouldn’t you know it! A baby, “Haboub” (please google Haboub) snatches the official document out of my hand and swirls it thirty feet into the air. Mr. Legal guy and I watch it until it reaches 60 feet in the air and then..whoooosh! It is gone. Never to be seen again!

Mr. Legal guy looks at me like a father looks at his young child after he gives the child their first helium filled balloon at the county fair and the kid lets go of it. All you can do is watch it disappear.  “Well” I said, “I sure hope you have another document cause that one is not coming back”.  I mean really, what else are you going to say? That was the ugly to my week!

Then a couple of days ago, my boss became the Interim Police Commissionaire for the entire Sudan Mission. Cool! He is suddenly summoned to New York, so yesterday he packs his clothes and then tells me what I need to do and that I need to attend a number of high profile meetings here in Juba, one of which started 15 minutes ago.

I grab my papers, glasses and pens and I hear him mumble something about his luggage as I scamper off to attend several meetings. He is on the plane and flies out of Juba at 5pm and my meetings finally come to an end around 6pm.

Well this is all good, so I get together with a couple of lads and we go out for supper that night. At 8pm my cell phone rings and it is my boss calling from Khartoum. “Daniel, where is my luggage?” he bellows. I start to think about his luggage and I can only come up with one response, “How the hell do I know!”

Not the right answer! Apparently I was supposed to check his luggage in at the airport so he did not have to carry it? It turns out his luggage is in the back of my vehicle and is still in Juba and there is no way he will get it now and he is not happy. Well, after I hung up (actually he hung up on me)and told my dinner companions about this unfortunate turn of events for the Commissionaire, someone makes the smart ass comment, “The Emperor has no Clothes!” Well, I laughed so hard I had tears running down my legs. That was the bad! I am sure I will pay for that one later.

Today, I had the honor of hosting the US Medal Parade along side the US State Department right here in Juba and it was truly a humbling experience. These fellows have been in Iraq and Afghanistan and are now in Sudan. All are ex-policemen from substantive and well disciplined US cities. Very professional.

It was simply by happenstance that I was able to host this event as my boss was in New York (likely shopping for new clothes) and the Deputy Police Commissionaire was stuck in the Northern part of Sudan and could not get down in time.

It was truly a special memory that I will cherish forever. This is what makes our time in mission worthwhile! That was the good and it makes the ugly and the bad seem trivial by comparison!

Life is good and I meet my lovely wife in Cape Town in 10 days so things will get even better. Once again, I thank you for all your e-mails. I may not get back to everyone in a timely manner but I assure you they are truly appreciated.

Dan Jones

UNMIS

Juba, Sudan

We left for a meeting early one morning. We had washed and fueled up our shiny new Toyota SUV and drove in to town. We parked our clean UN vehicle in a nice shady spot and went in for our meeting. One hour later when we returned, several entrepreneurial homeless rapscallions had washed our vehicle (with muddy water) and wanted to be paid. Not wanting to cause a scene and a couple of Sudanese pounds poorer and we were on our merry way watching the young entrepreneurial citizens of South Sudan continue to embrace their new found freedom by pouring dirty water on the next clean vehicle that had been parked beside us.

Once we arrived back at the office I checked my e-mail and found I had a new message from one of our contingent members. A female OPP Officer stationed in BOR. Her e-mail explained that she was quite honored as she had just been informed by the locals, that she would fetch up to 200 cows on the open market. I am not sure her husband would be quite as thrilled as she was but 200 cows is 200 cows!

Cattle here in Sudan are treated like gold and they are used for bartering to obtain goods and apparently future brides. Many of the tribal wars and violent slaughters that (unfortunately are still occurring) happen are due to cattle raids from different tribes who are all vying for more cattle and more grazing land.

Cattle means wealth to these folks and in some circles they can mean the difference between life and death and survival in the rugged outback savannas of Africa.  The taller the woman, the more cattle she is worth. Some women fetch up to 35-40 cows so to be worth 200 cows is really an accomplishment.

I sent a response to her e-mail and politely told her that 200 cows was a very good deal but personally I thought she was a little over priced. The computer systems must be slow here in Juba as I am still waiting for her response?

This morning I turned on the radio to the sound of a rooster crowing. You just cannot get away from the damn roosters! Then the announcer piped up and said, “Wake up JUBA!” (trying to sound like a Robin Williams “Good Morning Vietnam” spin-off) whereupon they launched in to some gang banger rap song that I am sure they have never listened to the words. Sigh, the clash of cultures continues.

What ever happened to good old time music by Buck Owens and the Buckaroos or Dianna Ross and the Supremes? I am not sure they would be embraced with the same zeal here in sunny Jubaville! 

Dan

I love the UN. It is full of great promise and everyone is so polite. I am sorry, we do not have a bed for you. I am sorry but you will have to carry your 6 bags around with you. I am sorry you will have to come back tomorrow. I am sorry there is no water. I am sorry your luggage is overweight. Oh and, “Welcome to Juba!”

Dusty, dirty, sweaty and tired we manage to wade through a bureaucratic web of incompetence and life is once again on an even keel. We get to share a trailer with six other Bangladeshi’s who have taken every piece of usable furniture in the place. All that being said, it is cozy and it is home for now. Our names are on a waiting list for more permanent accommodations and that should be in a mere 5 to 6 weeks, “In Shallah!”

No worries though, we have mosquito nets and the washroom (complete with shower) is only across to the other side of the compound. But the water is warm and clean (when available) and life is good.

I attended a meeting today with General Lt. Gordon who is the man in charge of the SSPS (South Sudan police Services). He is quite a character and he is one giant of a man. As we were conversing about allegations of SSPS human rights violations and how their training camp had recently been accused of (allegedly) raping women recruits, I began to notice a little dance going on as he was quite aloof and appeared a little elusive and non-committal with his answers with respect to any allegations of misconduct.  That being said, I believe he is really trying hard to make the new SSPS a success but he also realizes the challenges ahead.

I also believe that he is pleased the International community is here and is helping train his police service but understands the limitations, as many of his police are ex-military. They simply changed uniform when the war ended. When they were the military, they had very few restrictions on how they dealt with people. Now the world is here and George Clooney is watching and they are being taken to task over these very serious accusations. They include a number of recruits that may have died or disappeared during the previous training camp for new members. They are angry and upset that someone allowed the media come and talk with the recruits. It makes them look bad.

Being new to the mission and after the meeting I inquired about the conversation and was advised that this was the Dinka Dance being conducted in the meeting. Apparently General Gordon is from the Dinka Tribe in Southern Sudan and while they are known as cattle and livestock people, they are feared for their warrior style of fighting.  I guess that explains his huge stature both physically and politically.

I really like the man and I look forward to working with him over the next year. Once I get used to the Dinka Dance, I should be able to engage him in some serious conversations.

Come to think of it, I recall the Dinka Dance at some EOT meetings in Edmonton? I wonder if anyone in the executive rank is a Dinka? I will have to look in to that when I return.

 Dan