Daily life in Juba: the compound, Munuki etc.

Ita kwais?
(Are you well?)

Ana kwais. In Arabic, this means ‘I am fine.’ My vocabulary is slowly expanding, though I am seriously considering to sign up for lessons in Arabic when I get back to the Netherlands. Rukeyya, a friend of mine posted the following message on Facebook regarding a previous greeting I used:

‘Tut tut. Salaam Alaikum (Assalamualaikum - whichever you prefer) means "Peace be with you" not "hi". Those Sudanese are not doing a good job integrating you.’

What can I say? Juba Arabic is a mixture between Arabic and Bari (and the occasional Swahili thrown in just for the fun of it). It is street language, so any formal meaning tends to get lost in the translations.

This morning I went running for the first time here in Munuki. And I must say I feel quite proud of myself; the route to the Customs roundabout and back again is about five kilometers and I managed to complete it in a half hour while the temperature already was a steady 35C. During my run I realised I’ve never really posted a blog about daily life here at the compound or here in Munuki payam. Therefore, today a blog with pictures of the compound, the neighbourhood and other common things in Juba. Some of the pictures are older ones, taken before my camera got stolen, others are made with cameras of people here at the compound (seriously, everyone here is so nice, allowing me to borrow their camera).

Daily life means getting up between 6:30h and 7:00h, before the sun or the heat drive me out of bed. I leave for the office at 8:00h, to work on my thesis there or the interviews I’ve conducted the day before. The first few weeks I stayed here, I stayed at the office quite often, only venturing out of the compound to obtain my letters of recommendation and in the weekend to explore Juba. Nowadays I only enter the office briefly in the morning and I generally don’t get back until the late afternoon, doing fieldwork in the different payams of Juba County. Sometimes I don’t even come into the office in the morning, because I have to leave early for observations and Christopher can’t give me a ride to Customs. During the evening I try to go over my observations and save them on my computer, though after a day of interviewing I sometimes feel quite knackered. Those evenings are spend drawing, listening to music or watching a movie I downloaded before I left. The weekends of course, are reserved for exploring Juba, and the occasional dinner and dancing.

The ICCO compound is located almost right in the middle of Munuki payam, in an area called Hai Tarawa. Rosemary, the Office Manager, told me once that if I say I stay at the compound in Hai Tarawa with the large mango trees, everyone in Munuki will know where it is. The compound is spacious, made up of several large, bungalow-like houses and of course, three large mango trees that have been supplying me with breakfast for several weeks now. We are being guarded by Warrior, a local security company. Our guards consist of a couple of great guys and a lady, who are really fun to talk to or hang around with.

Last week, I had a conversation with Jamal about our compound, and the differences between housing in the Netherlands and Juba. Jamal asked me whether all houses in the Netherlands resemble the ones of our compound or the more luxurious dwellings of high ranked government officials here. How does one describe our ‘rijtjeshuizen’ or the grand, tall houses at the canals of Amsterdam, Utrecht or The Hague? I have to show him some pictures of Amsterdam or Utrecht some time.

Right now, I have an entire house to myself. Well, I do share it with the occasional lizard that manages to find its way in (I like to think I have my own pet lizard). I think that the house is some sixty square meters, and those meters include a bathroom, kitchen, living room and three bedrooms, of which one is a so-called ‘panic room’ I can hide in should there be a break-in at the compound. The first week I was here I thought the house might be a bit too large for just me, but now I feel quite at home, which can be contributed to the cluttering of my stuff in the different rooms I mostly make use of - my bedroom, living room and kitchen. The only thing I am missing is a huge cabinet filled with books and cd’s. I have to say, it’s easy to get used to so much space. My own apartment might even feel small to me when I move back in somewhere in July.

Since the group from VNG left to start the training programme, it has been rather quiet here. That was, until the pups of Onji started to run around. Onji is our dog, and, I know I am not very kind saying this, a scurfy mongrel that likes to beg for food or attention, and while she gets plenty of both, she sure doesn’t look like it. She would make the worst security dog ever; during a break-in she’d probably would look pitiful at the looters and then turn away as soon as she realises no food will be given. Her latest litter is about ten weeks, and since one-and-a-half week ago they’ve started venturing out in the compound. While they were rather shy at first, nowadays you have to be very careful where you place your feet, because before you know it you might step on one of them. Luckily, the pups look far more healthy than Onji does, but that’s because Yvonne feeds them (Onji doesn’t, the silly creature). Yvonne will be leaving for Kampala on Sunday, and somehow I’ve been chartered as new caretaker of the little monsters (spoken with affection, no worries, they are very cute).

Because I don’t officially work for ICCO, I am not always allowed to make use of the car. As a result, nowadays I mostly rely on Christopher to take me up to Customs, and from there I generally take a matatu to my final destination. The past week that has been Rajaf, where I’ve conducted some very interesting interviews, of which some will feature quite heavily in my final thesis I suspect. I’ve already posted some pictures of how a ride in a matatu generally looks like. The other means of public transport is the ‘boda boda’, the motorbikes that weave through the traffic like they’re on a suicide mission. I don’t take a boda very often, basically only when I’m offered a ride for free by government officials that live in the neighbourhood and can give me a lift to Customs or back to the compound. Most of the times, I walk from the compound up to Customs and back, because it keeps me in shape and it has made me quite popular with the neighbourhood. I officially have a couple of true fans now, three curious little buggers that tend to come running towards me every time I pass their house and start talking gibberish at me as soon as they reach me. They’re cute though. I am also a rather popular figure with the children at the waterhole I pass by every day.

In a previous blog, I’ve already mentioned I do most of my shopping at local stores here in the neighbourhood or at Konyo Konyo market. Three shops here are really a favorite of mine; the one right across our compound and one shop about fifty meters on the right. The one right in front of our compound opened up two weeks after I’ve got here. It is the place where I buy my batteries for my recording device (I’ve taken loads of AA batteries with me, but had forgotten my recording device works on AAA batteries only) and my weekly supply of toffee snacks (one of the reasons I like footing from and up to Customs, so I can continue eating my toffees). The shops on the right are where I buy my bread, tomatoes, eggs and mango juice. One of the shop owners is a friendly guy who keeps bribing me with these delicious bean snacks and cakes (those taste terrible, mind you). He’s afraid I’ll stop being his customer, despite repeated reassurances I will be doing my shopping at his place until I go back to the Netherlands.

A common occurrence here in Juba is the burning sun. Raining season just won’t start. Currently it only rains about three times a week. And while I do like sun, after five or six days of clear blue skies and 40C, a good rain storm during the day sounds wonderful. But most rainfalls happen during the evening or at night. At night, the raindrops falling on my roof are a very comforting sound. The few times it has rained during the day, it were short but heavy rain showers that soak you through the bone. A couple of times I even went to stand outside in the rain, feeling utterly refreshed. People here in the South think I am absolutely crazy every time I go out to stand in the rain, but I really love the feeling of the rain drops on my skin and the fresh smell that accompanies the rainfall. I’ve included some pictures of the most heavy rain storm thus far. At that time, I had just come back from interviewing and got stranded at Customs. That particular rain storm proved even too much for me, so I decided to wait it out along with an estimate of hundred other Sudanese people, huddled beneath the extended roofs of the small shops there. But whenever there is a good rain storm, or even just a small summer rainfall, I feel happy.

Considering the current hot weather, I think tomorrow is a good time for me to explore one of the other swimming pools here in Juba. Monday I can hopefully start interviewing in Juba Town, and do some extra interviews in Kator and Rajaf. Next week I’ll also try to post an update of my latest explorations, which will include a lovely visit to the family of Jamal today and sightseeing with Christopher last Sunday.

Love,

Anika


Ps. I’ve finally found decent map of Juba (for those who are curious about the locations of different places I’ve visited:
http://www.unsudanig.org/library/mapcatalogue/south/data/health/SS_0195_Juba_Town_And_Surrounding_health_Facilities_100507_A3.pdf