Juba Rocks

Well, we are now five days in Southern Sudan. The Entry permit was easy enough but we did have to leave some books in a lockup in Nairobi for collection at a later date. Anyone passing through....? The flight was smooth and it was only when we climbed down the aeroplane steps that the scolding dry heat of Sudan hit us. We strolled across the runway filled with UN planes and a collection of military helicopters and into arrivals. A tractor arrived with the luggage which was unloaded on the floor of the arrivals room and all bags were checked by customs and signed in chalk. Passports were stamped and we wandered back out into the heat. We had arrived in the Heart of Africa.

Met by Louis, Charles and Joseph, three doctors from the hospital, we were whisked to the hospital for some brief introductions, and then onto our camp. Now this place is nice. By the Nile with good food but perpetually loud music playing dawn until 1am daily. Are we getting old? The photo above is a misty morning view of the White Nile. Yes, that is a half sunk ship on the left.
Then there came the tour of the hospital. We will write more about the hospital later, when we have had more of a chance to see what is going on, but it was certainly busy and everyone was very friendly.


Friday night was spent cruising on the back of two motorbikes to the house of some ex-pats here, Sarah and Charlie, for some drinks. Saturday was spent preparing talks for the hospital. We strolled into the surrounds to get a feel for the place on Thursday evening. The first thing to notice was that people were very friendly. 'Morning' was chirped from young and old, accompanied by a smile. It was 6pm. What was striking was the poverty. Many displaced people who moved into the city years ago during the 4 decades of civil war now live in small camps on any available bit of government land in tiny huts lined with card board and empty food sacks. It is heart-breaking stuff, especially to be greeted with a cheery 'morning' from a tiny child poking there head round the corner of a burnt-out car.
Saturday evening rocked. Literally. Charles, one of the doctors mentioned before picked us up and drove us across to the far western reaches of the town. Here we picked up his childhood buddy Father Joseph and headed down the worst road I have ever seen to 'Rock City', a bar next to the stone works used to grind rubble for surfacing roads. It appears the irony is not lost on anyone. Here we sipped lager and listened to a live Congolese band play Congo rhumba- and even a rendition of 'Hero' by Enrique (that's right Tarry). What type of lager I pretend to hear you ask? I sampled Southern Sudan's only locally brewed beer- 'White Bull'. It seems that no-one here likes it, or drinks it, and the waitress even tried to save me by bringing a 'Redbull' instead, but this was sent back and the real thing sampled. And you know what- it aint dreadful. The others enjoyed a Kenyan 'Tusker'.
Sunday came with Charles banging on our door to take us to church. We were visiting the church in the part of town where he grew up. The service was in a mixture of his local tribal language, Juba Arabic and a little English (probably for our benefit). The singing and music was AMAZING, with beautiful female voices backed by booming male baritones and ululating women in the back. I didn't understand a word but it was stunning. As you can see, I got to try the local instruments afterwards.
Well, work will start in earnest tomorrow and we leave you with some anticipation and lots of excitement. Here we go.......