The Field, Part 4: Surprises

One of the other things I’ve been able to experience while in the field is something that keeps us on our toes and reminds us of just what kind of place we’re living in: a lovely little thing called insecurity. On my first field visit, there was a vehicle ambush on a road outside of the town, about 4 hours after I had passed along the same road. Apparently, it was an act of revenge over a boy that was murdered and found in the river the week before. In response, two men were arrested by the Southern Army, and in response to that, two men on camels were found getting weapons from the Northern Army barracks, and were thus detained. This was followed by rampant rumours that their friends would soon be coming to attack the town. Nice. We got some extra security for our place and slept lightly that night. Oh dear…are my grandmas reading this? The end of the story is that nothing came of it and I’m fine.

On my second trip (a different place), there was this wing-nut former military commander who took it upon himself to be the watch dog of all health services in the area. Prior to my arrival, he had been raising a raucous, saying that our organization hasn’t been providing services, were neglecting people during a cholera outbreak, and accused our staff of being murderers, responsible for deaths in the community. While I was there, he marched into the compound demanding a home visit for his wife who he was sure had cholera, and making all sorts of loud accusations and claims, making our staff feel very uncomfortable. That night, at 1 am, a woman giving birth was brought to the clinic. Our staff were called in due to complications and who should happen to be there (in the middle of the night, for the delivery of some woman completely unrelated to him), but the crazy commander. Very disconcerting for our staff as they tried to cope with a very difficult delivery. It turns out the baby could not be delivered, and the only hope for the mother and child was surgery, which cannot be done at our clinic. Without transport or enough time to get her to a hospital, there was nothing our staff could do for her. In the morning, the crazy commander made a terrible fuss about the situation, and in the end, the local authorities decided that a local “doctor” would be called in. This man proceeded to remove the now dead baby from its mother in pieces, using the crudest of tools and the crudest of technique. I won’t repeat any of the details. Amazingly, the woman lived, though we expected her to suffer from serious infection, if not from severe internal damage (I never did hear the end of the story). The next day, as our staff were contemplating whether it was safe for us to stay in the area with the threats of the crazy commander, a UN flight dropped in, and removed the threat himself. Apparently, they had some discussion with his superiors in Juba, and he wasn’t even supposed to be in this location anymore as he was re-assigned. Our staff were visibly relieved.

On this trip, all is calm thus far, though they had issues last week with a drunken wife-beater abusing one of the camp cooks and threatening the safety of the camp.

We’re in an area inhabited by cattle-keeping warrior tribes, and everyone has a spear if not a gun. The day before yesterday, I saw groups of long-legged, spear wielding young men with funny hats, leaping, running and singing on the road past our compound. Our staff tell me they’re off to war with another clan. There are long traditions of who fights with who here. If it’s not civil war and the South is fighting the North, then its inter-tribal warfare, and most likely the Nuer and Dinka raiding one-another’s cattle (back and forth and back again). And if that activity is quiet, then you turn within your tribe and war with other clans. Makes good sense right? Sigh….Sudan. A little love, a little forgiveness…is there hope? We cling to it.