Mapel, the shortfall of health services and the position of women 

I travelled to Mapel to work on my research, where I visited the local health facility. While waiting for members of a committee (who never came ...) I decided to conduct some interviews with the people who were waiting to get treatment. Doing this kind of research always holds the risk of not reaching to the most marginalized people, and finding people in a clinic which is a centre to many rural villages was a great opportunity to talk to those people. Moreover, on that day I had a female translator, which allows me to talk to women more freely, as often they don’t feel comfortable to share their real thoughts in front of a man.

I know of course that in this particular culture women marry young, man have multiple wives, and generally women are viewed as lesser to man and their ability to influence and stand up for themselves is little. I just didn’t know how little, and how it is so dominant in every aspect of their life. During the interviews with the women I realized that they are suppressed and extremely subdued, the women themselves don’t believe they are worth anything. The phrase ‘it is to my husband to decide’ kept repeating itself together with ‘I only have my role at the house’. Feminist me wanted shake those women and tell them that they matter, but when I started this research I decided that I will put my beliefs and way of life aside so I can learn about people’s life here without presumptions and judgment, so I kept quiet.

But I couldn’t let go when I saw the sick women with their children being ignored at the clinic. I saw the women waiting for hours without even being acknowledged.  Of course there are a lot of problems with health services in the country. The health facility is a simple building with poor equipment, there are no real doctors or nurses, but people who are called a ‘health worker’, which are people that in most cases didn’t even complete more than primary school and simply got a few month of training. In addition they are paid very little which affects their motivation to work.

But here is what shocked me the most, the women waiting did not say a word, none of them came up to ask when she would be seen, even when they saw the health worker just hanging there, blatantly ignoring them. In the end of my interview I asked the lady how long she is waiting and she said 6 hours. How could it be that she is sitting there for 6 hours and being ignored and don’t say anything? So I decided to speak for her, I found the health worker and brought him to her. I don’t think he was ever been ‘told off’ by a women, he was a bit angry but I didn’t care. I wanted to show her that women can also have a voice.

But it wasn’t over. In the end of the second interview the women told me the same thing, she waiting since morning. Her 9 year old daughter needed treatment, she had some sort of surgery on her leg and her bandages needed to be replaced. But the health workers were nowhere to be seen. I decided I can do it myself so I went in the clinic to get some bandages, got the first aid kit from the car and open her bandages. It was horrible. Her wound was badly infected. This girl needed antibiotics. My translator desperately tried to explain the parents that they can’t leave because the new bandages were not enough and she should get further treatment. Finally we found some health worker to inject her some antibiotics and the family left.

As for me, it is hard for me to understand why the health workers don’t treat their patients, why the women don’t stand up for themselves and why a society doesn’t seem to respect those who play such an important role in everyday life.

Dinka Cultural Night - A picture worth a 1000 words  

  the Dinka Scars 

                                                              

Wau and the South Sudanese Culture

The city of Wau is located in the North West of South Sudan, on the western bank of the Jur River. During the years of the conflict the city served as a base for the Khartoum armed forces. The city has always been culturally, ethnically, religiously and linguistically diverse. In the last year, since the independence, the city has changed quite a bit; many people from the Arab North have left while many South Sudanese from different tribes returned. A large part of the population here belongs to the Dinka ethnic group, which is the largest and most dominant tribe in South Sudan. They are easy to spot because, often they have large scares on their faces. Some have 6 lines on each side of their forehead; some have 6 or even 12 scares in a shape of kind of rings going all around their head. Women usually have dots or stripes on their cheeks and lines on their chest. I noticed it first on the man who served me food in a local restaurant, and then I started to realize it is common when I saw it on both young boys and older man all over the city. Unable to resist my curiosity I decided to risk the possibility of upsetting cultural sensitivity and asked. Luckily, it went well and the person was happy to answer. The scares are a part of a ritual that transforms you from a child to a man. It usually also accompanied with the removal of two of your front bottom teeth. The scars and the removal of the teeth symbolize braveness and maturity, men usually do it around their teenage years and if they haven’t done it they will be often viewed as a child. I’ve been told that if men don’t have the scars and his teeth haven’t been pulled out he will often find it harder to find a wife.

It is amazing for me to find out about the local culture, attitudes and perception, the story of the ‘Dinka Scars’ is just a small part in a complex, multilayered society. Alongside that ‘inside’ culture I also learned that there are powerful perceptions that stand in relations to the 'others'.

 On my first day in the city I decided to go for a little walk around. I guess people are not used to see a foreign girl walking around by herself, especially in that part of town. The people stopped to greet me, saying ‘how are you?’ or more often ‘whats up?’ and laugh, while the kids simply starred at me. I felt a bit awkward to be the center of attention, but I guess here it is only natural that I will stand out. At some point of my little walk two boys approached me, they were really nice and they simply said that they want to talk to me. They asked about me about myself and what I do here and told me that they recently returned after living in Uganda in the last years because of the war and that they are now studying economics at the University of Wau. They were very proud to be in South Sudan and very proud to be Dinka. They said that in Uganda they have often been mocked because of their dark skin compared to the Ugandans. I was surprised by this new insight, but much more surprised with what they told me next. Noticing my discomfort by the starring passerby’s, they said I should be proud, that people here look up to the white man. That I shouldn’t worry because ‘if you are white you are better’. I was puzzled, for me we are all people I said. They responded that this is the mentality of the African man, always looking down at himself, believing he is less worthy.  It got stack in my head and I have to wonder if we did this to them? Suppressing them for decades and decades until they believed in this twisted hierarchy themselves?

The day I did the journey from Juba to Wau was one of those days that feel like a lifetime. I left Juba in the morning and by the evening when I arrived something in me was different.

Due the bad roads in the country and because Wau airport was closed I had to take 2 UN humanitarian aid planes and then travel for two hours by car. The second plane took me from Rumback and to Kwajok, which was basically nowhere. The runway was a dirt road between the trees, with not a single building in site.

But what really burned in my mind is the road from Kwajok to Wau.

The night before, I went for dinner with a couple of people that have spent quite sometime in the region. They told me that Africa ages you, makes you old. I wasn’t sure what they meant. I think I do now. The way to Wau was one long bumpy road. On the sides some tukules, which are huts made of mud and straw. Women were carrying piles on their heads and naked children were playing. As we approached an area that was more populated we slowed down and I realized the cruel reality some people live in. in front of the car a young women was trying to cross the road, but she was almost laying down on the ground, at first I didn’t realize what she is trying to do to but then I saw it. She was handicapped, one of her legs was completely deformed and the other seemed to not be functioning so she put her shoes on her hands and crawled down the street.

But even this didn’t prepare me for what I saw next. Just before entering the city of Wau, was just laying there, in the middle of the road, a dead man. I don’t know what happened to him or how long he was there, I just know that no one seemed to care. The cars drove around him and the people kept walking.

I know that if I want to be here I should grow a tougher skin. But the truth is that I hope it will never happen. Because the day I will become oblivious and indifferent to the suffering of the vulnerable, will be the day I will completely lose myself.

As the plane began to land, I pressed my face against the window with excitement. All my worries have now turned into anticipation. What was revealed in front of me was far from what I could have imagined. Between the trees and grass, I could see canals of the River Nile, modern buildings and straw huts side by side.

The Juba airport was definitely an experience. It is by no means similar to any airport I’ve ever been to. The entire airport is one small, overcrowded room, with powerful smells of urine and sweat floating in the air. All in the same arrivals hall, you queue to buy a visa, pick up your luggage from the floor in the corner, and have officers check your bags just before passport control – basically, a man standing at the door who glances at passports.

Driving out of the airport I was fascinated, trying to take it all in. Juba is the capital and largest city of the Republic of South Sudan. Before the war it used to be a transportation hub connection Kenya, Uganda and DRC. Distraction and neglect changed it completely; today there aren’t really roads in Juba. Some of the main roads are paved but most are just, well, a dirt path full of holes and ditches, with a few big track tires used as roundabouts.

On the two sides of the street there are old, rundown buildings or improvised shads. The nicer buildings belong to the many international NGO and agencies operating in Juba, they are easy to recognize by the heavy security around them, including wired fence and guards.

There are many small shops, and remarkably a large number of hair salons, which made me reach the conclusion that hairstyle must be quite important around here! The streets are busy, and between the dogs, rats and burning rubbish, most people seem to go about their daily lives by cooking and socializing outdoors.

I don’t think I can quite explain how it is like. It guess different will be an appropriate word. Also, I can’t really pin point why, but surprisingly, I like it a lot. I am wondering though if Juba is by far the most developed city in South Sudan how does the rest of the country look like…  I can’t wait to go to Wau.

Decades of violent conflict in the Sudan region between the North and the South have resulted in two million dead, many more displaced, a population that is dependent on foreign aid for their survival and a militarized, fractured society. Emerging from the conflict, the new state of South Sudan is confronted with myriad of challenges, including high level of poverty and unemployment, inadequate government capacity, an almost exclusive dependence on income from oil, and countless other issues arising from high diversity of ethnicities, resulting in social and political exclusion.

Sounds fascinating, right? So I decided to go there. It was a good decision. I think. It is kind of hard to judge when your thoughts are running in 100,000 miles an hour. I would like to say it is excitement overtaking me, but I’m pretty sure a more accurate word would be anxiety...

So here I am. In the next 3 months I will be living in South Sudan. Starting in Juba, the capital city, but most of the time I will be based in Wau, the capital of Western Bahr el Ghazal state, where I will do research on local governance accountability regarding the provision of basic service delivery. I am very excited about my research, as it is people focused, centering on community engagement. Public participation is a key aspect of development, it is the foundation of good governance, ensuring the prominence of the local population in the process of state building and development. In the course of the research I will travel around Western Bahr el Ghazal and get the chance to talk to people from different communities and backgrounds, as well as international workers and local government officials.

I hope that I will know how to make the most out of it. I have an amazing opportunity to learn about  peoples’ lives, viewpoints and ideas and I want to be open-minded towards everything and everyone this journey will bring.