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I have a friend living in Darfur who’s had one of those eye widening, wait, say again, damn, girl experiences over the course of her stay. During her time in the desert, she’s developed a resume for the record books. I’ve written in previous posts about the types of girls that come to Darfur, mostly playing the stereotypes in my descriptions. Of course, you find folks with combinations of traits that cross these defined borders, and to many extents, she does as well. But there is a clear stereotype in this aspect of her experience, and I think it’s worthy of a solid tribute post.

When you think about coming to a place like this, there are a few initial concerns that jump to mind. Is it safe? What are the living conditions? What is the food like? And then, the given, What kind of exposure to sickness will you face, and how will you handle it? I’m sure every mother (and sane person) thinks coming to a place like this exposes yourself to unnecessary risks, be it health or danger, and so why do it? Most people here face down those worries, carry an even keel about them, and balance the good with the bad in this regard. Some are lucky and dodge it altogether. I’ve been fortunate with regard to my health and exposure to problems during my time here.

My friend, on the other hand, has had Murphy’s Law waiting for her around every corner. If something (relatively impermanent) can go wrong with regards to her health and safety, it has. I think of it as a cross between The Naked Gun, There’s something about Mary, and Out of Africa. Her story has subtle humor that’s grown exponentially throughout the year. I’m just glad we can sit down and laugh about it. She leaves shortly so, inshallah, nothing more will occur. But for the sake of this tribute post, let’s get to business:

One – She arrived into theater during the April timeframe of last year when the summer’s heat was already in full force. During her first week here, while on a tour with management, she developed a case of heat stroke and promptly fainted on her way to the chopper in between site visits.

Two – During the rehydration period and several days rest at the site, she developed a sinus infection that set her back another two days, one of many that would frustrate her equilibrium over the course of her year.

Couldn’t be an omen…

Three – Shortly there after, a seasonal bug pops into play called the Nairobi Fly, also known as the Acid Fly. If this red and black fly lands on your skin and you swat it dead, an acid like substance secretes from its body and causes severe burns in that location. If it stays on your hands and you touch another part of your body it spreads. The irony is that she had just published a notification to all personnel to watch out for this fly, to include measures to take in case you came in contact. Not that very night while sleeping, a Nairobi fly crawled on her arm. She accidentally squished it when closing her arm at the elbow, unbeknownst to her. The fly’s acid not only burned an inch radius circle on her inner forearm, but did on her bicep as well. The mirror image burns took almost a month to heal.

Four – To add to the legacy, while driving at the market, she became the damsel in distress when in the middle of flocks of people, got the vehicle stuck in a mud hole from the rains. She developed quite the audience when the AU Force Protection had to come and tow her out.

Five – In the kitchen of one of our houses, we utilize propane cooking gas in the stoves. Several months ago while baking, the flame went out in the oven. When she returned with a match and bent over to relight the flame, an explosion from the built up gas inside the oven soared out and singed all facial hair (including eyebrows) and an unsolicited portion of head hair. A shocking haircut – yes. The damage – fortunately, only surface.

Six – Back in December, many of the personnel were evacuated to a neighboring site during a security threat. While waiting the several days for the situation to calm, she went into the local town’s market to see about getting portions of her body waxed. Aside from the fact that it’s a risky endeavor in a first world, this could be deemed an adventure from the idea’s inception. As it was, we jump to the portion of the story where Nair has covered some of her arms and face in the town’s ‘hair removal facility’. As the time came to wash the substance off, a critical ingredient to the process went missing….Water. The water well went dry and there was no way to wash off. By the time she returned to the camp where water could be found, it was already too late and 2^nd degree burns had occurred. The medics at our site covered up the burns and put…(cringe at my least favorite word) ointment….on burnt areas and wrapped up. In the end she looked like mummy.

We thought, wait wait wait…isn’t the only safe way we know to remove hair in Darfur with cooking gas??

Seven – She had to fly to Khartoum to get further treatment to ensure no scaring. And wouldn’t you know it, while in Khartoum, a tooth of hers cracked down the middle.

Eight – If that wasn’t enough, she decided to get some rest at a hotel while in Khartoum. While shopping at the local store around the corner, a man began to follow her, ultimately checking into a room next door to her (one of the known methods of danger to avoid). She barricaded her hotel room door with available furniture and waited it out until she could get to the dentist the following afternoon. Beforehand, she met with a man who recommended this particular dentist as the credible and best dentist in Khartoum. As he was drinking his coffee, the tooth that the dentist had just worked on fell out into his coffee in front of her. Needless to say, she caught the next flight to Nairobi to see a dentist she felt more comfortable with.

Nine – On her latest vacation, she visited the island of Mauritius. She had pushed her vacation back and spent seven months working strong without a break (we normally go four). During her stay in the hotel, she had two panic attacks. Initially she thought it was an allergic reaction to the fish. After the second, which involved no fish, she saw a doctor who claimed it was related to built up stress of working non-stop for seven months.

Ten – On her way back to Sudan, she flew through Dubai. It must be that equilibrium thing, because on the way to transfer her luggage at the carousel in Dubai, she “lost her lunch” in public and the airport doctor deemed her too sick to fly.

Now one would initially think, wow, either she is prone for problems or has extremely bad luck. Who knows? I do give her credit because she’s a globetrotter, despite the continual challenges she faces, and sticks out her commitments. I initially classed her into the “city girl meets the wild” stereotype when she came out. But despite all the pain and frustration she’s gone through, where someone might be unlucky to face one or two of the ten problems we’ve identified since arriving in Darfur, she’s kept her head high and maintains herself well in this ‘man’s environment’. For that, she gets the Darfur Diploma with Honors upon her departure.

I recently read the AMIS monthly newsletter. Now I haven’t read too many military newsletters before so I don’t have a solid basis of comparison, but one would think it would be an official voice of the mission, providing basic situational overview and points of interest for its troops, staff, and community. This one did provide some of these characteristics in its articles, like the status of UN support to the mission and various goodwill photos. There were several health articles to remind the troops, like the importance of a good breakfast, which I understood the relevance, and also an article about a particular heart disease, which I didn’t really catch the significance with the audience being mostly healthy soldiers.

But this newsletter also had an element which I found minorly troublesome. The article which really brought a puzzled smile discussed the ultimate solution to bringing peace to Darfur. Yes the AU has found an answer to the utterly hopeless problems of Darfur, and they are proudly encouraging all personnel and supporting cast to participate.

The solution: Love. Yes Love.

It’s all laid out in an article titled, “Love – The Only Way Forward For the Return of Peace in Darfur”. Let me just recap some of the highlights:

Since the creation of man, love has been the greatest of all weapons for peace existence even in the animal kingdom. Without love, peace existence in any environment is in jeopardy.

But the question now is, has the peace been achieved in Darfur? The answer in simple “no”, because the derivative of peace which is love has not been put into consideration. As an accelerator towards achieving peace, the Government of Sudan, her citizens, friends and well wishers should embrace love as a means towards achieving peace in this region. Once love is in existence in any environment, things like ethnic discrimination, marginalization, agitation, murder, rape, fear, and hatred will be totally eradicated from Darfur, paving the way for peace.

If animals of the same species embrace love as a means of living in peace why not humans beings, who are created to be more sensible than animals?

Granted, the article suggests the best tangible way to spread love is through spiritual leader’s involvement in the process. But I would think the actions say otherwise. Several months ago I attended a party the current Force Commander had at his residence. In his welcoming speech, I distinctly remember him say, “You are always welcome at my house, especially the ladies”. I also heard him say, “The two things which make good troops, happy troops are booze and women. I will not deny my men these two while here in Sudan.” (Despite the fact that both are illegal) One would instantly tell by the little residence that popped up outside of the main camp, where you could routinely see local women standing outside while plain-clothed soldiers meandered in and out on timed intervals.

So maybe there’s a hidden meaning in this article, an inside joke. I would hope the leadership in the AU didn’t condone this type of leftist flower peace talk as a practical means towards a real solution. It sure doesn’t sound very military to me. Or maybe there’s a sickly undertone as an end all solution – Love here equals AIDS.

Either way, it’s a reflection of African Solutions to African Problems, the AU’s motto. I just shake my head.

I’ve found that I’m becoming numb out here. I don’t know, maybe it’s the bleakness beige of the environment, maybe it’s the continual routine, most likely it’s the fact that I’m pushing a year and a half in the desert.

I go for runs in the afternoon and salute soldiers and rebels alike along my jog. When I stop at the “neighborhood store”, I shrug off the begging children’s relentless plea – “sadik, give me one hundred dinars” (50cents), throwing them a quick “Allah Caream” – God will Provide, or “Amshu Madressa”, Go to School.

In the evenings I’ve battled through books, some interesting, some time killers, and through movies and pirated TV series. I’m happy that I still appreciate music’s ability to alter my moods. I’ve picked up weekly Thursday night poker games, with successful results, this time with fresh faces, stern in their resolve, but unseasoned to the desert play.

Life in this place has become constant, a slow and relentless evolution, minor changes, like the reshaping of a sand dune from the afternoon breeze, with no significant differences.

Nothing here seems to surprise me anymore. The great diversity of our presence alongside the locals has become a norm, and we work together battling the days’ challenges with typical resolve, doing the best we can. We keep a firm battle cry to improve a little each day, but accept the fact that some days all we do is work backwards.

People on my contract and the Westerners in Sudan have been through their rotations, and I’m continually seeing fresh faces that are quietly absorbing their new assignments. The radio, once a form of entertainment, is now bleak background noise. Those individuals which I knew so well, largely bordering the short lived thin line, creating a lively buzz as they went, have mostly now gone.

I would say this project is in the middle of a transitional phase. The AU has grand plans to double the size of the mission with the help of the UN, but is so financially insecure they are three months behind in their troop’s pay.

My official last day is May 7^th. I have six weeks left and at this point, my anticipation, a profound motivator in my world, lies outside of Sudan. I still have a lot to accomplish before departure and that keeps me going during the day, but in the evenings my mind wanders to greener pastures.

I think that such is the life of a contract. Its early stages are accompanied with excitement from the relentless challenge of creating something meaningful and professional. It’s compounded with the complexity and uncertainty of the environment. Over time, results and control are achieved and the project plateaus. I’ve worked on this project in DC and here for an accumulative three years and I’m at that plateau now, ready for a new challenge.

I’ve been in Sudan almost 16 months and I can’t believe I didn’t recognize one defining feature of all Sudanese men until now. They all have facial hair. I finally asked our locals, all who sport some form of mustache, what’s that about? I was told a mustache is a sign of toughness. Sudanese without mustaches are not manly; they are not men. (Dare I say a cheaper version of a sportscar!) Let’s take a few examples:

Sudan President Bashir

SLA Rebel Leader Minni Minnawi

Janjaweed Militia

GOS Military Rep

Nyala Police Commander

Nyala Wadi (Mayor)

GOS Military commander

Sudanese Foreign Minister

GOS Soldier

JEM Rebel Rep

SLA Rep

GOS Colonel

Zalinje Military Commander

Everyone has a mustache. (If you can believe it, where did this social norm originate from? British Colonization – that makes me smirk, the statement that it makes, knowing it’s just another side effect, minor as it is.)

Yesterday one of our local staff had his village burned down by the Janjaweed right outside of town. We took a collection for his family. Yesterday one of the GOS military Antonov aircraft filled up to the brim with bombs wanted to take off to head out on a run and they didn’t have enough fuel. The African Union stood by watching. The GOS came over and demanded that the AU give them fuel to take off. The AU rightfully refused, knowing the obvious intention of the mission. The GOS in consequence cut off all of our access to the airport. It took all day in negotiations to allow the AU flights to commence. “Facilitation fees” were demanded by the GOS, verbally, not in writing, mind you. That portion is still in negotiations.

Just more examples of what’s taking place on a regular basis. Countries are continually trying to put pressure on Sudan to act, freezing bank accounts, sanctions, naming individuals up for war crimes at the ICC, all to no avail. Maybe it would be a stronger statement if they forced all the leaders to shave their mustaches.

That would be the day for Sudan, accepting this ultimatum as a statement by showing some humility, shaving away a tainted reflection of both aged and recent history, and smoothly moving forward with a fresh look and healthier agenda!

One of the interesting things about working in Africa is understanding how the common folks live and to what effect outside intervention has had on this continent. When I walk through the markets and see a mix of 16th to 21st century livelihood, or when I work with the locals who seem to embody uneducated simplicity and resistance of change, I cant help but wonder if outside exposure is positive or negative to the people whose cultures have had permanence century after century.

At some of our sites, when we first put up lights, locals were crowded around the camps at night, staring at the brightness, in awe and trying to figure out what was this new illuminating creation. Many were never exposed to electricity.

When we put water taps in our camps, we had to teach many of our local staff exactly how to turn them on and off. They’ve always carted water from a hand-pumped well on donkey-pulled water barrels, washing in bowls and drinking by scooping from the bowl.

At our camps, we provide silverware (forks, knives, spoons) to the African troops to eat. Many of them still only use a spoon to scoop the food. In their home countries and villages, they’ve never learned to eat with a fork and knife.

Across the continent of Africa, people have been doing things the same way for so many years, generations, and centuries, living life the same simple and proven way from time on end. It’s what they know and it works.

The Sudanese culture is a yes culture. If you ask a question to a local, you’ll never hear a ‘No’ in response. If they don’t understand you, a nod or term of agreement will still come out of their mouth because saying ‘No, I don’t understand’ is considered demeaning and disgraceful to the individual. The motto here seems to be, ‘Live simply, live proud, and don’t question things’ as that’s a vulnerability and sign of imperfection.

So learning, changing, and adapting by questioning the problems they face rarely occurs. Teaching new methods just doesn’t happen. It’s very frustrating when you compare it to the western mindset and makes conducting business very difficult. I think this mindset is similar in most countries on this continent.

Since outside intervention has graced Africa, from Dutch to British to American to Chinese and on over the last couple of centuries, a new way of life has been pushed on these societies. Forever they have known and lived in one way and this new exposure has dramatically affected the continent. The question to ask, Is this exposure right for these people? Are we really acting in their best interests? (Or even better, Do we even care if we can achieve results in our favor?)

I think there’s an innate desire in all developed people to try to help or teach the lesser developed and lesser educated societies into adapting your own ways and means. You’ve been successful, why can’t they with a little assistance? Maybe it’s also a parental desire to help that drives us. But is our view best for these folks? Is it what they want?

The tribes which have survived for centuries have done something right. It may not be developed in the concept that we as westerners think. But they’ve survived, and lived life to a degree which they find content and constant.

And so in a perfect world, Africa would live peacefully, off the land and in basic market commerce. If a man needs a knife, he goes to the market and the blacksmith beats him a knife with a hammer. If it needs sharpening, he goes back and the blacksmith sharpens it. Now on the markets you find cheaper Chinese knives that are ultimately dwindling the local blacksmith’s trade.

This happens in commerce, and in America it was successful, like Darwin, in that the fittest survived. But it was created in a market place where the mindset was known from day one. America is the place of opportunity and if you go, get ready to compete.

Here, the unchanging, uncommercial mindset is centuries etched in stone. But outside commerce has been introduced, along with money, technological advances, weapons, and on and on. What has resulted? A struggle to survive but without the basic willingness to adapt, change, and improve that’s held by Westerners.

And so greed and corruption by the few overwhelms the masses. Warlords and warfare are a result. Uneducated are manipulated and soon what were once basic tribal conflicts are now mass annihilations. One thing’s for certain, the warlords make their keep off exploiting the local struggle of accepting the introduction of new Western methods vs older tribal lifestyle that’s been solidified from generation to generation. Wars in similar fashion have occurred within almost every nation on this continent.

The terrible irony is that we can’t back out because our standards won’t accept the modern day poverty and warfare that plagues this continent. But our intervention directly affects the warlords. They’re tasting too much power and making too much money off the industry that we’ve created, the peacekeeping, aid giving, and commercial imbalance that now drives their markets. Their power is created by this exploitation, resulting in local wars that quickly become dependant on our support.

So are the modern day struggles of Africa a direct result of developed nations’ imperialistic foreign policies toward this continent over the last century? I have to say to a large extent, yes.

Sure there would still be tribal fighting and conflicts if these lands never saw the white man. But I can’t imagine it would reach the scale we’ve seen in the last 30 years, not to mention the resulting poverty from the wars and dependence on outside food and aid.

Africa has been tagged as a resource-filled continent, geographically strategic (in some senses) and full of money making industries. It would be impossible to ‘take it back’ or to back out entirely, but sometimes I think about the difference it would make over time if we did. Can people who have lived in the same mindset for centuries revert back to their proven ways once they’ve been exposed to a more developed society? I don’t think it’s in human nature to do so. But it’s a shame that it will take years, probably generations to cultivate this place into the civil society outsiders hold true. Because of the simple and unfaltering manner that many Africans have passed down forever, the struggles will continue during the long and painful evolution from the African tribal way of life to the modern world.