By: Susan Burgess Lent, Darfur Peace

Saturday, 12/19/09 – Kassab Camp, North Darfur

Discussion with women about training programs:  literacy, solar cooking, women’s health, midwife training. They are like flowering plants hungry for water. So many details to address, supply issues to resolve.

Then a tour of the abandoned IRC compound next door to ours. Two large semi-permanent buildings in need of new roofs and rehabilitated interior spaces. Two excellent locking tin sheds for storage; need new guard room, kitchen and latrine, The perimeter of most compounds, including ours, is lined with a barrier of thorny branches to discourage trespass; these need to be replenished. New paint for the doors. New exterior sign. The ladies want a flower and vegetable garden. They want to name the center Ein Al-Shams (Eye of the Sun). Huda tells me the name is even more poetic in Arabic. The whole walk-through was like buying a fixer-upper and imagining the results when all of the dreamy ideas are put into play.

Ibrahim tells me that during a recent election of the area commissioner (mayor), the voters resoundingly elected an independent candidate – that is, not a government operative. He was promptly poisoned and replaced by a pro-government guy.

I note that young girls (8 – 10 years) are the de facto babysitters while their moms work. They expertly carry infants and toddlers around on their back or hips, taking walks to settle their fussy siblings who are often dressed in multiple layers of clothes and a hat. I have yet to see a child under 3 that did not have a runny nose.

Luggage arrived late in the afternoon, along with other cargo for the Center. I lost a bet with Huda about the arrival time by just 5 minutes.  She wants a large chocolate bar when we get back to Khartoum. We are thrilled to have a change of familiar clothing.

I spiked a fever today. The base nurse did a malaria test (negative) and gave me some decongestants for my miserable head.

Sunday, 12/20/09 – Kassab Camp, North Darfur

Today was payday for the weavers and we had a full house at the Center. Nearly 10% of the women have infants. Huda and I have been speculating about the high fertility rates in IDP camps. These places are no way conducive to romantic liaisons – at least not in the comfortable Western sense. My thought is that many women simply submit to sex –and there is also rape. The likelihood of their child surviving past 5 is poor.  However, they are doting moms.

The UNAMID peacekeepers here are mostly English speaking. There is little evidence that the organization places value on facility with the local language, or on foot patrols, or on any sort of fresh food – despite the abundance of produce in the local market.

Invariably when we drive through Kutum and the camp, children race out to see the hawalja. I haven’t seen a mirror for more than a week, so perhaps something of particular interest has developed in my appearance (beside my white hair). In any event, they call out “hawalja, OK” giving me the thumbs up sign.

Ibrahim keeps a collection of items dangling from his rear view mirror. They include a small foxtail, assorted hejabs (tiny leather amulets with Koranic verses sealed inside to ward off trouble), an old ID badge, and a (real) cat’s tail.

Virtually everyone wears hejabs including toddlers. I “ordered” a couple through one of the women at the Center.  They have to be specially made.

Over lunch (about $2.50 for 3 people) in a small café owned by Suliman’s brother, Ibrahim tells me that the biggest problems in the area are access to water and education. The wadi (seasonal river) is dry now so people must resort to wells, and god help them if anything breaks because parts and maintenance expertise are hard to come by with fewer NGOs in the area.

Kutum is divided by a very wide wadi. All the officials have offices and live on the other side of the wadi from the main town and the camp.  During the rainy season, rather than attend to the difficult business of crossing, they go on leave.

I’ve printed photos for each of the women (love my portable printer), just to make them happy.  Seeing themselves – in all their beauty and sorrow  – seems to matter a lot. Probably for some, it will be the only photo they have of themselves and their baby.

Monday, 12/21/09 – Kassab Camp, North Darfur

In a classic example of the universe conspiring to assist, we are waiting at the gate for our driver when two women in tobes approach.  The sentry speaks no Arabic. Huda goes to assist. The women are from the Ministry of Health and the Daya (midwife) school – exactly the people we had planned to hunt down.  We discuss our goal to support midwife training of some women from the Center. Another matter for follow up.

I have received some lovely gifts from the ladies – small crocheted squares in vivid colors and designs, and several beaded baskets. It deeply touches me that they want to demonstrate gratitude and affection. We laugh a lot together.

Flirty stuff goes on between ibrahim and the two Fatiahs; he teases them that he would marry them as a “package deal.”

He tells us of a local plant (called aweer, literally “stupid”) that allegedly has a euphoric effect. People put the leaves in their shoes and it’s been whispered that some men even put them in their shorts for, I assume, a boost. Of course, I request a sample to test.

Fatigue.

Since I was here last May, the Base taken on a barnyard feel – more resident chickens (to break up the monotony of the mess hall fare?) and a new goat.

I’m ready to kill the rooster that crows endlessly in late afternoon.

Seems that in a recent meeting, an evidently clueless UNAMID liaison person was asked by the sheikhs about the recipient of UNAMID’s reports.  Her (wrong) answer was “the government”. This cleared the room and reinforced already grave suspicions that UNAMID is working with the government against the civilians. Thus I’m introduced to the Arabic word for “shooting self in foot”:  dagaas.

Not to be outdone in this regard, the sheikhs refuse a meeting with the base commander, an affable, practical man who actually accepted and appreciated my perspective on “what just happened” – informed in part by the women at the Center. The camp is such a gossip mill.

He told me that the Governmentt moves UNAMID bases just about the time they’ve completed their infrastructure and access improvements. This evidently has become a key element of the regime’s strategy for rural development.

Tuesday, 12/22/09 – Kutum Town and Kassab Camp, North Darfur

Today we are prepared for a meeting with the sheikhs and youth group (shabab). Sometimes the politics are so arcane and self-serving, I don’t know how to react. The sheikhs don’t show, but there are about 10 young men and 25 women. The men feel they should be able to critique the Center managers and to enforce a rotation of women out of the Center every three months to bring in a new group. I let them know we are committed to keeping the current members, adding more and then describe our training plans. Suddenly, they refuse to discuss further until they get Suliman’s input. Luckily, I am able to get Suliman on the phone; he backs me up. After a lot of back and forth, we agree that the shabab and the sheiks will deliver a written agreement giving us use of the old IRC Center. Beyond that, we will have a written “rules of engagement” between community and DPDO (this to repair misconceptions seeded by our former Khartoum director who was sacked). Good lord, the Sudanese love to talk.

Then, back at the Center, I sit among the women to talk, and quickly feel the nakedness of their need. In particular, they want to earn income.

Wherever you look in Sudan, needs create desperation. Everything is broken, dirty, torn, chipped, smelly, jerry-rigged, old, cheap, inadequate, heaped or scattered. People adapt, but the horror is that they accept their lot. It’s hard to find sustained progressive thinking – probably because it’s so dangerous.

Huda has been incredibly poised and helpful. Despite all the illusions I’ve heard/seen shattered, she is seriously moving in the direction of a career in humanitarian aid and development. I love mentoring her because she is open and willing to see.

When we return to the base to gather our stuff, the commander invites is to a good-bye party at 17:00 hours. So we head to Ibrahim’s for supper with his wife and 8 kids, then to Suliman’s mom’s house - where we will stay the night – to drop off our stuff.  At the Base command center, we sit at an enormous table with the commanding officers. Each in turn thanks us for being there. I’m humbled since I hadn’t realized our presence had been so duly noted. The appetizers are sausages and fried-fish nuggets, with Sprite and Pepsi.

Off to haboba’s (grandmother’s) where our third meal is offered. The night is exceptionally quiet, and haboba has brought out a new comforter for me. Suliman told me she periodically asks him to send new blankets. These she doles out to needy neighbors.

Total exhaustion… I’m tired of being gritty dirty, always thinking about where to get water, and dealing with hole-in-the-ground toilets and their stench. This is the standard of living here.

Wednesday, 12/23/09 – Kutum – El Fasher

Morning milk tea. I sit in the kitchen and watch the process of preparing it, then washing pots and kettles with no running water and a habit of careful use since all water has to be hauled home.

We are at the Kutum landing strip at 9am for the arrival of the 9:35 flight. It’s a clear windy morning with mist skirting the Kutum range of seven low craggy peaks.  Watching wild dogs chasing each other and two donkeys still as statues until Huda decides to commune with them and they skedaddle out of reach. Ibrahim is playing some bouncy Sudanese music. I’m excited to see a chopper approach from the east; I’ll soon be one step back into “the world”. We learn that the flight has added another destination – Um Baro to the west – so that an MSF team can make a short visit. They’ll be back at 4pm to collect us. The good news, I did get my cargo of baskets booked on the flight.

With no better options, we return to the UNAMID base. We are warmly greeted, offered brunch and the use of “our” room until we need to leave again.  I’m glad for the chance to rest and collect my thoughts

Thursday, 12/24/09 – El Fasher

Today was a surreal experience. DPDO now has a very good office here – after much struggle. I spent about an hour with Yagoub debriefing him on all the developments at Kassab and items for his follow up. Then people started arriving (I believe dear Muna put out the word). Like a parade of petitioners to Don Corleone on the day of his daughter’s wedding.

First four men from Mallwi school. The community had no support from the government for education so they opened their own school with volunteer teachers.  A few crude classrooms, a few “classes under the tree”. One old barrel for drinking water, as many as 10 trips a day to a distant water point to keep it filled for 383 primary students, no pay for teachers, no latrines. They receive food from UNICEF for a breakfast feeding but must pay about $350 per month to have it trucked to the school. Overall, a dismal situation. They wanted DPDO to help. I promise them I will ask Suliman for some sort of assistance. Later, he agrees to provide money for two months transport plus two water barrels. They are happy with this, but obviously so much more is needed. At least three dozen other schools that I know of have similar circumstances.

Next come two women from a program in Dar el Salaam, about 75 kilometers west of el Fasher. For 13 years, they have run numerous programs to support rural women. In recent years, they’ve lost a lot of funding to programs in the camps. This has had the effect of driving women from their villages to the camps in order to receive assistance. A truly bad outcome. They have a long list of needs, but I can only assure them of solar cooker training.

Then a teacher from one of our more distant schools to complain that they haven’t been paid – a fact, since our donations have tanked this year. In truth, NGOs should not be doing the job of the Ministry of Education; paying teachers has resulted in little obvious improvement to the schools. That’s why DPDO is moving in the direction of reconstruction.

Kassab Camp and Abu Shouk Camp have become small towns with very different characters. Kassab is a warren of alleyways between makeshift and semi-permanent “homes” with tiny local “stores” and open-air markets. Abu Shouk is twice as big (about 55,000 residents) and is a desolate suburb of El Fasher with numbered “streets” and community latrines on the corners of the main intersections.

All the residents came from rural villages that were destroyed between 2004-2006. They are farmers without land, stuck in a place that breeds all the problems of urban environments – prostitution, drug trade (weed and opium), and informal gangs of bandits. No better way to crush a culture. The government’s plan now plays out by attrition. And now there are rumors of the government closing all the camps (more than 150 throughout Darfur) in a few months. But the residents have nowhere to go.