Geneva/Khartoum
hello all, greetings from sudan! i'm not in darfur yet (i'm in khartoum, the capital of sudan) so don't expect this email/posting to be uber exciting. just to forewarn you....
so....geneva. definitely an experience. beautiful, rich, glamorous, and an odd place to spend a few days before heading to a poverty-stricken, war-torn country like sudan. i'm pretty sure i was the only person over 12 who was wearing jeans. i think geneva can be summed up pretty well by saying that right next door to the MSF headquarters is the local ferrari dealership (for those of you who don't know, msf is short for "medecins sans frontieres", which is "doctors without borders" in french. it's just easier to type). there were 3 days of endless meetings where i managed to glean the one piece of information i was actually looking for: i asked the woman who had been in habilah before me if she had seen any large spiders there. she replied "no", then she thought for a second and started to speak again, which was when i put my hand up and said "nope, that's all i want to hear, thanks". on thursday a friend from home, efrat, joined me as she's in switzerland working on her masters. it so ruled to have a friend there to see the city with. we conquered my jetlag by staying up talking until midnight, which meant i no longer fell asleep at 7 and woke up at 3am. i woke up friday morning and with my first moment of consciousness i smiled and thought "i'm going to africa tomorrow". friday was a half day at msf, then we walked around the old city (mostly so i could tell my parents that i had seen some of geneva. i could have happily sat chatting in a cafe all day, eating cheese and ice cream. not that i didn't do that- i totally did). saturday morning steffen, another msfer heading to darfur, and i got up at an unGodly hour and caught our first flight. it was a fun trip, mostly because of steffen the germans insistence that i "improve his english language!". we met up with giles the english guy (as if someone named giles would be from anywhere else) in amsterdam, then we all flew to khartoum together. the flight was crazy. i looked out my window at one point, and there was nothing below us but sand- and it stayed that way for the last couple of hours of the trip. we started to debate how long we would survive if our plane went down in the sahara, and that's about when i started to get very thirsty. landing was an experience, as the clouds that we had to pass through were made of dust and sand and you couldn't see the ground until you were almost on it. i could, however, see the flight tracker in front of me that gave the usual information on miles left till the destination, local time, etc. my favourite part was watching the outside temperature go from -54 degrees celcius in the sky to 42 freaking degrees on the ground. at 6pm. sorry american friends, i don't know what that is in fahrenheit. stepping off the plane was not unlike opening the preheated oven to put your baking in. except that rather than putting your cookie sheet in and closing the oven door, you climb in alongside your cookie sheet and close the door behind you. yeah, welcome to sudan.
the airport was a breeze thanks to the guy who grabbed my bags without asking, put them on a cart, and took off past customs with them. he raced by them with no problem, thus sparing me the insanely lengthy search for alcohol, pornography, etc, that i would have had to endure. he did, however, try to charge me $100 for it. i was glad that i got to escape customs as a friend had included one of her amazing paintings in her plane letter and it had 2 naked women in it. i spent part of the flight debating whether or not to jiffy clothes on them, and finally decided that i couldn't desecrate such beautiful art.
i can't really describe khartoum as i've seen so little of it, but what i have seen has been brown and hot. the heat is relentless, but it's actually not as bad as it was in the philippines because there's no humidity (at all). this does not, however, mean that it's pleasant in any way, shape or form. the first night i slept like a starfish, bringing back memories of the philippines and my last couple of weeks in afghanistan. those of you who have been there know exactly what i'm talking about. you sleep with splayed limbs because you can't handle having any part of your body touch any other part of your body lest they stick together. last night i discovered the air conditioning in my room and actually managed to get some sleep. not a lot of sleep, mind you- i tried to kill a medium spider before bed and it escaped behind the dresser. there was a part of my subconscious that was well aware of that all night.
i was told that we (steffen, my new gay boyfriend, and i) fly to el geneina tomorrow, then "if the roads are safe" i'll part ways with steffen and be driven to habilah a day or two later. otherwise they'll take me in by helicopter. how does one determine that the roads are/aren't safe? your guess is as good as mine. don't they discover that the roads aren't safe by something happening? wait, update: we were just told that we will be helicoptered in the first time as they don't want the bandits to catch us with all of our stuff and get the idea that holding up msf vehicles is a good thing. my ipod will not be coming on the transports between camps with me. i'm not about to lose it, and i'm even less willing to die because all logic escapes me and i refuse to hand it over ("no, seriously, you don't want it- you don't even have a computer to charge it on! here, take my shoes instead. how about the doppler?"). i shouldn't joke- my mom reads these :)
in the plethora of briefing papers i've acquired, my favourite by far is the one that tells you how to handle yourself in certain situations in sudan. it's written in pure sarcasm, apparently in response to the idiot things that people have done in the past. i read the first 2 or 3 not realizing that it was a joke, thinking "really?" until i reached the one that advises you to dress like britney spears and to make sure that your thong is showing in order to gain the respect of sudanese men. the best ones for sure were the ones on how to handle the janjaweed. one of them says something like "when pulled over by the janjaweed don't give them your security money. tell them you have nothing and are just a volunteer. they'll understand- they're volunteers too!" another one was "never pull over at janjaweed or military checkpoints. accelerate and use your horn. they'll definitely know who you are and that you're in a hurry".
speaking of dressing like britney spears.... i discovered upon unpacking that i had managed to pack like someone who has never once left their hometown. i hear that sudan is hot, so all i do is pack tanktops. for those of you who aren't familiar with sharia law, i would just as soon walk down the road butt-naked as i would in a tanktop. since being here all i've been able to wear is my new msf t-shirt. so, off to the market. when did i become such an idiot?
alright all, i'm out of things to write about (no comments from you, dad), so until my next adventure, or my next email access, i bid you adieux....
so....geneva. definitely an experience. beautiful, rich, glamorous, and an odd place to spend a few days before heading to a poverty-stricken, war-torn country like sudan. i'm pretty sure i was the only person over 12 who was wearing jeans. i think geneva can be summed up pretty well by saying that right next door to the MSF headquarters is the local ferrari dealership (for those of you who don't know, msf is short for "medecins sans frontieres", which is "doctors without borders" in french. it's just easier to type). there were 3 days of endless meetings where i managed to glean the one piece of information i was actually looking for: i asked the woman who had been in habilah before me if she had seen any large spiders there. she replied "no", then she thought for a second and started to speak again, which was when i put my hand up and said "nope, that's all i want to hear, thanks". on thursday a friend from home, efrat, joined me as she's in switzerland working on her masters. it so ruled to have a friend there to see the city with. we conquered my jetlag by staying up talking until midnight, which meant i no longer fell asleep at 7 and woke up at 3am. i woke up friday morning and with my first moment of consciousness i smiled and thought "i'm going to africa tomorrow". friday was a half day at msf, then we walked around the old city (mostly so i could tell my parents that i had seen some of geneva. i could have happily sat chatting in a cafe all day, eating cheese and ice cream. not that i didn't do that- i totally did). saturday morning steffen, another msfer heading to darfur, and i got up at an unGodly hour and caught our first flight. it was a fun trip, mostly because of steffen the germans insistence that i "improve his english language!". we met up with giles the english guy (as if someone named giles would be from anywhere else) in amsterdam, then we all flew to khartoum together. the flight was crazy. i looked out my window at one point, and there was nothing below us but sand- and it stayed that way for the last couple of hours of the trip. we started to debate how long we would survive if our plane went down in the sahara, and that's about when i started to get very thirsty. landing was an experience, as the clouds that we had to pass through were made of dust and sand and you couldn't see the ground until you were almost on it. i could, however, see the flight tracker in front of me that gave the usual information on miles left till the destination, local time, etc. my favourite part was watching the outside temperature go from -54 degrees celcius in the sky to 42 freaking degrees on the ground. at 6pm. sorry american friends, i don't know what that is in fahrenheit. stepping off the plane was not unlike opening the preheated oven to put your baking in. except that rather than putting your cookie sheet in and closing the oven door, you climb in alongside your cookie sheet and close the door behind you. yeah, welcome to sudan.
the airport was a breeze thanks to the guy who grabbed my bags without asking, put them on a cart, and took off past customs with them. he raced by them with no problem, thus sparing me the insanely lengthy search for alcohol, pornography, etc, that i would have had to endure. he did, however, try to charge me $100 for it. i was glad that i got to escape customs as a friend had included one of her amazing paintings in her plane letter and it had 2 naked women in it. i spent part of the flight debating whether or not to jiffy clothes on them, and finally decided that i couldn't desecrate such beautiful art.
i can't really describe khartoum as i've seen so little of it, but what i have seen has been brown and hot. the heat is relentless, but it's actually not as bad as it was in the philippines because there's no humidity (at all). this does not, however, mean that it's pleasant in any way, shape or form. the first night i slept like a starfish, bringing back memories of the philippines and my last couple of weeks in afghanistan. those of you who have been there know exactly what i'm talking about. you sleep with splayed limbs because you can't handle having any part of your body touch any other part of your body lest they stick together. last night i discovered the air conditioning in my room and actually managed to get some sleep. not a lot of sleep, mind you- i tried to kill a medium spider before bed and it escaped behind the dresser. there was a part of my subconscious that was well aware of that all night.
i was told that we (steffen, my new gay boyfriend, and i) fly to el geneina tomorrow, then "if the roads are safe" i'll part ways with steffen and be driven to habilah a day or two later. otherwise they'll take me in by helicopter. how does one determine that the roads are/aren't safe? your guess is as good as mine. don't they discover that the roads aren't safe by something happening? wait, update: we were just told that we will be helicoptered in the first time as they don't want the bandits to catch us with all of our stuff and get the idea that holding up msf vehicles is a good thing. my ipod will not be coming on the transports between camps with me. i'm not about to lose it, and i'm even less willing to die because all logic escapes me and i refuse to hand it over ("no, seriously, you don't want it- you don't even have a computer to charge it on! here, take my shoes instead. how about the doppler?"). i shouldn't joke- my mom reads these :)
in the plethora of briefing papers i've acquired, my favourite by far is the one that tells you how to handle yourself in certain situations in sudan. it's written in pure sarcasm, apparently in response to the idiot things that people have done in the past. i read the first 2 or 3 not realizing that it was a joke, thinking "really?" until i reached the one that advises you to dress like britney spears and to make sure that your thong is showing in order to gain the respect of sudanese men. the best ones for sure were the ones on how to handle the janjaweed. one of them says something like "when pulled over by the janjaweed don't give them your security money. tell them you have nothing and are just a volunteer. they'll understand- they're volunteers too!" another one was "never pull over at janjaweed or military checkpoints. accelerate and use your horn. they'll definitely know who you are and that you're in a hurry".
speaking of dressing like britney spears.... i discovered upon unpacking that i had managed to pack like someone who has never once left their hometown. i hear that sudan is hot, so all i do is pack tanktops. for those of you who aren't familiar with sharia law, i would just as soon walk down the road butt-naked as i would in a tanktop. since being here all i've been able to wear is my new msf t-shirt. so, off to the market. when did i become such an idiot?
alright all, i'm out of things to write about (no comments from you, dad), so until my next adventure, or my next email access, i bid you adieux....
posted by Amy Osborne | 12:34 AM
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