Apprently someone has been using my blog to scam people out of money. Please be assured this is not genuine and is not me.
I do not have an appartment to let in Brooklyn...
Sorry for any inconvenience, I've reported it to 'Blogger'
Monday, 18 October 2010
Tuesday, 14 September 2010
I had the time of my life...
Unlike last time, when a day off and a packet of drugs was enough to have me back fighting fit, this dose of malaria (despite my lack of medical knowledge I have decided that is definately what I had) was deeply unpleasant. I tried to fight it for a few days, you know the kind of thing, power through, keep working (at heights, despite the dizziness) but all this succeeded in doing was making things worse. To the extent that I spent the majority of my last day in Sudan lying under a tree feeling like crap.
We did have a visit from a plane that day, and as one of our number was flying off to the bright lights of Malakal I dragged myself out to say goodbye:
Now I know, my face bears a look somewhere between disgust and disdain, but I can assure you it was more just discomfort (mixed with a little disdain..towards whatever happened to be annoying me most at the time). On the way home, a journey that takes all of 5 minutes on foot, some of the local kids took pity on me and held my hand. On another day this might have been heartwarming but not today. All I could think was "If you give me some crazy tropical disease I'm coming back for you..."
Fortunately, I was able to make a bit of a recovery before I left. Even by the end of that day I was feeling strong enough to kill a chicken, a gift I'd recieved the previous day which we enjoyed for my farewell meal, an occasion followed by the chance for each member of our team here to say somehting nice about me. History has never known a longer or more awkward silence...
I'm kidding of course, everyone had something nice to say, and this time the heartwarming intentions worked a treat. There were even some tears, but not from me...I am a man after all...
And so, my friends, that's it. At 9am on Friday morning a plane arrived to whisk me away to Kenya for the last time, and it was all over.
I really did have the time of my life, for the most part. And I learned a good few valuable lessons..
I learned that managing a building project in Southern Sudan is far from a walk in the park, and leave with a strong sense of having unfinished business. This is probably mostly due to the fact that I do have unfinished business, with the new clinic building being in a state that is some way from readiness.
I learned that no matter how worthwhile the building project may be, it is not nearly as worthwhile as investing in the people in Mabaan county, and sharing the love and truth of Jesus with them. Probably my biggest regret is not being able to do that more. Whilst my biggest satisfaction comes from being able to a little bit...
I learned that no matter how hard I tried, and wanted, I could not become like one of them. it's impossible. I was routinely ashamed of how much stuff I had, and my life was all packed into a rucksack. Cant imagine how ashamed I'd be if they came to visit me in Scotland.
I learned that when people are struggling to survive the line between right and wrong becomes complicated. I repeatedly came up against things I would previously have said were wrong but when you understand where they were coming from you kinda understand. I'm glad God has perfect wisdom in arbitrating these things. I certainly don't...
I'm sure in time there will be a lot more to add to that list, but you'll have to ask me about that yourself, because you wont find it here. With my departure from Africa this evening I'm intending to mark the end of my blog. And so, my friends, until my next African adventure this is goodbye. May God bless you all...
We did have a visit from a plane that day, and as one of our number was flying off to the bright lights of Malakal I dragged myself out to say goodbye:
Now I know, my face bears a look somewhere between disgust and disdain, but I can assure you it was more just discomfort (mixed with a little disdain..towards whatever happened to be annoying me most at the time). On the way home, a journey that takes all of 5 minutes on foot, some of the local kids took pity on me and held my hand. On another day this might have been heartwarming but not today. All I could think was "If you give me some crazy tropical disease I'm coming back for you..."
Fortunately, I was able to make a bit of a recovery before I left. Even by the end of that day I was feeling strong enough to kill a chicken, a gift I'd recieved the previous day which we enjoyed for my farewell meal, an occasion followed by the chance for each member of our team here to say somehting nice about me. History has never known a longer or more awkward silence...
I'm kidding of course, everyone had something nice to say, and this time the heartwarming intentions worked a treat. There were even some tears, but not from me...I am a man after all...
And so, my friends, that's it. At 9am on Friday morning a plane arrived to whisk me away to Kenya for the last time, and it was all over.
I really did have the time of my life, for the most part. And I learned a good few valuable lessons..
I learned that managing a building project in Southern Sudan is far from a walk in the park, and leave with a strong sense of having unfinished business. This is probably mostly due to the fact that I do have unfinished business, with the new clinic building being in a state that is some way from readiness.
I learned that no matter how worthwhile the building project may be, it is not nearly as worthwhile as investing in the people in Mabaan county, and sharing the love and truth of Jesus with them. Probably my biggest regret is not being able to do that more. Whilst my biggest satisfaction comes from being able to a little bit...
I learned that no matter how hard I tried, and wanted, I could not become like one of them. it's impossible. I was routinely ashamed of how much stuff I had, and my life was all packed into a rucksack. Cant imagine how ashamed I'd be if they came to visit me in Scotland.
I learned that when people are struggling to survive the line between right and wrong becomes complicated. I repeatedly came up against things I would previously have said were wrong but when you understand where they were coming from you kinda understand. I'm glad God has perfect wisdom in arbitrating these things. I certainly don't...
I'm sure in time there will be a lot more to add to that list, but you'll have to ask me about that yourself, because you wont find it here. With my departure from Africa this evening I'm intending to mark the end of my blog. And so, my friends, until my next African adventure this is goodbye. May God bless you all...
Monday, 6 September 2010
Happy Days...
Day 224 (of 228 in Sudan)...stupid malaria again. Great...
Maybe thats why my post yesterday was so lacking in positive outlook. A fact noted with some frustration by some of my American colleagues here. With their sunny dispositions...
Maybe thats why my post yesterday was so lacking in positive outlook. A fact noted with some frustration by some of my American colleagues here. With their sunny dispositions...
Sunday, 5 September 2010
Legacy...
And so it would seem my lasting legacy in Doro is to be represented by two things, at least in the eyes of my fellow missionaries here. First, a new dog proof fence for our compound:
My efforts concerning which bought me endless grace in my lack of pulling my weight in other more mundane chores.
Secondly, after over two years of functioning, the Doro clinic now (almost) has some toilets. I've been actively involved in this process from start (finding people to dig the holes - 4 m down in case you are interested) to finish, providing whatever expertise I deemed appropriate. Unfortunately, I didnt really know what I was doing...
On the day when we were preparing to pour the concrete for the floor, I was somewhat alarmed by the space left for the holes by Peter, our now lone Kenyan builder. When I suggested he make them a little bigger he duly obliged before letting me in on a national secret: "You know Kevin, in Kenya we are fearing to make the holes big because children fall into them" Can you imagine anything worse...? I don't think I can. Didnt stop me getting him to make them bigger though.
As for my legacy in the eyes of the Sudanese, that is somewhat more difficult to judge. I hope I've achieved more than just making them think I'm a nice guy...failing that I hope I've just made them think I'm a nice guy...
In other, equally fascinating, developments, I have made the fifth and final move of my time at Doro to the most basic abode yet, a grass house:
Or 'Kurnuk' as they are called here. I never thought I would view living in a mud hut as a luxury. This move is part of an overall effort by some of the team here to connect with the local community more effectively, a move which I wholeheartedly support. Or at least, I did wholeheartedly support until I got woken up at 7:30 this morning by a friend who was looking for some keys..."Hey Kevin, are you asleep?" Not any more.
That being said, there are positive aspects to living a bit more basically, not least the reduction in the shame I feel when I have Sudanese people in my house. Even the (relatively) little I brought out here with me now feels ludicrously extravagant. Lesson duly learned.
My time here is now painfully short, with a mere 4 days remaining. This is a fact that I am not savouring. And I'm trying to figure out just how exactly to 'end well'. I'm beginning to wonder if I should just tell people I'm going to be back sometime soon so they aren't too indignant with me. Actually, forget 'beginning to wonder', I've already done that with several people. Maybe now I'll have to make good my claim...
My efforts concerning which bought me endless grace in my lack of pulling my weight in other more mundane chores.
Secondly, after over two years of functioning, the Doro clinic now (almost) has some toilets. I've been actively involved in this process from start (finding people to dig the holes - 4 m down in case you are interested) to finish, providing whatever expertise I deemed appropriate. Unfortunately, I didnt really know what I was doing...
On the day when we were preparing to pour the concrete for the floor, I was somewhat alarmed by the space left for the holes by Peter, our now lone Kenyan builder. When I suggested he make them a little bigger he duly obliged before letting me in on a national secret: "You know Kevin, in Kenya we are fearing to make the holes big because children fall into them" Can you imagine anything worse...? I don't think I can. Didnt stop me getting him to make them bigger though.
As for my legacy in the eyes of the Sudanese, that is somewhat more difficult to judge. I hope I've achieved more than just making them think I'm a nice guy...failing that I hope I've just made them think I'm a nice guy...
In other, equally fascinating, developments, I have made the fifth and final move of my time at Doro to the most basic abode yet, a grass house:
Or 'Kurnuk' as they are called here. I never thought I would view living in a mud hut as a luxury. This move is part of an overall effort by some of the team here to connect with the local community more effectively, a move which I wholeheartedly support. Or at least, I did wholeheartedly support until I got woken up at 7:30 this morning by a friend who was looking for some keys..."Hey Kevin, are you asleep?" Not any more.
That being said, there are positive aspects to living a bit more basically, not least the reduction in the shame I feel when I have Sudanese people in my house. Even the (relatively) little I brought out here with me now feels ludicrously extravagant. Lesson duly learned.
My time here is now painfully short, with a mere 4 days remaining. This is a fact that I am not savouring. And I'm trying to figure out just how exactly to 'end well'. I'm beginning to wonder if I should just tell people I'm going to be back sometime soon so they aren't too indignant with me. Actually, forget 'beginning to wonder', I've already done that with several people. Maybe now I'll have to make good my claim...
Sunday, 22 August 2010
Buildings & Builders....
So, here is the building project when I arrived in February:
And here it is now:
Now I know what you're thinking, it doesnt look much different (apart from the longer grass - something I can not take any credit for). You're probably wondering what I've spent the last 6 months doing, maybe even thinking I've just been lazing around in the sunshine drinking coffee and working on my tan. But if you look inside, you can see we have actually made some progress:
February 2010:
August 2010:
And it's more than just a superficial lick of paint too, we now have proper rooms with ceilings and doors. Yesterday, DIY manual in hand, I started wiring up the lights. Should prove an interesting experience. Luckily, the building is not yet hooked up to the mains (I use the word mains in the loosest possible sense...4 solar panels on the roof) so there's absolutely no chance of me electrocuting myself. Based on past experience this is no bad thing.
Once completed the building will house a maternity unit, complete with delivery room and ward, a lab and an operating theatre. Some of you may be questioning how qualified I am to oversee the building of an operating room and let me tell you, you are in good company. I dont have a clue...
Work continues to progress and we're in good shape to be all done by the end of October, however, there has been one sad development in the last week. My right hand man, John Maruti, left for Kenya and won't be back until after I leave. It was the end of an educational, humbling, frustrating and mostly beautiful working relationship. Last Monday we said goodbye:
Fortunately, I think I'm going to be able to go and visit him on my way home, which helped to ease the pain...
John has almost certainly invested more effort than anyone in the building project, being involved right from the start, and he's certainly made my Sudanese experience a lot smoother. Although he routinely called me the boss (or 'Kevo-baba' when he was feeling affectionate), he taught me way more than I taught him and fairly early on I learned that when it came to how to do almost anything here, John was almost always right. Unfortunately, he had a habit of coming and telling me the right way after I'd done it wrong. That took a bit of getting used to.
I learned that almost every problem on the building site can be solved by a string, that getting angry isn't a very effective approach to management of Africans (One of the last things he said to me before he left, as we were about to deal with a tricky situation with our labourers was "Now Kevin, don't become annoyed"), how to have a disagreement with someone and then have both of you laughing by the end, how to kill a big snake (and a goat) and how to work without power tools, the African way ("You white people taught us this, and now you dont know"). He's a bit of a legend.
In a completely random aside, his eldest son he found crying in a bush as a baby so he took him in and called him Moses. His second son he obtained by more conventional means and named Kevin...I like to think that was in anticipation of working with me...
Here, the clock is ticking. I leave Doro two weeks on Friday and I'm not looking forward to it. It pains me to think how quickly the time has passed. I feel like I'm just getting the hang of things and now it's time to leave.
On a lighter note, tomorrow I celebrate my 28th birthday. Hopefully that doesnt mean it will be a bad day.
Until next time my friends...
And here it is now:
Now I know what you're thinking, it doesnt look much different (apart from the longer grass - something I can not take any credit for). You're probably wondering what I've spent the last 6 months doing, maybe even thinking I've just been lazing around in the sunshine drinking coffee and working on my tan. But if you look inside, you can see we have actually made some progress:
February 2010:
August 2010:
And it's more than just a superficial lick of paint too, we now have proper rooms with ceilings and doors. Yesterday, DIY manual in hand, I started wiring up the lights. Should prove an interesting experience. Luckily, the building is not yet hooked up to the mains (I use the word mains in the loosest possible sense...4 solar panels on the roof) so there's absolutely no chance of me electrocuting myself. Based on past experience this is no bad thing.
Once completed the building will house a maternity unit, complete with delivery room and ward, a lab and an operating theatre. Some of you may be questioning how qualified I am to oversee the building of an operating room and let me tell you, you are in good company. I dont have a clue...
Work continues to progress and we're in good shape to be all done by the end of October, however, there has been one sad development in the last week. My right hand man, John Maruti, left for Kenya and won't be back until after I leave. It was the end of an educational, humbling, frustrating and mostly beautiful working relationship. Last Monday we said goodbye:
Fortunately, I think I'm going to be able to go and visit him on my way home, which helped to ease the pain...
John has almost certainly invested more effort than anyone in the building project, being involved right from the start, and he's certainly made my Sudanese experience a lot smoother. Although he routinely called me the boss (or 'Kevo-baba' when he was feeling affectionate), he taught me way more than I taught him and fairly early on I learned that when it came to how to do almost anything here, John was almost always right. Unfortunately, he had a habit of coming and telling me the right way after I'd done it wrong. That took a bit of getting used to.
I learned that almost every problem on the building site can be solved by a string, that getting angry isn't a very effective approach to management of Africans (One of the last things he said to me before he left, as we were about to deal with a tricky situation with our labourers was "Now Kevin, don't become annoyed"), how to have a disagreement with someone and then have both of you laughing by the end, how to kill a big snake (and a goat) and how to work without power tools, the African way ("You white people taught us this, and now you dont know"). He's a bit of a legend.
In a completely random aside, his eldest son he found crying in a bush as a baby so he took him in and called him Moses. His second son he obtained by more conventional means and named Kevin...I like to think that was in anticipation of working with me...
Here, the clock is ticking. I leave Doro two weeks on Friday and I'm not looking forward to it. It pains me to think how quickly the time has passed. I feel like I'm just getting the hang of things and now it's time to leave.
On a lighter note, tomorrow I celebrate my 28th birthday. Hopefully that doesnt mean it will be a bad day.
Until next time my friends...
Saturday, 14 August 2010
Being a man...
I've discovered that when you live in Sudan, particularly on an SIM base mostly inhabited by women, there are plenty of opportunities to prove yourself as a man. This week was no exception...
This coming Monday one of our number, Sandra, is leaving us to return home. We decided to have a celebration on Thursday to mark the occasion, and invite all the students she had been teaching round for dinner. This was the main course, at around 2pm on Thursday afternoon:
After much deliberation we decided to call him Julius...
Somebody had to do the dirty work of killing him, and I bravely stepped up to the challenge, provided John & Nehemiah were there to keep me right. Here are Julius and I, getting in the zone:
So we laid him out and, after repeatedly asking John how I was supposed to do it, and never once recieving a satisfactory reply (He just kept saying, "you do it like this, by force!"), I went for it. Some readers might find these images mildly disturbing...
...rest assured they arent nearly as disturbing as the sounds that went along with them. A screeching goat and shouts from John of, "Not like that Kevin!", with Nehemiah gently encouraging me to "go ahead". Apparently I never fully grasped how deep you have to cut the throat. Poor Julius...
It was then on to the less glamorous tasks of skinning and butchering, which I duly bodyswerved:
before we set it all on the fire with muscles still twitching...it smelled, and tasted, amazing (goat meat has grown on me during my time here):
Almost immediately after we'd killed the goat, the cry went out from across the compound of "Snake! Snake!" and so I sprang into action, running in the direction of the call with nothing to kill it with at all. Fortunately, I was handed a machete and I was able to kill it...eventually. After I broke it's back first (making it the second animal in quick sucession to suffer a painful death at my hands)
The above photo shows me about to strike, but I'm guessing you cant even see the snake. I cant and I know where it is...unfortunately it was pretty small. But here is the evidence, which I'm sure you were all craving, of my latest snake kill. Number 4 so far. My target is 10...
And that's it for today I think. Life progresses as normal, I'm growing more and more to love the Sudanese coffee culture. This morning I went to bring some tools to some of the guys here who were going to do some work for us and when I arrived they said "Have you had coffee yet?", before inviting me to join them...I'm hoping to introduce this custom when I return to work in October. Nothing gets done until we all have a coffee.
The eagerly awaited pictures of the building are on their way. They have been taken but are still on someone elses camera. Like I said, I wont let you down...
This coming Monday one of our number, Sandra, is leaving us to return home. We decided to have a celebration on Thursday to mark the occasion, and invite all the students she had been teaching round for dinner. This was the main course, at around 2pm on Thursday afternoon:
After much deliberation we decided to call him Julius...
Somebody had to do the dirty work of killing him, and I bravely stepped up to the challenge, provided John & Nehemiah were there to keep me right. Here are Julius and I, getting in the zone:
So we laid him out and, after repeatedly asking John how I was supposed to do it, and never once recieving a satisfactory reply (He just kept saying, "you do it like this, by force!"), I went for it. Some readers might find these images mildly disturbing...
...rest assured they arent nearly as disturbing as the sounds that went along with them. A screeching goat and shouts from John of, "Not like that Kevin!", with Nehemiah gently encouraging me to "go ahead". Apparently I never fully grasped how deep you have to cut the throat. Poor Julius...
It was then on to the less glamorous tasks of skinning and butchering, which I duly bodyswerved:
before we set it all on the fire with muscles still twitching...it smelled, and tasted, amazing (goat meat has grown on me during my time here):
Almost immediately after we'd killed the goat, the cry went out from across the compound of "Snake! Snake!" and so I sprang into action, running in the direction of the call with nothing to kill it with at all. Fortunately, I was handed a machete and I was able to kill it...eventually. After I broke it's back first (making it the second animal in quick sucession to suffer a painful death at my hands)
The above photo shows me about to strike, but I'm guessing you cant even see the snake. I cant and I know where it is...unfortunately it was pretty small. But here is the evidence, which I'm sure you were all craving, of my latest snake kill. Number 4 so far. My target is 10...
And that's it for today I think. Life progresses as normal, I'm growing more and more to love the Sudanese coffee culture. This morning I went to bring some tools to some of the guys here who were going to do some work for us and when I arrived they said "Have you had coffee yet?", before inviting me to join them...I'm hoping to introduce this custom when I return to work in October. Nothing gets done until we all have a coffee.
The eagerly awaited pictures of the building are on their way. They have been taken but are still on someone elses camera. Like I said, I wont let you down...
Sunday, 8 August 2010
Birthdays..
This week one of our number celebrated his birthday (Dr Rob, the boss). This, along with my own impending birthday on August 25th (not that I'm dropping hints) served as a timely reminder of something I've been meaning to share with you for a while. None of my friends here know when their birthdays are, or even how old they are. Usually they try and work it out from what they can remember, and it tends to change from time to time.
The other day I was having a bad day, and not only because I had to spend the whole day cutting and welding metal together. At the end of the day Iwas sitting with some of my friends under a tree when Joash asked me, "Kevin, why do you keep quiet like that".
When I explained to him that I'd had a bad day he said, "In our culture we say that it's your birthday". I thought he'd misheard me and explained "No no, I said I had a bad day, not that it's my birthday...it's Dr Rob's birthday today not mine"
He replied, "Yes, we say that if you are having a day like that, when you are unhappy, it means it muyst be the day you were born". I'm not sure what I think of that one to be honest. Was certainly an interesting exchange.
Speaking of anniversaries, of sorts, this evening at team devotions we were remembering some of our predecessors here who were among the first SIM Missionaries in Sudan in the late 30's. There were 5 of them here, working in the clinic (part of which still exists today) and building bridges with the then unreached Mabaan tribe. 70 years ago this month, two of them were killed when the clinic was bombed during World War Two, having only been here for 6 months or so.
Makes you think about the sacrifice these people were willing to make, living in a hard, isolated place(there were no planes waiting to come and whisk you away...no airstrip either), and staying even though they knew they were in danger. In order to spread the message of Jesus. I wonder if I'd be willing to do that, or if I'd be allowed to...probably not. One of my colleagues offers some eloquent insight (and some photos) here.
While we are on the subject of photo's, it was brought to my attention recently that I have offered you no pictures of the building project I am woring on on this particular medium and so you have all being relying on your imagination on the occasions when you ponder what my work looks like.
So, in the next few days I shall endeavour to post some up to date pictures so that your overworked imaginations can get some respite. I will however have to think creatively about how to get these pictures as I seem to have misplaced my camera, but dont worry. I wont let you down...
The other day I was having a bad day, and not only because I had to spend the whole day cutting and welding metal together. At the end of the day Iwas sitting with some of my friends under a tree when Joash asked me, "Kevin, why do you keep quiet like that".
When I explained to him that I'd had a bad day he said, "In our culture we say that it's your birthday". I thought he'd misheard me and explained "No no, I said I had a bad day, not that it's my birthday...it's Dr Rob's birthday today not mine"
He replied, "Yes, we say that if you are having a day like that, when you are unhappy, it means it muyst be the day you were born". I'm not sure what I think of that one to be honest. Was certainly an interesting exchange.
Speaking of anniversaries, of sorts, this evening at team devotions we were remembering some of our predecessors here who were among the first SIM Missionaries in Sudan in the late 30's. There were 5 of them here, working in the clinic (part of which still exists today) and building bridges with the then unreached Mabaan tribe. 70 years ago this month, two of them were killed when the clinic was bombed during World War Two, having only been here for 6 months or so.
Makes you think about the sacrifice these people were willing to make, living in a hard, isolated place(there were no planes waiting to come and whisk you away...no airstrip either), and staying even though they knew they were in danger. In order to spread the message of Jesus. I wonder if I'd be willing to do that, or if I'd be allowed to...probably not. One of my colleagues offers some eloquent insight (and some photos) here.
While we are on the subject of photo's, it was brought to my attention recently that I have offered you no pictures of the building project I am woring on on this particular medium and so you have all being relying on your imagination on the occasions when you ponder what my work looks like.
So, in the next few days I shall endeavour to post some up to date pictures so that your overworked imaginations can get some respite. I will however have to think creatively about how to get these pictures as I seem to have misplaced my camera, but dont worry. I wont let you down...
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