206 to Thiangrial
March 29, 2011
If pilots pray before they take off with passengers then I guess they usually keep it to themselves. Not this guy. He gives a safety briefing which is thorough and practical and before he climbs in prays. What does that mean about the prospects of the flight? Well, given it is AIMAIR it means we are doubly in very good hands. He climbs into the tiny cockpit of the Cessna 206, calls “clear”, fires the engine and off we roll. We launch south into a stiff breeze, but quickly turn north as we climb out over UN camps and Food Relief facilities. I am travelling with Sandy, a nurse from Canada who has been working across this part of Africa for the last twenty or so years. She runs a clinic up here at Doro. I am impressed at her commitment to the people and work and enjoy a long chat with her through to Loki. But in this small craft we are forced to sit in line and the noise prevents any conversation anyway.
Permission to Travel in the World’s Newest Country
March 28, 2011
For the first time in my life I have a certificate that says I am allowed to travel. Everything up to now must have been illegal or fraudulent. I have travelled under all sorts of labels in my time, some genuine, some creatively spurious but this is the first time I have worn the label “missionary”. I am not too sure what to make of that I have to confess. But if that is what is necessary for me to get into South Sudan then so be it. I am as tall as any of the Dinkas I have met so far but perhaps if you are that tall there is no official recognition of such – I see they have shaved 14cm off me. For the duration of this trip I will be 170cm tall. But the really neat thing about this certificate is the fact it is issued by the Government of Southern Sudan, the world’s newest country. Now that is a real privilege and not to be understated.
Awake at Sparrows
March 22, 2011
I woke to the sound of roosters and flew in an instant to villages along the Kokoda Track. And then laughed to myself as I recalled trying to explain to a Japanese friend what the phrase “to wake at sparrows” meant. Some things just do not translate. All the Australians in the group were rolling about in laughter, while he stood in perplexed silence and tried to gauge the source of the mirth. Despite claims to the contrary it clearly eluded him as years later he sent an email from Tokyo saying he had woken up with the swallows. Which only created more mirth. I piled out from under the mosquito net, showered, got fed then settled into some reading. There is a handy little library resource on this apartment and I am finding helpful stuff relating to subjects relevant to what I am exploring in this part of the world.
Dead set, this is Nairobi
March 22, 2011
Welllllcohm, wellllllcohm. Hospitality is a hallmark here. They shake hands over and over and seem glad to see you, a long lost friend even though just met, rolling their tongues over the “l” as if tasting it. They are interested in knowing who you are, smiling and nodding and committing to a long drawn out “yeeeeeesssss” when they clearly have no idea what you have just said. Which actually is not that often.
Taxi Story – the Kenyan
March 21, 2011
Waiting outside Nairobi airport. An earlier made friend called Peter walks up in the company of another chap I have never seen., who holds out his cell phone and says by way of introduction:
Here you go, talk to this man.
Who? (And who are you?)
The person on the end of the phone knows where you are supposed to go.
(That is no comfort – his idea and my idea could be hemispheres apart. I take the phone.)
Welcome to Kenya
March 20, 2011
The first hint at what sort of airport you are going to find comes as the undercarriage touches the tarmac and the nose wheel anticipates doing something similar in a few seconds time. We rush past a couple of dumped Soviet cargo aircraft (An-24s, or were they 26s? I blinked.), a Lockheed L110 and three Boeing 737-100s. The last time I saw a 737-100 was one I flew in from Hyderabad to Calcutta much to my dismay. It was a chicken and goat flight if you get my drift – all sorts of hand luggage.
Out of Africa to Warm the Heart
November 9, 2008
Not everything out of Africa is grim. My own limited experience of South Africa and Zimbabwe reinforced the need to be alert to what was happening around you. Its just that kind of environment. Not much different to Soho in that regard though. On Saturday the Sydney Morning Herald ran a story on Catherine Hamlin. I had read her book some time ago but she had faded from view. But she hammered back into my consciousness as I was reminded of just how remarkable this woman is. After the appalling(yet hopeful) story of Vestine, here was a story of the poorest and most marginalised (by their fistula wounds) being given love and hope and encouragement. From a woman who is now 84! Read more
