Getting things done in Midigo

As I described in the last post. The women are the people who really get things done. I often found that there was a very important protocol to follow when getting thing done.

Each, time I came to visit, I would be expected to talk with the Elders. Talking would sometimes be a bit of an overstatement. Many times we would sit for hours not saying a thing. That was ok, it was part of the relationship.

At these meetings, with the elders, they would present their needs, or ideas for improving their community. I would listen and talk with them about how that would be a benifit or not for them. Once we all agreed to a project, we needed to find someone to run it.

This is where the women came in. The women were the ones who are responsible for taking care of their families. The men are often detached and drunk. So, the most successful project we helped start all involved the local women as the leaders.

The people living in Midigo

I think one of the best parts of living in Uganda, was the chance to know the people living in Midigo. So, let me share a little about them.

Midigo is in the Yumbe district of Uganda. This is the northwestern corner of the contry and boarders both Sudan, to the north, and Congo, to the west. It is a very hot and mostly arid place.

The people who live there are called the Aringa. Up until very recently, almost no one knew of them. Their language was un-written and untranslated. Very little contact with the outside world. While only about 40 or 50 miles from a medium sized town, Arua, it would take 4-5 hours of hard driving to get to them.

The Aringa, for the most part, have had it very rough. They have been "run-over" by just about every rebel group to ever exist in that region. More importantly, since these rebel groups have been operating in the region, almost no aid ever reaches them. The UN have labeled it a level 3 security zone. Which is to say, there should not be any unnessary personell staying there.

No power, no communication, but still a vibrant communication within their own people. It amazed me how fast village to village communication was, often faster than I could drive between them.

The social structure of the Aringa seems to center on a group of "elders" who are political and social leaders. There is additionally a smaller group of shamen who were described by the translator as "land lords". They would be responsible for the rains, the allocation of land, and keeping the spirits happy. Finally, the women of the Aringa are really the people who get things done.

Sudan, war and peace...

When my wife and I first looked decided to go to Africa, it was because of the war induced famine in South Sudan. We thought that it was simply not right for people to die because they have no food, when some much of the world has plenty.

Then over the last few years, with a lot of effort, peace came to South Sudan. Even more astonding was seeing John Garang being sworn in as vice-president of Sudan. I never in a million years would have thought that he would ever be given such a position.

Then he died in a plane crash in Northern Uganda. Just a few weeks after he was sworn in... One of the most disheartening days that I have known in a long time.

Finally, we hear today of an attach on a refugee camp in the Dafur region. 29 people were killed when "Arab" militia attacked the camp. Sometimes it just never seems to end.

Sudan: At least 29 killed in Arab militia attack on Darfur camp - UNHCR

This is a mode of operation that has continued for decades in Sudan. The northern government, either by direct instigation, or by simply allowing it to occur, has been doing this since the war began. If they are serious about the peace process, this sort of thing needs to stop.

Well baby checks...

Since we got started on the subject of children. This picture is from a well baby clinic that we set up in Midigo. It turns out that this was really important to the people in Uganda.

One of the most racist statements I hear about working over there... "They have been living like this for centurys, why worry about them now?" Or something like that...

It is true, they have been living and dying in Midigo for many many centuries, probably much longer. However, there are two things people need to remember. One, and the most important, is that no one, wants to see loved ones die. Two, despite having few visitors come to visit them, they have been negatively influenced by western cultures.

There are many, many complex issues involved in development work. Just keep thinking, and reminding yourself, that they deserve exactly the same or better treatment than you. Would you want a child to die of malaria, here in the US? How about your home town, or on your street? No, of course not! Why then do people think it is some how ok if it happens in Africa?

About the red chilies in Midigo

Last time I mentioned explaining the red chilies. Well the story starts with money.

The average, family income per year is about $30. Not much, even for a rual area like this. Things like soap, clothes, medicine, school, these all take money. Each item has an impact much deeper than one might think. Take the medicine for instance.

Child mortality in Midigo was at about 40% when I first visited the area. That means that 40% of the children born in Midigo, died before they were 5 years old. Take a moment to think about that... Think about the number of children you know. Now imagine 4 out of 10 not being there.

Now lets take it back to the red chilies...

Nearly all of those children died from malaria. Well not entirely from malaria. Each child was probably also malnourished, suffering from internal parasites and any number of other ailments. However, it was usually the malaria that would push them over the edge.

Malaria medicine, for a child, would cost between 10 and 30 cents. Nothing to us, but to them it is a sizable amount. Now, the family has to decide if they should spend this money on medicine and maybe have the child get malaria again in a month or two. Or, see if the child can pull through on their own.

Well that $30/year doesn't go far with those kind of decisions. So we looked into a way to help them make some extra money. Red chilies are one of the best cash crops in the world. Nearly everyone uses them in cooking. They are light weight and store easily. There is a ready market for them in Uganda and for export. So, with some help from some friends working with USAID we started an agriculture program in Midigo.

Last I heard about 20 families were doing quite well with them. That along with several other programs we worked on made a huge difference in Midigo. During my last trip to Midigo, an elder told me that their "children were not dying anymore."

My goofy mustache

Well, maybe it time to show what I looked like while I was over there. I grew the mustache because, well I thought it made me look more "rugged". Looking at myself now, well it just looks goofy.

Anyway, I am at a place called Midigo. It is in the Yumbe district of Uganda. Just about 20 miles or so from Sudan. Midigo has a long history, but few people know much about it.

When I went to vist it for the first time, in 1999, I was told I was the first white person they had seen in 70 years! Thankfully, that last experience was a good one and a few old "mosea" or elders remembered that person as a good man who help bring medicine during a desease outbreak.

I was there, on the trip in the picture, to deliver some red chillis. (the trouble with that last statement is the amount of exlaining it requires) I'll talk about that in the next post. Actually, there is so much to tell about the people of Midigo. They more than anything I ever did anywhere in Africa, impacted my life.

I think they would be happy to know that they are being remembered. As one elder told me, "he knows how far it is to America" and it is a "miracle that I have come that far". A huge statement for me to absorb, one that I am only now realizing the full meaning.

Delivery room...

Our second child was born in Africa. As she is quick to point out, she my "Africa Girl". We actually had a pretty good experience with the delivery. She was born at a place called Kijabe, Kenya. A large mission hospital, with a very good staff. I doubt we could have a better team of specialist back in the states. That experience is in contrast to most births in Africa.

The photo shows a Sudanese Doctor and the delivery room at his bush hospital. He has had to rig things up with what he has. The Red Cross had given him a small generator, so he has the lights for deliveries at night. Most Sudanese women delivery their babies at home. A close relative or neighbor usually helps out. Only severe complications come into the hospital and most end up not making it at all.

The price some pay...

Since this is my Blog, I figure I get to talk about the things that are important to me. I was thinking, last night, about some of the people I know in Africa. Wondering where they were, how they were doing that sort of thing. I was remembering how much each person, working in relief, wanted to the best we could.

A lot of people critize one organization or another... that includes me... But when you really get to know the people on the ground, working in some of these areas you realize somthing. You realize that each one, no matter how bad of a job YOU think they are doing, each one has sacrificed something big to be there.

My first trip "in country" started back in the US. It was at the Baltimore airport. I was dropping my wife and daughter off at one terminal (for a trip to Grandma's house) and then I was going on to the International Terminal. I remember it so well because it was there that I first believed that I was dead.

I had been told that there was a better then average chance that I would not be coming back from the location I was going. Civil war in Sudan was in full swing at the time and it was danger in the extreme. My wife and I knew this, but felt that it was still something we had to do.

So, there I was kissing my wife goodbye and hugging by daughter, and I realized this may be the last time I see them or touch them. I resigned myself at that point that if I was going to get through this I needed to put my life aside and get to work. My wife told me that she had said goodbye for good that day.

All of this came back to me, very suddenly, about a week later. I was flying copilot in a Cessna Caravan talking off from Loki. Just as we clear the threshold we heard a call come in from another pilot. He was flying a LET 410, ex-Soviet plane. The pilot was a Texan though, rumour had it that he was ex-Air America... how is that for irony. Anyway, the call came in that he had lost his nose gear on take off and was coming for a crash landing.

I remember desperately searching the sky for him. He reported that he had 9 people on board. He asked for the firetrucks to wait for him at the end of the runway. Then he asked for them to pull him out first... his attempt at humor. We were the last flight out as he was coming in and we just could not see him inbound. I thought about where I was going and for just a moment I thought about my family back home.

I wanted to turn around and go back. I could have too... I was in charge of this flight and I could have aborted... but I just thought about all the people back home I would disappoint. They were counting on me to get these supplies to people who needed them. They were counting on me.

Strange, for the first time as I write this I'm realizing I was not flying into danger for the people who needed it (the Sudanese) or even myself, I was doing it for the people back home. I was doing this for all the wrong reasons.

At the time there was a price on the head of any aid worker trying to bring help to the South Sudan. We flew in without a flight plan, under the radar so-to-speak. We used coded transmissions to confirm our location with HQ. But every thing went ok on that trip. We delivered what we needed to deliver. We came home in one piece and I went on to do it many more times. Sometimes even more dangerous missions. But... I don't think I did any of them for the Sudanese or for myself... I did them all for the people back home who wouldn't go.

What about the roads?

I wanted the title to include something with deep meaning for me. For me the roads in Africa tell the story better than anything. In Uganda, Kenya and Sudan when you travel the roads, you can tell just about everything you need to know about that place.

For one thing, all of the roads are really in very bad shape. In fact some of the very best roads I encountered in Africa were worse than anything in America. But it is not just the quality of the roads that is tell, but also what you find on and around them that are important.

In the Yumbe district of Uganda (the northwest corner), you find very few houses close to the road. Really you would think that almost no one lived there, except if you looked close. When you slow your SUV down and start watching the edges you will see paths. Each path lead to a group of house and branches out from there. I have personally walked for miles down these paths meeting all sorts of people along the way.

I have found that people tend to define their places by the speed of transport. Think about this for a minute. In Africa it seemed that every couple of minutes driving down the road, my driver would say we had just passed this place or that place. Coming from the western US, where you can drive for over an hour before coming to a new place, these Africa places always seemed to close together. It was only when I realized that I was the only motorized vehicle around, that everything made sense. It took them up to an hour to get between those places that I could drive in a few minutes. They were spacing places out in time, the same way we do in the US.

Dispite all the differences, I always came back to the realization that we were all the same.

Loki... on the edge at night...

Loki, Kenya, could have been the desert town from Star Wars. Loki, was the last town before the Sudanese border. Originally a very small place it became the center of the UN's relief program to south Sudan. At it's hight, one flight took off or landed from is dirt runway ever 2 minutes!

The northern extreme of Kenya is home of the Turkana people. One of the pastoralist of sub-sahara Africa. They have mostly been left alone through history. The live in a place where the destert sun is so un-relenting that at time vehicles can not pass. Not too far from Loki is Lake Turkana, where Leaky made his famous discovery decades ago. It is also home to 200lbs Nile perch and a huge population of Nile Crocs.

Now suddenly, the Turkana have people driving through their land, and one of the largest relief operations in the history of the UN taking off from right in the heart of their territory. So it is no real supprise to me that many of them had taken to ambushing the convoys of trucks driving food and medicine to the airbase at Loki.

I remember my first night spent in Loki. I was with a small survey team and we said a place called "Kate Camp". It was called that because a woman named Kate ran it... imagine that. It was really just a bunch of tents set up inside a chainlink fence. There was a kitchen where they served up some pretty good food. Anyway, my first night was spent at Kate Camp, not sleeping.

I wasn't sleeping because every few minutes or so gun shots could be heard. Sometime in the distance sometimes very close. I learned later that "thugs" would try to enter the town and take whatever was not guarded. These shots were the guards taking "pot-shots" at them. I remember laying there just waiting for a stray bullet to hit me... it never did.

For the first time in my life I knew it was morning by the call to prayers coming from the local mosque. I was so relieved...