Eritrean girl in Refugee Camp, Eastern Sudan.

The Tomb of Khatmiya Al Hassan Al Mirghani

There is a Sufi sect in a town at the base of an unusual mountain range that sits on the border of two fragile lands. A Sufi holy man is buried there, inside this tomb with an open domed roof, the locals say the rain does not ever fall inside. There is an old mosque next to it, again with no roof. The mosque was built 150 years ago by Italian colonials in a peace-building gesture, attempting to win the support of the Sufis. Peace was left broken and they left before the dome roof could be constructed. The locals are awaiting a man named Osman to arrive and rebuild it. Next to the mosque is another tomb, of a whole family, the family of the Sufi. His daughter Fatima has her own tomb with a green door. An old lady caretaker who lived there saw me and said I must place my whole hand on the door to Fatima's tomb. She said this would protect me and bring me luck. My local friends informed me this was rare for her to tell a foreigner to do this and that the old woman had seemingly taken to me. The setting sun warmed the brick work orange and at dusk it was almost difficult to separate mosque from mountains. They were as one.. offering a space of peace, solitude and eternal rest. But a sense of waiting still permeates.

A Week in the East

This past week I was working in the East for a change  right on the border with the illusive and conflict ridden land of Eritrea, (as opposed to Darfur, which sits in the far west on the border with Chad). It was magnificent to see another part of the country, and to travel by road for a change. Long road-trips are one of my most favorite past times.  This area also has incredible mountains, so the climber in me was dreaming big...  And it is also one of the main bread-baskets of Sudan, so the agriculturalist in me was equally happy. But as we drove around the farms and villages and refugee camps, stopping here and there to do market assessments and hold discussions with local traders, I could not help but feel some sorrow that we could not operate so freely in Darfur. The kidnapping of foreigners in Darfur, (22 people over the past 3 years), meant that we could not move freely without being at extreme risk and hence we were forced to largely stop field work altogether. Personally this was very difficult. I am a field person. I followed a profession in agriculture and aid-work because I do not enjoy being desk-bound. But all of a sudden, despite being located in one of the most unique and vulnerable humanitarian landscapes in the world, I found myself desk-bound, living with a 5pm curfew for more than 12 months. 

And so, naturally I was extremely happy and grateful to be back in the field last week, working along side new people, strategizing about new innovative projects to help vulnerable people, particularly women, learning more about this incredible country and all her complexities, stopping to let camels cross the road, eating local produce that people served me up proudly, being out in the sunshine. It was a refreshing week and I returned to the city feeling re-motivated and more alive than I had in weeks. It is the tangibility of work that can create a such a satisfaction that conceptualizing and paperwork will never be able to achieve, in any profession, and I must strive to find the balance and also prioritize the actions that will allow me to reach out and touch that which I am working towards. 

                                                                               

“Your work is to discover your work              and then with all your heart to give yourself to it.”                                                                                - Buddha

City Days..

So long Desert days. And so, inevitably, I find myself settling into my new city life. (Although technically I am still very much in the desert, painfully evident to my sweating body as I sit in the middle of the Sahel, somewhere where the Sahara begins to transition into the 'real' Africa of childhood dreaming. The heat is unbearable some days, and the sand is, still, everywhere). But the sparkling (albeit slightly muddy colored) Nile offers respite to gaze on as I sit reading on our balcony of a weekend. I now (mostly) have a desk job in the country office which does mean A/C comfort, cafeteria lunches and fewer power outages, but sadly also means having to wear proper office clothes again (frown).  My days wandering the camps of Darfur suddenly seem very far away. I have been enjoying eating every different kind of food I can get my hands on though.. Smoked salmon anyone? Bagel and cream cheese? 4-cheese pizza & bruschetta? I have started my Arabic classes again, am playing sport again, relaxing in a certain diplomatic pool on a weekend, shopping for imported goodies, like over-priced swiss chocolate, in a real super-market, risking my life and lungs riding rick-shaws and basically remembering how to have a life as an aid-worker living in a city, as opposed to 'the field'. Living in our own appartment is wonderful too, after months of moving around the field and living in work compounds, of having personal belongings looted during times of conflict, of always having to share bathrooms, kitchens, head spaces, it is simply heavenly to have our own space. Our shoes are by the door,  we have books on the shelf and our very own pot-plants sitting on our balcony. 

But above all, life's adventures and misadventures are of course about the souls we share them with, and while it took me several years of solo wanderings to really understand this deeply, I now see my priorities in a different light. I want continued adventures, but I also want to be near to the people who make me feel alive, who offer comfort when needed and who fill me with inspiration and laughter. And so it is with happiness that, after an entire year spent on the phone, I find myself back near the person who offers me exactly that. Its good for the soul to have someone to laugh with on a daily basis, to deliver a hug when laughter is momentarily blocked, and to share the occasional plate of smoked salmon with.. 

Our very own plants. Overlooking the Nile. 

All the seemingly mundane things are suddenly seen with a new appreciation. Like chatting about your day by the kitchen sink as you do the dishes, like deciding what to eat for dinner. Its going grocery shopping together, even choosing a new bath-mat and ironing board was surprisingly entertaining. And so I am enjoying all the little things that make up the big things about companionship.  Because when they are missing from your life, there is a void in your daily life, in your heart. The transient life of a nomad we have chosen for ourselves is not an easy one for fitting the 'normality' into, or for pairing up. Distances will no doubt place themselves between us again at some point.  So for now I am going to enjoy every little part of togetherness, this normal life, this city life, this beautiful life.  Grateful for You. 


“On a day 
when the wind is perfect, 
the sail just needs to open and the world is full of beauty. 
Today is such a day.”     ~ Rumi

In the Mountains...

Yes, Sudan has some!

Aren't they beautiful? 

Thoughts on Peace..

Women and Peace. An untapped resource? Sadly, we do not see enough mothers, sisters and daughters involved in international peace talks, comprehensive peace agreements, conflict mitigation strategics, disarmament and demobilization campaigns, post-war reconciliation trials.. in leadership.  But they are there, making peace in their hearts, in their homes. Over here we try and distribute our food and cash vouchers straight to the women of the household, (our monitoring has proven they use it more wisely than their husbands), but I do not often see the women in positions of community leadership and conflict mitigation activities.  But hope remains this month with the Nobel Peace Prize being awarded to three women,"for their non-violent struggle for the safety of women and for women’s rights to full participation in peace-building work." For me they are incredible stand-outs in Africa and the Middle East, two environments where women leaders are few and far between. Ellen Johnson Sirleaf, Leymah Gbowee, and Tawakkol Karman are a sign of a global change in understanding and, hopefully, of increased peace and security for all of us sharing this small planet. As was said by US Secretary of State Hillary Rodham Clinton, one of the worlds most powerful women, “The unflinching courage, strength and leadership of these women to build peace, advance reconciliation and defend the rights of fellow citizens in their own countries provide inspiration for women’s rights and human progress everywhere,”.   Indeed I work in a country where women's leadership is a rarity, making the words of Tawakkols Karmans', who is the same age as me, even more poignant for myself; “Islam has always been associated with radical terrorism, intolerance and more,” she said. “Giving it to a woman and an Islamist? That means a sort of re-evaluation. It means Islam is not against peace, it’s not against women, and Islamists can be women activists, and they can fight for human rights, freedom and democracy.”   Tawakkol is also the youngest person ever to become a Nobel Peace Laureate. 

My male colleagues who work along side me in international development often disagree with me on the importance of highlighting women's involvement and achievements. But the facts speak for themselves, of the impact of educating girls and involving them in community leadership, and the flow-on effects of a reduction in the number of children a family will have, increased household income, and the increased percentage of that income that is invested back into the prosperity of the family. Women are the key.  Women are also make up the part of a population that suffers the most directly during times of war, so logic would dictate they need to be included if not more than men in conflict mitigation activities. They need more support and their opinions need to be heard. They are the ones left behind to keep the next generation alive, grow food, collect water and often suffer the atrocities of war-fare on a personally physical level that no human should ever have to experience.            

“We cannot achieve democracy and lasting peace in the world unless women obtain the same opportunities as men to influence developments at all levels of society”

- Thorbjorn Jagland (Nobel committee).

Khmer women working in the rice paddies, Kam Chai Mear, Cambodia.

“I’m convinced that the only thing that kept me going was that I loved what I did. You’ve got to find what you love. And that is as true for your work as it is for your lovers. Your work is going to fill a large part of your life, and the only way to be truly satisfied is to do what you believe is great work. And the only way to do great work is to love what you do. If you haven’t found it yet, keep looking. Don’t settle. As with all matters of the heart, you’ll know when you find it. And, like any great relationship, it just gets better and better as the years roll on. So keep looking until you find it. Don’t settle.”

"... almost everything — all external expectations, all pride, all fear of embarrassment or failure - these things just fall away in the face of death, leaving only what is truly important. Remembering that you are going to die is the best way I know to avoid the trap of thinking you have something to lose. You are already naked. There is no reason not to follow your heart."                     

                                                                                                                                               - Steve Jobs

Across the Desert

I am feeling a little bit displaced this week. I've moved back into the city and said goodbye to Darfur, for now. It is strange being back in this bustling, excruciatingly hot place. Even though I was locked up inside in Darfur, with a 5pm curfew, living as though in a prison, part of me misses the small-town life. Where the sense of community was strong and I would sleep to the cries of donkeys throughout the night. Now I am serenaded by incessant risk-shaw motors that buzz like annoying wasps and the rumble of the archaic Russian Antanov cargo planes on the nearby airport runway. I will miss working in a small team too and knowing about each one of my colleagues families. I will try to retain my sense of small community here, in this huge sprawling office with hundreds of people turning the 'cogs' of the great food machine. But sometimes, it's not so easy. The wealth of this city also astounds me, in comparison to the camel nomads I met once near Jebel Marra, or the woman with the blind baby in the IDP camp, or the skinny children being weighed in the supplementary feeding centres of West Darfur. I look back through my photo's of this blog and my heart misses Darfur, already. 


I lost my horse Nulla to African Horse Sickness back in August, so for now there are no evening rides to lighten my heart at the end of a long day. I may ride again, but for now I will focus on my transition back into the city, on finding a home and reconnecting with friends I used to have. On trying to stay centred, despite the constant change I continually invite into my life. I arrived back here unexpectedly, but then again, expectations have always gotten me into trouble and I am attempting to shed my life of them. I have always loved these simple words of the Dalai Lama: ‘I am open to the guidance of synchronicity, and do not let expectations hinder my path.’

Displaced children of South Darfur