Living on the Edge

Swedish Camp
Juba, S Sudan

When I left for Sudan, I fully expected to stay late hours at work. That was not only because I would be inundated with work, but also the fact that the office had air-conditioning. I had been told by the Admin lady (Ditas from now on) that the office had people staying late for just that reason. So like any other person from a tropical climate, I assumed that I naturally will only have a partially working table fan at the camp, if that ... and it would create an awful din if the speed was turned up ... and so we'd have to be sitting outdoors in sinking-chairs-that-are-hard-to-get-out-of after sunset, in order to cool ourselves down ... and the only recourse would be to fan ourselves with these large dried palm leaves that would also double as scratching devices for when the mosquitoes bit us ... because of course there were going to be mosquitoes, or why else did I buy all that industrial-grade insect spray ... and all in all it would appear to be like a lazy vacation complete with drinks-with-bent-straws and all that but - like Cox's Bazaar beach where we vacationed as kids - it would be unbelievably deceptive because with nightfall there would only be the lingering heat and the invasion of mosquitoes. I was sure that it would be more pain than it was worth - but determined to make the most of the 'experience' and realizing that this time my parents would not be around to buy me one more shell with my name carved on it everytime I threw a tantrum, I armed myself with chemical products to cool, protect, soothe, relieve, alleviate, massage, relax and heal the most treacherous of all skin discomforts. Basically I was fortified for the outdoors, because Ditas made it sound like the camp was literally hanging from a tree, and suspended over marshland. But I digress - my point was that I imagined that the office would be the only familiar, comfortable environment.


Its probably good that this is my first time in this environment. My mind had been on such an overdrive on how critical the living conditions were going to be, that without a frame of reference, I'd imagined a daily obstacle course. I'm sure some of you did for me too, and its all fair because if I weren't affiliated with a UN body (that aligns everything to first-world standards) I would probably have been hanging from a hammock with crocodiles snapping at my starved bottom. No no, I joke. The NGOs here have equally decent set-ups!!


When I received my offer email, it contained an overview of the offer. Which was nothing. Nada. Zip. Kaput. They were not going to pay me anything, offer no allowances, give no benefits, subscribe me to no insurance, and bear no travel or vacation costs. I was a free operator. I thought great! This is what I want to do with my life!

... for some time at least. What intrigued me most and sent some of my friend on spiraling jokes is UNHCR's offer to offer me a reservation in their "tented accomodations ... ". Hmm, I thought, so you could reserve tents these days? That was brilliant! Took one thing off my checklist that was yards long. And they said that if it was with SOLAR, then it was $15 a day, and without was $5 a day.


Wasting no time, and expending absolutely no effort in researching what SOLAR may or may not be, I reserved the $5/day tented accomodations. Hooo boy! This will be fun, I thought.

---


From the Juba airport, they drove me straight to the camp - formally known as Swedish Camp - and showed me around briefly. I gathered that there were four or more large tents and several smaller tents, and food and resting facilities. Jocelyn, my greeter then showed me my tent and gave me a key. "Key?" I thought ... oh well, I have to see this.


We walked towards the tent, and she pulled open the door. Yes door, there's a metal lockable door to the tent. That isn't usually locked though because there are no security issues. Along the center of the tent was a corridor that is flanked on both sides by two rooms each. The key was actually to the section of my tent - my room. It pretty much conformed to my expectations - multiple people to each tent, four in this case, but I never thought that the rooms would be divided as they are.
Everything is white tarpaulin, and the door basically zips up, and locks like a suitcase. I couldn't stop grinning when I saw it. We left my things, locked up my room and headed out to the office.

I got a longer orientation to the Swedish camp that evening. The compound is encircled with bamboo/wood walls. The car parking is at the entrance, followed by the bathrooms, then the mango trees, then the laundry tents, then the mango trees, then the volleyball courts, then a scattering of smaller tents, then the common area called Rakuba, a traditional thatched-roof compartment, then the dining tent, then some more mango trees and then the other sleeping tents like mine. The camp is also in a mangrove orchard I realized! The resident canine is called Play, who decided not to play with but bite my jeans, and when I shooed it away, it went away to eat some of the fallen mangoes quite resignedly.

A couple of ripe mangoes splattered on the ground as I walked. The entire place smelt ... mango-ey. I think I need to come up with an adjective for mango-smelling because that's what this place smells like.

The Rakuba is just the most wonderful thing. At any given point in time there will be at least one person, generally tall, dozing, male and Kenyan who would be watching football on tv. Oh yes, we have cable. While I'm quite used to seeing Christiane Amanpour reporting on Lebanon in the mornings now, breakfast the first day was completely surreal because I couldn't pour milk straight into my cereal when I realized I was eating cornflakes and watching satellite tv. Let me tell you, my assumptions are being questioned everyday. It is not a pleasant feeling.

Breakfast is usually taken in the open Rakuba because now the weather is so good. I suppose its good throughout the year because once monsoon is over it'll be the same but cooler. Lunch is taken at the office, and dinner is back at the camp, except in the dining tent. The maids/helping hands cook the food. They lay out all the meals ... and they clean up ... this is just too much luxury. If we want, we can even have them do our laundry. I protested vehemently against it and I insisted that I'll do my own laundry if I'm shown where everything is. A few minutes ago, I even walked into the laundry tent but that was pretty much it. I saw many people's piles of laundry, completed, and IRONED. I needed no further encouragement. I'm getting my clothes back - ironed - tomorrow afternoon. I am sure I'm generating employment in some indirect way.

*Yawn* ... I'm sitting here in my room, wondering whether the generator isn't working properly. The air-conditioning is slow today. (Oh yes, the tents have air-conditioning. And they are completely shielded from flying insects so no repellents needed after dark.) I complain only about the air-conditioning and the fact that the windows don't let enough sunlight in - but I supposed that's for our security.

I cannot imagine what the $15/day 'pre-fabs' must be like. They probably have jacuzzis. =)