day twenty-one: driving round in circles

There was time on Sunday evening to enjoy some sophisticated dining.  I finally had the chance to show off my marinating skills on our beef fillet - a luxury when it comes from a slaughtered cow as opposed to one that just gave up the ghost.  Our de-mining team swapped pleasantries over some 10 year Talisker; the usual tête-à-tête over maiming blasts and child kidnappings.  It was a fine end to an enjoyable weekend in Juba anyway…

roadside markets provide your arse from much needed relief

This morning however, it was yet another joy to hit the highway from hell…this time with a driver who was determined to treat his land rover like a wild horse needing broken.  You have your own ‘special place’ you go to in a desperate attempt to avoid the nausea but it didn’t save me from the bum and back-breaking adventure I'm yet to accustom to.  The usual sightings of stranded trucks ensued and entertained at least.

but look on the bright side, the back garden's huge...

le discoball

Today’s psychotic driver was sponsored by Catholic Relief Services.  The road was taking another lashing from the rains and many were out on foot.  Many adults watching new rivers take away their homes, children using the opportunity for a spot of fishing.
 
We drive on regardless.  With only 3 passengers, there was leg room to spare.  So you can imagine the guilt felt when passing by a woman of a rather long-standing age carrying a clay pot the size of a disco ball.


As she waved her hand in desperation for the short lift to the nearest town, my colleague from CRS just turned to me, “it’s not in our policy.”  Well don’t you think you should stick that in the acronym somewhere?  ‘Relief Services (Within Our Policy)…it's not that I don't get the rules, but not everyone is a freeloading drunk with an AK, so where did sense of charity and circumstantiation go?

roadside fishing spots are cropping up towards the end of the rainy season

So I'm back in Torit while I wait another week before heading to Khartoum.  Torit didn’t miss me, I didn’t really miss it either.  Could show you more pictures of the rather not-so-glittering capital of Eastern Equatoria but, as my Russian comrade found out, pulling out your iPhone for a quick pic of the kids taking their chairs back from school is not recommended.  Nope, that’s just a guaranteed method to signal to national security members lazing in the streets that you’re a spy for sure.  Referendum paranoia in full effect.  Once the head of security had stopped our vehicle and finished going through every one of his photos however, it was alright to settle down.  How do you say ‘panoramic’ in Sudanese Arabic?

You mean this photograph officer?