son finds kitten in Daarfur

I’ve traveled out to Umdukhun on my first trip back to Darfur . My journey here began on a MI-8 helicopter from Nyala, the capital of South Darfur State . During the pre-flight briefing, the engineer stated that we’d be flying at 1000 feet. When he finished and asked if there were any questions, I thought I’d take the opportunity to clarify the altitude (out of curiosity). From the captains seat in the cockpit a thick eastern European accent asked “What altitude do you want to fly at? Today is customer chooses day so its up to you”. I responded but apparently MI-8’s don’t have enough oxygen to make 30,000 feet.

My colleague, a Tajik man in his fifties with several grandchildren returned from one of the schools he was overseeing with a small kitten the children there had given him. Truth be told, the little black-haired furball is probably too young to be separated from her mother but that was long since done. He thought it would be a good idea to have the cat around to look after the insect problem and deal with any snakes in the compound. I asked if a name had been chosen before proposing that we name her “Mugur”; after a Romanian colleague who recently left after he spent nearly 2 ½ years around Darfur . We both get a kick out of hearing the other one calling “Here Mugur, come for your milk. Good girl”. Despite my insistence that foreigners should not domesticate animals, creating dependency then leave; I must admit that Mugurs demands for replacement powdered milk (because the last batch was funner to knock over than actually consume) generally get two grown-men up away from their work to tend to immediately. Oh, she’s not completely black-haired since a curious spout with a freshly painted white door altered her appearance. We’re all getting a little greyer out here though. Our Sudanese colleagues either think its terribly fun or we’re both off our rockers. Jury still out on that one.

It had rained the day prior which results in a bug/insect free-for-all. They were absolutely everywhere. We’d gone to play volleyball and returned just after dusk. When I went to shower I discovered dozens of them attacking the light and right then vowed never again to shower after sundown when I needed to use the light. In my bedroom, I was horrified to discover that, with the mosquito net only partly down, several colonies of ants, flying things I’d never seen before and of course the inevitable mosquitos had made their way around the lack security of the net to be underneath it with little chance of being able to escape even if they choose to. Thankfully we still had power so I turned the fan on high, lifted the net and shook the bedsheets. I was glad I brought a ‘sleepsack’ into which I could completely retreat, though I did take notice of a few visitors walking up my leg.

Early the following morning, as the roosters began their morning routine, I decided that the rooster-call setting I have on my phone alarm needs to change. I can get back to sleep each morning only after convincing myself its not the electronic thing but the real thing (those birds really do a grand impression of a Nokia).

Sunday I went out to a new camp, Jeddid with probably over 9,000 people who have only arrived since the start of June. Most are from Darfur with a handful of refuges from Central African Republic . To get there, we walked through the market to the wadi (a normally dry channel which becomes a river during seasonal rainy periods). There we took a raft constructed with probably one cubic-meter of sticks and fastened with rope to get across to the other side. After we crossed the wadi, we took a ride on a horse-drawn cart through thick mud then walked for about 20-30 minutes to the main part of the camp.

Today we visited a slaughter-area; set up by another agency to provide a common area for people to butcher goats. We’re digging a pit (royal we here… ) for the remains (for hygienic purposes. I guess I’ve never watched an animal get slaughtered so it was an interesting experience. As the goats took up to a minute to ‘expire’, I found it interesting how the other goats so camly waited about. Okay, the few that were tied up were pretty much committed but several weren’t and I began to think these few, free-to-run-for-it goats were pretty much the least-briefed on the outcome animals in existence. “Hey, where’s Bill? He was here a second ago. Oh- he’s over there with a knife on his throat…”