CONCLUSION: FOR NOW

According to my parents, this is the first thing I should have done when I got back to the states (before such necessities as petting the dog/enjoying a really tall glass of pasteurized milk/taking a hot shower, etc) but clearly, its March and I'm only just now getting around to it. Conclusion: we have different priorities. Also I'm lazy, but that one has been on the table for a while. 

So. Conclusions!

To begin with, anyone who tells you that it is easy to transition from one place to another is a complete liar. Going home was initially so different that it didn't seem related to the trip at all. I fell right back into the same old routines (drinking lots of wine, sleeping all the time, being generally unhelpful around the house and buying tons of useless crap). To be fair, I was disproportionately offended by concepts such as vanity plates, customized credit cards ($200 dollar fee!) and gadgets like grapefruit sectioners (Who needs that? Its like a triangular stapler for fruit! Why?!) but it was still astonishingly easy to fall back into the habits of shopping indiscriminately.

Panic kicked in pretty quickly. I wont lie, the first roasted, succulent, incredibly engorged chicken I ate was pure heaven, but certain things (like wearing seat belts) just had to be relearned. Additionally, I realized that I didn't want to live in the US anymore. In Sudan, I felt encouraged (some could say shamed) into being the best version of myself, willing and ready to try and do everything for myself like everyone else around me. I wasn't always, but I at least felt compelled to try. I felt like I was capable of almost anything-clearly not true, and dangerously close to the illusions of grandeur suffered by so many historical (white, racist, condescending) people before me. But what I'm trying to get at is that, while in the US, I was always being told (or made to feel) like I couldn't do things (because I was a girl/a weakling/not coordinated enough/not athletic enough/not experienced enough, etc), in Sudan there was no one else to take up the slack, so I just did it myself. Interesting that I felt more free in Sudan, and somewhat indicative of the perils of going to a country where you are so outside the culture as to be off on the fringes and thus endowed with a completely irrational perception of freedom. Also highly isolating. Just being able to be independent in a country like that (because of race, money, privilege, etc) is unusual, and not at all the experience of anyone actually LIVING in Sudan. There is attendant guilt-i promise

Anyway the point is, I felt less restricted, and less self conscious in Sudan, and coming back to frenetic America was hard. The biggest factor in that was actually how much I missed everyone, and how much I missed the routine, the people, the place. The quick jump from Sudan to Kenya to home to college at least helped me compartmentalize the experience, so that I wasn't wallowing in a pool of self pity the whole time. However, the fact that I wanted to be back in Sudan so badly ultimately resulted in me feeling transient and completely unmoored from my surroundings at school. My room felt temporary, my classes felt like optional distractions, my friends felt distant. That took some work to get over.

I also discovered how much I hate talking about my experiences to most people. Primarily its because it feels spectacularly pretentious, but also because there aren't good words to describe it, particularly concise yet expressive words. Its one of those instances where if you can't describe it accurately, you don't really want to describe it at all. I was (and am) much more comfortable working on my Kahn Project (which I changed completely to be about disarmament and arms control policies in Southern Sudan) and expressing myself in writing than telling stories or having deep conversations about what I had lived through. The latter felt tired, boring and strangely condescending. 

My Kahn project was probably my life raft. It was a way for me to be connected to what I did over the summer, to think and synthesize experiences and information and keep one foot in the Sudan part of me (if you can call it that). It was also really interesting to see the new ways that I approached my education and my academic goals and objectives. Whereas before, graduating seemed important because people told me it was, now graduating was the means to the end of getting back to Sudan and being able to do more than just wander around in a broken down car, periodically making spread sheets and bickering in the kitchen over net distribution strategies. Additionally, the way I thought about the ideas being presented to me in my classes was really different from previous semesters, and gave me a whole bunch of insights that I would never have had otherwise (nonetheless, I mostly kept them to myself, because starting off any class observation with "When I was in Sudan..." is akin to saying "When I was in Bosnia, rescuing orphan children..." or "When I was in Uganda, single handedly saving the rare Silver-backed Gorilla..." and really, who wants to listen to that girl? NO ONE)

And then, "these economic times" hit with a vengeance, and I finally realized that getting back to Sudan this summer (the ultimate goal) was so clearly not even remotely possible, and I sank into a funk for a while and felt like a failure, and had a long drawn out fight with the Department of International Study, which included a fantastically rude exchange with the Dean of International Study (rude on her part not mine). And then! The goddess that is Stacie Hagenbaugh at the Career Development Office revealed to me the silver lining! I could work at arms control/conflict research institutes (abroad!) and develop the contacts and connections needed to make my dream of post-graduate research in Sudan up to the referendum a distinct possibility. Even more fantastic, this opened up the possibility of an Honors Thesis with actual solid research to back it up. So this plan, at least, has given me a purpose and a drive separate from my Kahn research and encouraged me to get out of my hole periodically to work towards something that could actually be successful and helpful.

And speaking of that, here is the real update part: The nets that we worked so so hard to get should be arriving at the end of this month. The first batch coming in are specifically aimed at Budi County, and may even potentially be able to be stored in Eastern Equatoria (rather than in Juba) depending on our ability to locate a 40ft container. This means that even though PSI didn't put out its Call for Proposal until September, and even though we didn't fully get an entire draft of an application written, and even though bureaucracy seemed to be winning, the whole point of the summer was actually successful. While originally it was thought that the nets wouldn't arrive until the next rainy season (2010) they are actually here in time for the 2009 rainy season, which is going to make such an incredible difference. This is a long way from being a huge success, but its small incremental progress that I wasn't even sure we would be able to make. It somewhat reaffirms my faith in ...trying, I guess. 

I've managed to keep in touch with a fair amount of people in Sudan considering that I lost pretty much everyone's email (sorry Mary and Grace!). As far as I know, Abby got married in December. Lucy is in Torit, but no longer working at the compound because she had to leave briefly to take care of her sick mother and by the time she came back the position was filled. Abby also no longer works at the compound, and neither does Beatrice, but I think that both of them are doing pretty well (I hope I hope I hope). Father Herald managed to come back and spend an extended amount of time in Torit, and hes currently living at the compound again. Father Vuni is a saint as always. Jerome may be able to meet up with Ed and Teddy in Rwanda in April (where they will be visiting my cousin (Ed's daughter) Elizabeth, who is teaching there for a year. Mark and Edith had their baby, a little boy named Edmond Odego. Margaret, the wonderful lady from Loki who gave me those beautiful dresses, is now working in Torit (though still simultaneously managing things in Loki-an incredible woman!) Sister Helen and the nuns in Isoke all seem to be doing well, though Sister Helen's brother recently died. This, pretty much, is what I know about the people I've been able to keep in touch with. 

So this is my update. Since everything I'm working towards now still deals with Sudan, I may keep this blog going with updates from this summer, though those will be considerably less interesting. I will however definitely keep it posted about the progress of the nets, medicines and health system strengthening systems, because there WILL be progress and that is probably one of the most exciting things that has ever happened to me.