Kimotong

Catching up again.

Tuesday, July 22, 2008
We were supposed to leave immediately for Kimotong today to distribute 500 nets, but Jerome checked the car and noticed that our Pajero was in really bad condition. Our brakes were annihilated, and we needed fixing. So even though we got prepared early that morning, sent out our emails, contacted whoever we needed to, printed the flipcharts, and collected the nets from the Bishop’s, we needed to stay in Torit until the car got better. So George and Jerome went to the auto shop, Emma later joined them when she wanted to go to the market with Lucy, and I stayed behind to do a little reading. They did not get back until late at night, which made me worry. But they told me the car repairing took forever, and we were now ready to leave the next day.

Wednesday, July 23, 2008
We left the compound at about 7:30 in the morning, but first we needed to stop by the auto shop and finish something additional with the brakes. Once we got more bread for the road and restocked on fuel from the Hass station, we left Torit at about 9:30. The ride to Kimotong is about 4 hours, but along the way we heard this loud “POP!”, and found that our tire busted. So we spent an hour changing the destroyed tire for the one we patched up in Pageri because our jack kept falling over. We were dead afraid the car would fall on Jerome’s body. Not only that, we saw that our fuel tank was leaking in three spots under the car. Oh no. Once we got the tire done, we had to set off again and pray that nothing else happened to our tires because we no longer had a spare…or to anything else with the car.

About 40 minutes away from Kimotong, a man in a pink shirt stopped us for a ride. There was a branch in front of our path that we could not pass unless someone removed it for us, so we let him in and he took away the branch. The guy sat right next to me, with an AK-47 on his lap, and I could not help staring at it the rest of the way to Kimotong. It was the closest I had ever been to a gun, so I could not take my eyes off it. We find out that he is a soldier. Last time we drove on this road, we saw herds of cattle crossing our path, but this time we saw a whole troop of walking SPLA soldiers whom the man shouted and waved to.

The instant we arrived in Kimotong, my stomach literally just plunged. Emma and I hate this place. We were terrified that the crazy man would find us again and never let us go. Fortunately this time, hundreds of children did not surround our car and prevent us from reaching where we needed to go. We met Peter Lomong (finally), and waited until he was ready to have a meeting with us. He offered us food to eat, but we politely refused, and he showed us the bags of Arabic gum around the room. The community was making a new project out of collecting Arabic gum from the sap of their trees and selling it off for a source of income. It was a good idea because this gum is an ingredient for so many things.

He took us to his office, and we told him our plans for the distribution the next day. We hoped that he would bring all the people he registered so that we could get these nets out to everyone. We then hauled the massive bundles of nets from the inside of our trunk and dropped them over to their storehouse.

We left immediately for Isoke, where we were planning to sleep for the night. But we left with the soldier, a man on the top of our roof, and two women with babies who all requested a ride to the nearest town, Camp 15. Squashed in the back seat of the car, I was so happy when they all got out. When we were getting closer to Isoke, we saw grey clouds hovering over the mountains and knew that it was going to rain. It was a pretty cool, terrifying sight. The clouds were coming together and the fog looked like it was about to swallow the mountains. Darkness was setting in from above. It was something out of a movie…like Twister. But the road was bad news. It was muddier than we ever saw it before, the water overflowed, and the ditches were deep. In one of the potholes the Pajero desperately struggled to climb out of, the water was so deep that it started to seep inside the trunk of our car. Even though the tires kept running, the car was stuck. When Jerome attempted to reverse and take the other fork around the puddle, we made it through with less difficulty.

Our car was dying. We reached Isoke and placed buckets underneath the car so we could recover the diesel we were losing. We dropped off our belongings in the Brothers compound and went to eat at the Sisters’. It was pouring rain, and it would not stop for hours. This is just what I remembered monsoon season to be like, except that it was not humid. I saw Emmanuel and his crew at dinner, and sent my condolences to Moses. Then we went back to the Brothers’, washed up, and slept because we needed to leave early for Kimotong.

Thursday, July 24, 2008
Although we woke up at 7 AM to leave, George and Jerome went off for about 2 hours to do some more work on the car. We promised Peter that we would be at Kimotong at about 9 AM, but we were already late. When we finally headed off, the tire we replaced started to make noise in the back of the car. So we stopped again to check it. The brakes on that tire were not working, and George and Jerome worked on sealing off the brake fluid going to that tire so that we did not lose any more of it. We spent about another hour, hour and half doing that. We were definitely late for this distribution. We drive off, and Jerome notices that the brakes in the car no longer work. He has to jam the whole weight of his body onto the brake pedal for it to work just a little bit, so he slows down.

We arrive in Kimotong at about 1 PM, about 4 hours late for the distribution. When we drive in, we see clusters of women and their babies sitting restlessly beneath the trees. They were all waiting for us to arrive since the morning, and we delayed them. I was very impressed at the turnout, but I felt absolutely terrible and guilty for making these poor women, who had to walk miles to get here, wait for us to show up. We had hoped that Peter Lomong had started the distribution without us, but he had not. To make matters worse, it started to rain.

So we hurry off, meet with Peter Lomong and the chiefs of the 8 bomas, and they take us to an open building that would shelter the community from the rain. The leaders are all there, and we sit next to them even though we initially refuse to take their chairs away from them. Slowly and loudly, the women and children enter the building and sit on the floor to face us. The men stand or sit around the periphery, trying to settle the women down even though their commands are stifled by the rain. Eventually Peter Lomong gets up to speak, and the crowd quiets down. He makes us introduce ourselves, and then translates for us in Boya. Then using the flip chart, George speaks about the importance of the nets and how to maintain them. We were originally supposed to educate people in small groups, but we did not want them to get more restless. Plus, this was more convenient.

Eventually it stops raining, and we get the heavy bundles of nets out the storehouse. We bring it outside to where all the women have lined up and crowded around. The brother of Lopez Lomong (the Olympic runner) reads off the list of names for women to come up and receive their nets. The chiefs who stood by us would confirm whether the name corresponded with the woman coming up to us. George, Emma, and I took turns handing out the nets, but then when they went off to get more of the nets, I took up the job of standing out in the sun and giving out the nets to the women for the rest of the time we were there. At times I would have to look up to the leaders who did not speak English because they would gesture to me about whether the woman they were calling was still there. Because we arrived late, most of the women left in the morning thinking we were not going to come. So oftentimes no one would answer or come up when we called off a name. For those who weren’t there, we created another pile of nets to give it to them the following day. It was a long, slow process, and there were about three men who came up to me begging me to hand them a net when it was not their turn. One man kept harassing me, and the police officer nearby grabbed him away from me. Some women would come up pretending to be the person whose name was called, but then the leaders would recognize the face and gesture that I not give the net to that person. I tell you, I was so happy the chiefs were there. Having them lead the process and run the distribution made me realize how effective it is to have community health workers who understand the local language and the people. I was really proud of them. In the end, we distributed 240 out of the 500 nets, and we told Peter Lomong to distribute the rest tomorrow even if we were not there.

It was the greatest thing to see women carrying the nets over their heads as we passed them on the road. Even if this RFP does not come out before we leave, I am satisfied that we have left some mark here.

In the middle of the distribution, Jerome told us to take a break and eat the chicken he cooked for us. He bought two chickens for 6 pounds total! So cheap! I never tasted a chicken so flavorful since the time we ate at the Ethiopian restaurant in Juba. Who knew Jerome, our driver, could cook so well? It was really good. By the time we finished, the leaders told us they were done with the distribution. We said our goodbyes to the chiefs who were still there, Lopez Lomong’s family, and of course, Peter Lomong. By the end of the day, I started to like Kimotong. Even the crazy guy helped us. He carried the nets from the storehouse and passed them to me.

We soon had to leave. A pregnant lady wanted a ride from us to Torit, but with the condition of our car, we did not want to be liable for any injuries that might happen to her on the road. And thank god we did not bring her. Emmanuel promised to drop off fuel for us at Camp 15 because we had a quarter of a tank left, but when we got to the town, there was no fuel. We found a Father Alfred who helped us out and gave us 2 jerry cans of fuel. Although we eventually passed Emmanuel on the road, it was too late by then. We continued driving, but literally about 15 kilometers away from Torit, our car breaks down. Of all the things we thought would give us a problem, we never thought the radiator would overheat. Our battery was also close to dying. We waited by the side of the road, waiting for the radiator to cool down. We poured water on it, but it started to spill underneath the car and we lost all our water. Using the duct tape from our med kit, we taped up the bottom of the radiator so it didn’t spill any more fluid. But we had no water left, so George used his mouth to siphon out anti-freeze liquid from one of the car tanks and direct it over the radiator. I couldn’t believe George was so willing.

When we started up the car, it ran for a good 10 kilometers. And then it stopped. We counted down the number of kilometers left on the road by tracking the GPS, but it was excruciating. With each kilometer, we held our breaths and prayed that we could make it to the next. But about 6 kilometers away from Torit, our car completely stopped. We had no more water and no airtime on our phones. So we made the decision that George and Jerome walk to town for water, while Emma and I remained locked inside the car, in the dark. We did not dare to get out of the car while they were away. They left at about 11:30 PM, and they did not come back until an hour and a half later. Emma and I dozed off in the backseat of the car, and then we jumped to the sound of loud banging on our windows…but it was just them. They walked the whole distance, but all the shops were closed, so they went to the compound and woke up Father Vuni. Father Vuni let us use his car to tow ours back to the compound. So with a rope, we tied our car bumper to his car, and his driver slowly pulled us to the compound.

It was about 1:30 AM when we reached the gate, and we were all dead tired. But literally a few meters away from the gate, the rope snaps and we stop. So George, Jerome, and Emma push the car inside the compound while I steer. But I was so tired that I kept pushing against the brakes of the car. Luckily the brakes do not work. When we got the car inside the compound, we instantly jolted out of it, took our luggage, and flopped on our beds. Our poor Pajero lasted through so much. And now it was completely gone.