I feel
like I am skimming the surface of South Sudanese “culture” or the amalgamation
of beliefs and behaviors of the country’s 60 plus ethnicities that are now
encompassed by the term “South Sudanese”.
In the work that I’m doing, and as an ex-pat in the country, some
aspects of lifestyle and culture are glimpsed, but many others are not apparent. A comment frequently made by South Sudanese people
I encounter is, “In our culture, we must have many children.” Through various dialogues about the social
expectations of men, women, couples and families, as well as conversations
about who can make the decision to use contraception, there are also explicit
and implicit references to the limited autonomy and power of women in the face
of male authority (in short, gender inequality). The decision whether to use contraception or
not is generally considered a husband’s decision, or a couple’s decision (which
seems to act more as a euphemism for the former); this said, I have heard of
men who want their wives to use contraception, and their wives have refused. The reality behind the conversations is
glimpsed through the size of families, the daily responsibilities of women
(think, a woman cooking while breastfeeding, with a baby on her back, a young
child running around the yard, while a couple more are at school, and she’s 23),
and female clients who return to our service providers to remove their contraceptive
IUD or implant because their husbands found out they had it. The socio-cultural elements that people
outside of South Sudan talk about – the payment of bride price, the link
between cattle and identity, the practice of early marriage, polygamy – exist,
but to varying degrees. In some areas
among some people, they are taken for granted; in other areas among other
people, they are outdated or have been abandoned; in many places, they are
shifting and transforming, being simultaneously encouraged, discouraged,
adapted by different pressures and pulls, visions and fears. Some say the change correlates with different
generations, which others say is a proxy for exposure to formal education,
external influence, and alternative economic opportunities. But every state in South Sudan (there are 10)
differs from the other; each has its own complexities and primary concerns;
here in Central Equatoria, these issues are topics of discussion and stimulus
for debate (lunchtime conversations among my co-workers) and I have met some
strong women and men who advocate for women’s empowerment and their right to
choose when to have children, but in the rest of the country it may be a
completely different story.
Even
within Juba, there are places where you feel like you are miles away from it. The neighborhood where I live is one of those
places (funnily, it actually is considered “very far”, even though it’s only
about 10 minutes from the city center).
Juba has some large markets, but most of the food is actually imported
from Uganda, even though South Sudan has very fertile land, especially on the
banks of the Nile, where Juba is located.
The government has yet to invest in domestic food production or to build
the infrastructure that would provide the incentive (ability to transport crops
to markets) for people to cultivate on a larger scale. People do have small-scale or home gardens,
and the local market near my apartment contains the fruits and vegetables of my
neighbors’ labor. In this neighborhood market,
you can buy everything you need to make a “local” meal – meat (beef or goat is
most available), rice, beans, eggs, lentils, okra, eggplant, tomatoes, potatoes,
leafy greens, onions, garlic, chili, pineapple, salt, sugar, coffee and flour
(for bread or chapati). There’s even samosas
and other fried snacks. It’s not the
most elaborate market but I love it because it’s five minutes from my
doorstep.
The other
day I also discovered that the residential area where I live is much larger
than I realized. The local people who live
here are of the tribe who is originally from the area; or at least they were
settled here before Juba became the country capital. The compounds are large, well-kept (I’m always
impressed by how immaculate a dirt yard can be) and nestled within groves of
trees, which include mango and papaya, with tukuls (traditional houses/huts), gardens,
flowers, goats, and chickens speckled throughout. After winding through the village, one of the
paths leads to a huge meadow smattered with various crop fields, trees, birds,
and the wreckage of an airplane. The
path continues on and on, passing various residential communities along the
way. A completely different atmosphere than the
Land Cruiser honking, boda-boda (motorcycle) zipping, construction filled
hustle and bustle of other parts of town.
A place to talk to people in the local language (attempted) free (to a
degree) from the INGO worker label that is hard to escape and that I feel very
much colors interaction and perception.
I’m immensely enjoying working in
the INGO sector, but it’s also nice to have the chance to just be me in Juba
for the time it takes to walk through my neighborhood.
Here’s a
few other random bits of information about Juba:
- When going through a roundabout or an intersection, if you are going straight, you have to put your hazard lights on.
- People think it is very difficult to pronounce my name.
- One of the nightlife spots is called Sodomy Club.
- You can get good Indian and Thai food in town, and one location has a Mexican food night with surprisingly decent burritos.
- The first national company was a beer manufacturer.
- People don’t trust the South Sudanese currency; they are advocating to be paid in US dollars.
- If a policeman asks you if you know Jackie Chan, and you reply no you don’t, he will not believe you and will decide you don’t know how to speak English.
- There is no national postal service (you can send things here through DHL, but a small size package from the U.S. costs over $900 shipping).
- Officials like to be funny (even if they don’t know they are): My supervisor returned to the country from R&R on a multi-entry visa, and an airport official insisted that “multi-entry” meant one time use only; While my colleague was registering our Country Director at the Immigrations office (yes, the government is making money by requiring every ex-pat in country to register as an ex-pat in country), she was told that she could not register her as Country Director because she was not the director of the entire country.
- At the presidential palace, there are fancy uniformed guards at the entrance gates who stand perfectly still all day long, just like the guards at Buckingham Palace.
All for
now!
