Entry No. 5 is a continuation of Entry No. 4, covers our departure from Addis to our arrival at the hotel in Juba, Southern Sudan.
By the time I got back to the apartment it was 9:00 p.m. and my companions had retired to their rooms. I checked the clothes that were drying. They were damp and packing them would have to wait for morning. I passed into my bedroom and prepared for the departure; set the alarm for 6:30 a.m.; turned on the boob tube; watched movies until 4:00 a.m.; then slept until the alarm sounded. Such is my nature when travelling.
Simon and Kevin were up, packed, and eager for breakfast when I greeted them in the living room. We lugged our bags down six flights of stairs to the foyer, took our places at a large round community table and ordered off the menu. Porridge was my choice which for some reason I enjoy at this time of my life. We all ordered our demi-tasse of coffee with instructions for a second round when the first was gone. Three Europeans shared the table with us but all being typical males in the morning, we mumbled initial pleasantries then kept our thoughts to ourselves through breakfast. Our clean laundry arrived right on time at the front desk where we made our way after that second cup of glorious coffee. We completed packing in the foyer and Dejene who had been waiting patiently outside proceeded to load our luggage in the trunk and on the roof rack. After I paid the bill we all piled into the overloaded little yellow vehicle and we were off to the airport.
Dejene is delightful fellow, always positive, resourceful and attentive to his clients. I noted during the previous week that he checked the fluid levels of his cab and cleaned the outside and interior at every opportunity. He was one of a small minority who had found a niche, worked it and was making an acceptable living. I concluded that he was the perfect taxi driver as he expertly weaved our way through the heavy morning traffic.
The traffic in Addis is typically a sea of blue cabs similar in make to the Ladas of the early 70’s, blue mini-buses and commercial trucks – very few private vehicles. In contrast to Dejene’s vehicle, most of the blue taxies appear old, tired and in generally poor shape. I have ridden in them and can testify that some require at the very least a serious tune up. The interiors often are decorated according to the taste of the owner, trimmed with artificial fur, bobbing head characters on the dash and a religious ornament strung from the rear view mirror. The continuous flow of traffic is intermittent at peak times because stop signs and stop lights are all but non-existent and round-a-bouts can only be described as large scale bumper car entertainment with occasional serious consequences.
We arrived at the airport terminal, unloaded, paid the fare with a generous tip and bid farewell to Dejene who declared, “You are part of my family!” I will keep his card for my next visit, after all - we are related.
We cleared the first security check point when we exited the parking lot. Just inside the terminal we went through the metal detector and baggage check. Then we learned that we had been dropped off at the terminal for local flights. Apparently, Dejene was slightly less than perfect but then, nobody is, especially family. It was only a short walk to the adjacent international terminal where we endured the entrance security process once more.
We then made our way to the check in desk. All seemed to be going smoothly until …… until the lady processing our documents stated that we did not have an entry visa for Southern Sudan. Indeed that was true. I explained that Southern Sudan did not have an embassy in Canada through which we could obtain a visa. Although Southern Sudan had voted through a referendum in early January for independence from the rest of Sudan, the Sudan Embassy was still handling entry visa applications for those endeavoring to travel to Juba, the soon to be capital of the new country of Southern Sudan. The curt response, “One moment, I will check with someone who knows.” The higher authority was the woman at the next check in desk. After a short discussion the boarding passes were issued. A few steps away was the next blockade. I am not sure but I believe the purpose was to confirm that travelers had not stayed beyond the time limit of their visas. No worries there. Regardless, our documents were acceptable and we proceeded further towards the inner sanctum.
We met a fellow Canadian in the lounge, a singular, sparse oasis, for a cool drink prior to the final security scan. She recognized us from our passports that we had out in anticipation of needing them shortly. Candice Dandurand had a diplomatic passport and was on her way to Juba to give a presentation concerning diplomatic relations once Southern Sudan formally declared its sovereignty. Neat job!
We endured the last security check including both the scan and the x-ray of our carry-on before we settled down to continue our conversation with Candice in the departure area. Next month I was planning to go to Nigeria. She had spent time there and cautioned me about scams and security … She described it as an “iffy place.”
We were called to board and eventually made our away across the tarmac to one of Air Ethiopia’s new fleet of Bombardier’s prop planes. These were a great improvement over the smaller aircraft on which Ouvry and I had travelled in 2007.
On boarding and making our way to seats, Kevin and I found them occupied. Overbooked? The flight attendants appeared confused and in a state of disbelief. “How could this have happened?” The head steward eventually took charge, confirmed our boarding passes, and directed us to the business section. When we were seated he informed us in a stern tone that we would be eating economy class food and no free drinks. Fine by me – at least we were on the flight.
Our journey went smoothly enough and I think we all snoozed a little in the comfort of the air–conditioned cabin.
We disembarked roughly two hours later onto the tarmac that radiated heat -HOT IN JUBA. The terminal was no less than chaotic and no air conditioning. Fifty sweating travellers were penned shoulder to shoulder waiting to get their visas stamped, collect their luggage and have it searched for contraband. Kevin saw his baggage first and pushed through the layers of humanity to lift it up on the bench to be inspected. My luggage arrived shortly after. The security officer’s eyes widened when he came across the wad of bills I was carrying in my man bag. He simmered down when he recognized them as Ethiopian Birr and not U.S. dollars. Birr have no value in Southern Sudan. You could not exchange them anywhere for SP, Sudanese pounds, if your life depended on it. The U.S. dollar reigns supreme.
Simon and his camera equipment cleared without even the raising of an eyebrow – go figure. However, his checked bag was missing; Candice’s checked bag was missing also. Simply, if there is not enough room or the load is overweight, baggage will be delivered the next available day. By this time the arrivals area was just about deserted and I had not seen our contact, Thok Pal. Thok is an administrative assistant with the Ministry of Health, Government of Southern Sudan (GOSS). It was my understanding he would pick us up and had arranged rooms at the University that were less expensive than those of the Sahara Hotel where I had stayed previously for $175 U.S., cash only, per day.
No Thok to greet us, and no one else for that matter. We tracked down a taxi driver who happened to be the same driver I had the last time I visited. Gido was his name. A young man of an entrepreneural nature with a well maintained car. His rate was $20.00 U.S. to take us to our hotel.
Gido had no idea about a hotel at the university. He was kind enough to phone several telephone numbers that Thok had provided me by e-mail. The last one worked. Thok was not in Juba; he explained he was in the field for personal reasons and could not meet us. He informed me that he had arranged transport from the airport but that obviously had gone awry. He apologized and directed Gido to the location of the hotel where he had secured reservations. I figured our chances of actually having rooms reserved were about 50:50 and I was anxious.
We left the dirt parking lot of the airport, drove onto the hard top and through the centre of town. In contrast to Addis most of the vehicles on the roads of Juba appeared to be privately owned cars & SUV’s, commercial trucks and small motorcycles. The taxis are unmarked and relatively expensive.
We circled the roundabout with the tower that had displayed the now non-functioning digital countdown of the days, hours and minutes to the referendum for independence back in January. Traffic was flowing well as we drove by the government buildings. I spotted the university compound. We were close. We turned off the asphalt road onto a dirt lane and Juba took on a third world village atmosphere with stalls and small homes made out of mud brick and assorted planks and rusting corrugated steel roofs.
The taxi pulled up to an 8 foot concrete block wall with an open solid metal door. Looking up over the wall you could see the second level of a two storey building with aquamarine sheet metal siding and the sign, “The Afro Asian Business Center Ltd.” It looked nothing like a hotel. While the luggage was being unloaded on faith that we indeed did have rooms, I paid Gido the negotiated fare in Sudanese pounds, 60 of them. Gido agreed to wait.
I entered through the opening and asked the uniformed guard to direct me to the manager. When I met Mr. Kuber, I expected him to say there were no rooms available… but there were indeed reserved two rooms, a double and a single for $80 and $50 per night.
Looking back, it was decent accommodation for 5 days. The structure was rectangular with a small courtyard within. Kevin and Simon shared a room on the ground floor at the front and my room was also on the ground floor, accessible through the courtyard. Appropriate power bars were provided, wireless internet was always available, the rooms were cleaned daily and there was around the clock security. Each bed had a new mosquito net with a light frame that gave the occupant a sense of spaciousness within. The power remained on 99% of the time with the support of two high capacity generators droning loudly, 24-7, across the lane outside a Chinese restaurant. Consequently, the air conditioning was always on which made sleeping under the bed net bearable and my CPAP machine, without which a good sleep is impossible, stayed on through the night.
The Chinese restaurant across the alley became the sole source for our meals. It was under the same ownership as our hotel and breakfast there, was included with the price of the room.
While we were unloading, Thok phoned Gido to say that he had arranged an appointment with Dr. Sampson Baba, the Director General of the GOSS Ministry of Health and I was to meet him right away.
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