Canamancan Travel Blog Entry No. 6

This Blog Entry covers our remaining time in Juba through to the trip back to Canada.

I left Simon and Kevin to get settled in their room and Gido drove me to the Ministry. Ms. Judy Gitu, Dr. Baba’s executive assistant and guardian to his office entrance, greeted me. This was my third visit to the office. There are three chairs in this outer room usually all occupied by people waiting for an audience. Folks are always coming and going and the most common words spoken are, “Is he in?” and “Dr. Baba is in a meeting.” To his credit, the doctor packs a lot into his day, helping those that he can and addressing most issues quickly. I was pleased to see him on what may have been short notice.

Dr. Samson Baba, Director, Ministry of Health,
GOSS (Nov., 2010)

During my last visit in 2010, Dr. Baba and I discussed the possibility of malaria vector control, specifically mosquito larviciding, as an added component to the current programs to reduce the incidence of malaria. At the time, he was very receptive, stating that the GOSS Health Council recently questioned why vector control was not being done. We discussed registering Pestalto, locations where we could initiate a program and funding sources. The meeting finished with my agreement to provide a letter of intent which would be discussed with his colleagues. However, nothing happened after that - out of sight, out of mind.

My talk on this occasion with the Director was short. I briefly reviewed our last one-on- one discussion and indicated that my current objectives were the registration of the company and a ground review of the community where a vector control program could be conducted. Dr. Baba stated that he would contact a lawyer for advice on how to register the company. He also suggested that Juba would be the best location to do a program. This was contrary to our first agreement. I had indicated that Juba was too large and complex to validate the vector control approach. We had decided upon two villages to the north of Juba, where for comparative purposes vector control would be applied to one and not the other. We touched on financing which also revealed a change in stance from our last meeting. At that time Dr. Baba acknowledged that Pestalto was a “for profit” service provider and he suggested that the Global Fund could be a source of funding for a vector control operation. I was now under the impression that he was steering towards a free demonstration. I reminded him that I was a “compassionate capitalist.”

The occasional knock on the door while we talked was indicative of the growing demand for his attention. My time was up. We would continue the discussion in two days. He was off to Kenya. Kevin, Simon and I would keep ourselves busy familiarizing ourselves with Juba and doing larval sampling.

Gido and I returned to the hotel, I paid him and arranged to meet him the next morning for the tour of Juba. Then I joined Simon and Kevin for Chinese cuisine in the compound across the road.

Over the meal and Tusker beer we discussed the day’s activities. I learned that Kevin had also paid Gido for the ride from the airport to the hotel, 140 Sudanese pounds. So Gido was paid twice, an exorbitant amount by Kevin. Gido did not mention it; I did say he was entrepreneurial. Powers of observation and communication amongst our team were apparently hindered by the issues earlier in the day and I suspected that we were looking like easy marks to Gido.

Our objectives the following day included obtaining a local simm card and minutes so that we could use our cell phone, acquired in Addis, for calls in Juba; exchanging our U.S. dollars for Sudanese pounds; exchanging the U.S. American Express Traveller’s cheques for cash; looking for mosquito larvae and getting GPS coordinates of mosquito larval habitats within Juba.

The first task was easy enough. There are a multitude of vendors walking through the traffic and in stalls along the roads offering cell phone simm cards and time cards at a reasonable price.

The next challenge, exchanging some U.S. cash with money exchangers at their booths along the road. There we learned a rather important lesson. U.S. currency with series numbers older than 2006 were not acceptable and could not be exchanged - roughly a third of our U.S. cash was unusable.

This was followed by a failed attempt to cash the Traveller’s cheques. No bank would take them; believe me we tried. I specifically asked Maggie at BMO when I purchased the cheques if they were accepted tender in Africa. “Why not? The only place you can’t use them is Cuba!” Hmmmm – I would have to enlighten Maggie. I knew from experience that credit cards were useless. I had the option of wiring U.S. funds from Canada using Western Union but that was a hassle. Western Unions are always crowded with long line ups of people dependent on receiving money from friends and relatives abroad. Money was going to be tight but I decided to “sweat it out” over the next few days.

Gido took us to a few wetland areas within the city and indeed we did find some mosquito larvae. A few were Anopheles, the vector for malaria. It was too early to get significant numbers; the rainy season had not started. However, Simon got some good footage of us sampling.

At the end of the day, Gido expected $120 U.S. for his services and indeed this was the going rate. However, we negotiated successfully for a much lower price because of the overpayment the day before.

An early supper consisted of, you guessed, Chinese food and Tusker beer. The serving staff was Sudanese; the management and the cooking staff were Chinese. Mr. Kuber had informed that Chinese accounted for the largest component of foreigners in Southern Sudan. However, the only Chinese that I saw were either working in the restaurant or were customers who we met at the communal breakfast table.

We retired to our rooms and I for one, hit the shower. My bathroom had an open shower (no shower curtain and no pressure but the water was hot), a sink and a toilet sans seat. It was clean and not too much the worse for wear. My quarters were bug free with the exception of a few vampire bugs (mosquitoes) one of which managed to nail me that night while I slept. She probably got in through the opening that I fashioned between the mattress and the bed net for the hose of the CPAP machine. No worries, I was taking my daily dose of Malarone.

After checking e-mails on the internet and working on a blog, I headed out of the compound onto the laneway to make my daily call on the sat phone to my wife. I walked about 50 metres from the hotel to an intersection for a decent signal and to get away from the noise of the generators and the restaurant which became a rowdy bar when the sun went down. The night was dark and that intersection was not the best place to be. Traffic was scarce but vehicles came up fast, stirring up the dust from the dirt road and making visibility poor.

My head cold returned that day with a vengeance and I spent the night hacking. If I could hear the people in the adjacent rooms through the sheet metal walls, no doubt I interfered with their sleep. Sorry!

The next morning Mr. Kuber offered his driver and vehicle to take Kevin and I to meet with the Dr. Baba. We arrived at his office around 9:00 a.m. and the people in the reception room were overflowing into the hallway. Kevin and I found a couple of chairs at the end of the hall and kept our eyes peeled on his door. Within half an hour Dr. Baba emerged and signalled to us to give him a couple of minutes.

The Director had concluded that the most convenient place to run a trial vector control program would be the Kator payam, a municipality within Juba. He would provide us with a driver, a security person and contacts with whom we could discuss the incidence of malaria in Juba and another who would define the boundaries of the payam. Regarding the company registration to conduct business in Southern Sudan, the good doctor had not had time to see a lawyer – understandable; he would call me (the universal put-off?). I left him with the task of following up with the lawyer and he left me with the task of formulating a vector management proposal for Kator payam.

First we were taken to see Dr. Robert Azairwe, Senior Technical Advisor with MSH (Management Sciences for Health) whose address is Arlington, Virginia and Ms. Margaret Lejukole, the Monitoring and Evaluation Officer for the National Malaria Control Program, also with MSH. MSH is significant player as a non-profit health organization. These people were not GOSS employees and we were greeted with suspicion. I explained that we were proponents for vector management as an additional tool for malaria control. It was made clear that we would not receive any information without a formal request. That written request would probably be closely scrutinized and discussed by higher authorities within their organization and probably denied. MSH, like WHO, has not acknowledged that the battle to significantly reduce the impact of malaria must involve the implementation of proven modern vector control techniques. That will happen … with time.

Next we met with Joseph Abeya, a GIS specialist with the United Nations, again not with GOSS. He did provide maps of the City of Juba; however, his office did not know the boundaries of Kator payam. He would be most appreciative if we could supply him with that information. We would do our best.

Off we went; our driver - Jero, our security guard and facilitator – Michael, Kevin with the GPS camera, Simon with camera in hand and me. The first task was to find an authority on the boundaries and then … to define some larval habitats, to see if we could find some Anopheles larvae and to talk with some of the locals. Jero and Michael worked well together and tracked down the head administrator of the payam. That gentlemen was kind enough to interrupt his work (people were lined up in his office also) and outlined the boundary roads on our map.

It took Kevin about two hours to plot the boundary with the GPS camera. These periphery roads are mostly hard top congested with vehicles of every kind, people and livestock and lined with makeshift and permanent stalls and drainage ditches.

The internal roads are dirt laneways with family compounds containing one or more homes. The homes range from “high end” stuccoed cement block with clay roofing tiles to mud huts with thatched roofs. The compound walls are made from concrete block for those that are financially well off and from bamboo or sticks woven together for those who are not. Any garbage in the compounds such as plastic bottles is swept into the laneways to be crushed by passing vehicles and in the rainy season swept down to the creeks and eventually washed into the Bahr El Jebel River. The plastic pollution is mind boggling. Apparently some of this garbage is burned as evidenced by a pervasive acrid odour of burned plastic in the air. The undamaged plastic containers along with abandoned rusting vehicles and tires were suitable artificial habitats for mosquito larvae during the rainy season. A major component of a vector control program would have to be waste management.

The terrain within the payam slopes towards the river and intermittent tributaries. The severe soil erosion due to the high volume of rain in the rainy season is evident from the deep gullies cut into the allies running south and east. Some of these are impassable by car even in the dry season unless you have a high clearance 4-wheel drive vehicle, which we did. Another component of a vector control strategy would have to be flood and drainage management.

We came across an assistant to the chief of a “village” within the payam who was curious about our presence. He described the death from malaria of a pregnant woman who lived adjacent to the flood plain along the creek below. Apparently, prophylactic medical measures are not available to all who need them.


Later we came across a group of mud huts with people outside. We introduced ourselves to Moses who appeared to be the head of the family. We asked him if bed nets were used to prevent malaria. The response was yes on cool nights. So I wasn’t the only one who found it hard to sleep under a bed net when it’s hot and the mosquitoes are active.

Moses' family homes in Kator payam
(Juba, Southern Sudan; March 2011)

Moses (Kator payam, Juba, South Sudan; March, 2011)

Moses showing us his bed net that he doesn't use on
 hot nights (Kator payam, Juba, Southern Sudan; March 2011)

Towards the end of the tour we went down to the Bahr El Jebel River (also known as the Bahr al Jabal – River of the Mountain). This river becomes the White Nile that joins at Khartoum with Blue Nile out of Ethiopia. In Juba the river has significant size even in the dry season. We were told that come the rainy season it rises 20 feet, flooding the surrounding land and creating a substantial acreage of mosquito larval habitat.

A steady flow of water trucks moved to and from its shore. The drone of the gasoline pumps was loud and continuous. The trucks deliver the water to compounds with cisterns for household use with the probable exception of drinking. We observed dug wells with hand pumps when we were inside the payam and these are likely used to obtain drinking water. Cholera is a major killer in Juba and is contracted through contaminated water. There is a connection there somewhere.

Fishermen were relaxing close by mending their nets and on the far side crocodiles were preoccupied with mating and egg laying. Apparently they are a little testy at this time of year. Fishing in dugouts is not for the faint of heart.

We made our way back to the hotel and shared a meal with our new friends who agreed to take us to the airport the next day.

I had not received a call from Dr. Baba so I phoned Judy to see if there was any word –negatory. Before hanging up I made sure that she had the correct cell phone number.

We spent the evening packing which was a slow process for me because of poor sleep. I checked with Kevin regarding his available cash and tallied it with mine. By my calculations if the older U.S. bills were acceptable to Mr. Kuber, we had enough to pay for the food and accommodation.

Mr. Kuber accepted the older U.S. currency. In terms of usable funds, we were left with a few Sudanese pounds and a few large U.S. bills ( a mixture of old and new) which would pay the departure tax and the other compulsory expenses, some Euro’s to pay for breakfast in Frankfurt and the wad of Ethiopian Birr that would come in handy on our layover in Addis.

We had eaten breakfast, packed and were ready to go when Jero and Michael arrived mid-morning.

We provided a few parting gifts to Michael and Jero and bid our farewells in the airport parking lot and headed into the congestion and security hassles that we had grown to expect. Simon was heading to South Africa for a wedding by way of Nairobi and checked through first. Kevin and I followed for our flight to Addis.

By the time Kevin and I got through security and on the plane two hours later I was exhausted. In 36 hours - I would hold my wife in my arms and enjoy the comforts of my home and community.

EPILOGUE

Travel home went smoothly enough although Simon's flight from South Africa was delayed by a day.


I saw my family doctor and took care of that head cold.

Both Kevin and I rejoined the Pestalto "home team" to work on the company's snow melt mosquito management contracts in Ontario for the following weeks. I also prepared for a trip to Nigeria. There was a fellow there I needed to meet.

Canamancan Travel Blog Entry No. 5

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.

Canamancan Travel Blog Entry No. 4

I should state before I produce more blog entries that it is not my intention to be negative or to be judgemental about my experiences. These entries are merely my observations while on the journey. They are intended to be informative, with a touch of humour.

However, keep in mind that I have a Goal and Mission. As individuals regardless of who and where we are, we strive to maintain the wellbeing of our family and community within our social and cultural matrices.  This is difficult to accomplish under conditions of disease and poverty.  I am judgemental about our inept approach to reducing the impact of malaria. I would also like to see more funding for projects getting down to the grassroot's level.

This blog will deal with our return to and time in Addis prior to continuing on to Juba, Southern Sudan - starting with our farewells in Gambella on the morning of March 27.

Gira, our driver from the previous day, arrived around 9:00 a.m. to collect me and my luggage at the Park Hotel. We were about to depart; Gira had just put the pickup into reverse when an older Rover SUV stopped directly behind us, stalled and refused to start. Does this sound familiar? After some harsh words from Gira, three Orientals got out and had a discussion with their driver, another mechanic. Following several attempts at pushing the vehicle and popping the clutch, they were on their way and so were we.

We met up with Simon Hughes and Kevin at the Baro Hotel. They were packed and checked out. Simon Turial joined us for breakfast. I had concluded that we had enough film footage of larval habitats in and around Gambella,  so Gira left us to fuel the vehicle and to confirm our departure time for Addis.

Simon Turial and I negotiated his pay from the time he met us in Addis on March 21. He explained that the house he was renting belonged to someone who now had need of it. I learned that he had purchased a small plot of land where he could build a new home and grow food for his family. I heard the details of the cost of a foundation, the poles and filler for the walls and the thatch for the roof. We agreed on a price that was equivalent to the cost of one good cattle beast in Ethiopia or dinner for four with wine at a medium priced restaurant in Canada.

Simon by the way was not exhibiting any cold symptoms while I was still dealing with a persistent cough.  He did not share his local remedy with me and because I did not ask, I may have missed a golden opportunity for a deal with a North American pharmaceutical company and financial security for life.

The plane was on time and we left the hotel for the airport. I was pleasantly surprised when Simon told me that the new terminal building was now in use. I had been preparing myself for a tortuous wait in the old departure lounge – a room roughly 12 by 30 feet in a shack. There were no windows, a fan blew the hot air amongst the  40 would be passengers packed in like sardines, shoulder to shoulder and legs intertwined. During my last stay in the old departure lounge, my bladder got the better of me. It was a struggle to leave the room and the struggle continued as I passed back through two security check points. I arrived at another dilapidated building to which I had been directed. An old sign read, “ oilet.” I had no “oil to let” but I reasoned, “Close enough.”

After bidding our final farewells to Simon and Gira, we entered the new terminal and addressed our first security check. The contrast of the old facility to the new was indeed amazing … spacious , sparsely furnished, high ceilings and lots of widows from the floor to the ceiling. Yes that actually intensified the heat. In a far corner of the pre-boarding area one lone fan laboured without consequence. A 1950’s vintage refrigerator with a cache of Ethiopian produced Coca Cola and Sprite, was placed strategically in front of two rows of seats. Needless to say there was a steady flow of individuals to the refrigerator drawn like bees to a honey pot.  

Eventually we proceeded through two more security points and waited in an equally spacious boarding area.   I sat in front of the only other fan in the building. “You snooze, you lose!”

We arrived in Addis at 3:00 p.m. and our taxi driver as well as facilitator, Dejene Demeke, was waiting for us as previously arranged. We were driven to the brand new Renaissance Apartment Hotel.  The hotel offered wireless internet, a swimming pool and free breakfast to boot. I bartered with Miss Hirut Ibrahim, the Front Office Manager and we agreed on $74 U.S per person for an apartment on the third floor with a common living room, a kitchenette and with three bedrooms each with a three piece bathroom with a fancy shower. She apologized that we would have to walk up three flights and informed me that the elevator to the upper floors would be installed as soon as the parts came from Europe.

Kevin and Simon headed up to the room helped by a porter with the luggage. Meanwhile I left with Dejene to see about changing my flight arrangements to go onto Nigeria after Southern Sudan.  A rather insistent fellow, Uduma Okeh, had wanted to meet in Lagos to discuss malaria control and I was considering extending this tour a few days to see what he had in mind. Dejene drove us to a Lufthansa office; it was closed. I had lost track of the days and forgot it was Sunday.

Back at the hotel, Kevin and Simon had selected their bedrooms, leaving me with the largest perhaps in consideration of my age and size. Kevin informed me that the wireless internet was not working in the apartment.

I surveyed our new digs, overall the apartment looked great– nicely furnished with probably a 42 inch flat screened television in the living room. On closer inspection, the wood trim around the doors and base boards were either missing, or required refinishing. The kitchenette was modest but appeared to be adequate despite an inoperable hotplate. I moved into my boudoir, spacious - with a king bed, a vanity with a cracked mirror and a chest of drawers with a flat screened T.V. on top.

We had been travelling for over a week and I suggested that the lads consider “washing” their socks and underwear. There were wracks provided for drying clothes and with any luck they would be dry enough by morning when we would leave for our flight to Southern Sudan. The flight was scheduled for 10:45 a.m. which meant leaving the hotel around 8:15.

I headed down to the lobby with my computer to see if I could connect with the wireless internet and to inquire about getting our shirts laundered. The internet connection in the lobby was excellent and while catching up on my e-mails and sipping on an Ethiopian coffee, a fellow past by with soiled laundry. I asked him if it was possible to get some shirts cleaned before we left in the morning. He said yes and I inquired when they would be ready.  “One hour and 45 minutes (7:45 a.m.), “he assured me and directed room service to pick up the clothes from our room. Everything was coming together!!

I rushed upstairs and we all scurried to get our shirts ready for room service which arrived shortly after me.

It had been a long day and we all were appreciative of the thought of a shower. I took my socks and underwear in with me. Now this shower was a magnificent piece of technology. It had a control panel for various lighting modes and music, multiple faucets and shower heads – a large one overhead and a line of them on the wall, and seat as well. The only thing I could get to work was the overhead shower head. At least the water was hot and I proceeded to wash myself and my clothes, stomping on them on the floor of the shower.

I dressed with my one remaining clean set of clothes, hung the wet clothes to dry and met with Kevin and Simon down in the restaurant. We ate Ethiopian with several St. George’s beer and discussed our impressions of the hotel. 

There were a few interesting observations. Kevin had a wall in his bedroom that abutted against an outside wall; well not really a wall but a window which it split in two.  To have the window open, Kevin would call through the wall to Simon in his bedroom to open it. Either the interior wall was an afterthought or it was an architectural feauxpas. Kevin and Simon both had problems with hot water in their showers (there wasn’t any) and one of their toilets didn’t flush but it did have a hose and nozzle. Perhaps it was an Ethiopian version of a bidet. The door to the apartment was not attached to the frame at the upper hinge and couldn’t be closed. It remained open and we locked our bedroom doors when we retired.

 I suspect that the construction team that built the Renaissance was not trained in reading architectural drawings or plumbing. It was like being on a stage with a hotel setting. For the most part, it looked relatively good, high end - but a lot of things didn’t quite work. I’m not sure I would trust the elevator, if and when it was installed.

Dejene showed up unannounced while we were eating but declined to join us. I asked him why he wasn’t home on this Sunday evening with his family. “Dr. Barry, I have some very important clients and I must to be available to them at all times!” Hmmm?

Kevin had bought a cell phone earlier in the week because it was less expensive to use for local calls than our satellite phone which we used to call home.  He mentioned that we were almost out of minutes.  Without hesitation, Dejene left and was back with a card for 100 minutes in less time that it took to drink another beer. We paid and thanked him and he left assuring us he would be back at 8:00 a.m.

Kevin and Simon went back to the apartment to relax. I decided to survey the gardens and the pool in the twilight and to call my wife on the satellite phone. The only thing in the pool was stagnant rain water. A guard with an AK47 was sitting in the shadows.  I acknowledged him with a nod, turned my back and dialled. Complete darkness had settled in and the only light in my immediate vicinity was from the face of the sat phone.

Canamancan Travel Blog Entry No. 3

This blog entry is written again in my hotel room in Juba while waiting for my second meeting with Dr. Samson Baba. The meeting scheduled for today, Wednesday, was postponed until tomorrow morning.

I'll start this blog with the morning of March 25 at the hotel in Jimma.

I woke up around 6 a.m., it was light and I was drawn to the window by a noise. Below was a man with a screw driver working at opening the door of the SUV next to ours. I decided not to sound the alarm. It was probably the driver of the vehicle which looked to be worse for wear than ours. I commenced packing my gear and a short time later went back to the window. The vehicle door was open and the hood was up. I heard the whirring of the starter motor and the strained chugging of the engine that was failing to fire. A white man stood patiently by the opened passenger door.

I turned from the window in response to Simon Turial wrapping on the door to my room, "Dr. Barry, Dr. Barry….. we have to leave now; the road is not good in town and we must leave before the traffic!" The time was 6:45 a.m. or 45 minutes, Ethiopian time.

I opened the door and there was Simon dressed and ready to go. I looked up into his eyes, they were red and watery.

" How are you feeling Simon?" I asked.

"Dr. Barry … there is no air passing through the left side of my nose, I have never had this before! I have got your Canadian cold?!"

Indeed …. I went over to my medical kit and took out the bottle of cold and sinus pills and emptied the bottle onto the bed, splitting the pills into two equal piles – one for Simon and one for me. "Take two every four hours," I directed. My symptoms had returned just when I thought that I had it licked.

Kevin and Simon Hughes were up and taking some movie footage in the room. They had a restless night with a band playing until the early hours on their side of the building. A little later the band was replaced by the yapping of street dogs scavenging for food.

We finished packing and made several trips down the stairs with the luggage, paid the bill and headed out to the vehicle. The SUV that had been beside ours was gone. Apparently that driver was also a mechanic.

Simon was calling Bedru on his cell phone to come before the appointed time. It seems that just about everyone has a cell phone. Mr. Mo Ibrahim, a Sudanese-borne billionaire who built one of the first mobile phone networks on the African continent and his like had done a thorough marketing job.

It was not long before Bedru joined us. We loaded up and somebody mentioned breakfast …it was free, included with the price of the room. "It is free Dr. Barry," Simon Turial echoed with a smile. The priority of beating the traffic dissipated and just the thought of our two shots of Ethiopian coffee put smiles on all of our faces as we headed to the restaurant.

An hour later, we hit the road. We passed relatively quickly through the part of town with construction and then stopped for fuel.

Finally we were on our way and with any luck we would be in Gambella before nightfall. Simon had called his son on his cell phone to make reservations for three rooms at the Ethiopian Hotel. This disturbed me a little as I had specifically asked Deng to call Simon to do this several weeks prior.

We were passing through the highlands of Ethiopia and would continue to do so for most of the day. The air was relatively cool at 2000 metres altitude and the ride comfortable although cramped. Every three hours or so, we would stop and one of us would rotate to the front passenger seat for more leg room. The road was a paved for most of the way and greatly improved since the last time I travelled along it in 2008.

Breathe taking - driving through the highlands of  Ethiopia
from Addis Ababa to Gambella (March 2011)

Around noon I asked Simon Turial if he had taken the cold meds that I gave him. He replied, "No, I will take medicine of my village when we get to Gambella." I responded, tongue in cheek, that I wanted the pills back that I gave him that morning. I was assured that I would get them back – never happened. Many Ethiopians believe that the white man's pills, any pills including aspirin, are a treatment for malaria.

We passed through several towns sharing the road with a multitude of pedestrians, both two and four legged. Dogs, mules, cattle, sheep, goats and more goats were common. The cattle were always accompanied by herdsmen in and around the towns but often along the open stretches of road we would see animals meandering alone. I think we all wondered if these wayward animals would be missed by their owners.

We passed by huge tea plantations that went as far as the eye could see over rolling hills, banana trees were abundant, sugar cane and coffee plants. Baboons and other assorted monkeys were fairly common but flighty, so only a few pictures were acceptable.

A tea plantation in the highlands of Ethiopia
(March 2011)

About mid-day Simon received confirmation from his son that we had reservations for three rooms at the Baro Hotel in Gambella.

Ascending along the winding roads was worrisome at times when Bedru would overtake a truck or bus on a curve – no clear line of sight. There was always an audible sigh of relief when we safely passed the vehicle and were back in the lane.

Around 3:00pm we began our descent along a steep windy road with switch backs. Close to the bottom we were stopped at a police check point where we all produced our identification papers and the vehicle underwent a modest search. I did not mention earlier that Simon Turial had forgotten his identity papers when he left Gambella to meet us in Addis. He was challenged each time we entered a Ministerial compound in Addis when we were working on the camera issue and each time he talked his way in. When village raids occurred in Gambella Region, it was Simon's job to negotiate peace as representative of the Regional Government, his skill at negotiating became apparent the few days we were in Addis.

As we left the check point, Simon noted that the President's car was driving past us in the opposite direction. President Omod Obang of the Gambella Peoples' National Regional State Council would apparently not be available for a meeting with me this visit.

The last 140 kilometres to Gambella were at an altitude of 800 metres with a consequential increase in humidity and rise in temperature to 38⁰C. Foot and vehicle traffic waned as evening approached. The scenery continued to be magnificent with rivers and lush vegetation.

We crossed the Baro River bridge and entered the Town of Gambella with 777 kilometres between us and Addis Ababa. A short time later after refuelling the SUV we entered the Baro Hotel compound. The guards with their AK47's were preparing for the night's watch. Kevin and Simon Hughes unloaded our luggage and I was squaring up with Bedru when Kevin called out, "They only have one room for two."

The Baro Hotel Reception
Gambella, Ethiopia (March 2011)

Rooms at the Baro Hotel (Gambella, Ethiopia; March 2011)

I went over to the reception where I was greeted with a smile, the fellow recognized me from the three previous stays. I had learned several years back this was the best establishment in town with clean bedding, rooms with fans, running water, toilet and shower, a restaurant and a generator that ran most of the night. I wasn't particularly surprised at this situation. I was disappointed. I had words with the receptionist and later with Simon. Nobody was smiling. It was suggested that I come back tomorrow, there might be an opening. I knew there would not be, it's the African way of trying to end on a positive note.

I told Kevin and Simon that I would arrange for them to have the room that was available because accommodation quality in terms of North American standards went down from here. 

Inside the room at the Baro Hotel, Gambella, Ethiopia
(March 2011)

Kevin sprays the rooms with permethrin to keep the critters
down, Baro Hotel Gambella, Ethiopia (March 2011)

Then Simon and I headed out with Bedru into the night to find a place for me to stay.

Three places had no available rooms, at another I was shown a room but with no lighting it was pitch black inside. I declined. I like to see the critters I would be sleeping with.

I remembered a compound where Ouvry and I had spent our first night in Gambella Town, four years prior. The rooms were small with one light hanging from wires in the ceiling, a cot with a mosquito net, wooden shutters on the window with no screening, an outdoor guest shower and a toilet that was a hole in the ground. We drove over to find it was closed but the manager was outside and said the owner had a second establishment called the Park Hotel just outside of town. He made a call and there was one "excellent" room left.

We arrived in complete darkness and were greeted by a boy no older than twelve. He led me by the light of his cell phone to the last room and unlocked the padlock to the steel door. I took out my flashlight and had a look. The boy left and a generator started up and there was light. It looked fine, it was 10:00 p.m. and I was tired. We unloaded my luggage and I bid goodbye to Bedru who took Simon to his home. I don't know where Bedru would have slept that night. He assured me during our journey that he did not sleep in the vehicle.

I had closed the door and was unpacking when I heard a faint wrap on the door. It was the boy with an insecticidal spray canister in his hand. He directed the spray up into the cracks near the ceiling which brought forth a rather large black spider, the likes of which I had not seen before. Being an entomologist, my fascination is with six- legged critters, I dislike eight-legged ones. I reached into my pack and brought out my heavy duty spray bottle which I always carry with me in Africa and finished it off and the boy kicked it outside. Some might think this unusually cruel especially for a "bug" person" but to better understand my ruthlessness I should tell you that I have been bitten by spiders while I slept and was left with necrotic areas on my torso that took three weeks to heal and over a year for the scarring to fade.

After I paid him 70 birr the boy left, I sprayed the rest of the room including around the windows and doors, killing the roaches and crickets while they scurried around. Master of my domain, I continued unpacking when the generator stopped and the light went out. Where did I put that flash light?

The next morning, Saturday the 26th, the same boy came to my door and informed me there was no food but soft drinks were available for 5 Birr each. I ordered a Sprite and continued packing. The boy returned with the Sprite and I gave him 10 Birr. Apparently, he was impressed with the tip and asked would I like to upgrade to a better room for 90 Birr. The upgrade included an actual porcelain toilet (no seat) not just a hole in the floor, a large ceiling fan over the bed and thick spring mattress, better water pressure and all the plumbing was present – decedent! I paid for the room, included a tip and was helped to transfer my luggage.

Simon Turial arrived in a small three-wheeled vehicle with a young driver. This was the typical Gambellan taxi, painted blue and white. If you are a Gambellan you can get a ride anywhere in town for three Birr. If you are white, 10 Birr – still a deal. We were off to meet Kevin and Simon Hughes and arrange the agenda for the day.

Typical Gambellan taxi

We crossed the Baro River bridge and headed into town.

The Baro River Bridge (Gambella, Ethiopia: March 2011)

Transport barges on the Baro River waiting for the rainy
season and the water to rise (March 2011)

Dugout canoes for short trips and fishing
on the Baro River (March 2011)

Simon Hughes and Kevin had had breakfast and were busy filming and organizing the equipment. It was almost 11:00 a.m. and Simon Turial and I had not eaten. Over lunch, Simon agreed to obtain an extended cab pickup truck for the afternoon and early evening. He would also arrange for me to meet with Deng's wife to pass along some gifts from Canada. Being Saturday it was not likely that Khor Puoch, the Minister of Health, would be available to meet.

Mr. Khor Puoch, Minister of Health,
Gambella Region (November, 2007)

Simon Turial was good to his word, as he generally is, and the Minister of Health supplied our vehicle of choice. Simon also had convinced one of the Ministry drivers to moonlight for us through the weekend.

Ouvry and I had developed the vector control strategy for the Town of Gambella in 2008. The task now was to develop a presentation to obtain funding. If a picture is worth a thousand words, then what would movie clips be worth?

Simon Hughes clambered onto the back of the truck, positioned the camera, steadying it with his elbows on the cab roof. It was hot in the cab for us and had to be hotter for Simon in the back, exposed to the sun. Simon filmed where we directed while Kevin, Simon Turial, the driver and I made comments. It wasn't long before we purchased bottled water and not long before Simon's elbows were bloodied from steadying that camera.

Simon Turial (our man in Gambella) explaining how
this flood plain area becomes a major larval habitat
in the rainy season (Gambella, Ethiopia; March 2011) 

Kevin larval sampling in a pool remaining from
the last rainy season (Gambella, Ethiopia; March 2011)

Kevin training budding vector control specialists
(Gambella,Ethiopia; March 2011)

The afternoon's filming went well and during a brief break I met with Deng's wife.

Over supper and St. George's beer, we discussed our departure from Gambella by air around noon the next day. Kevin gave me the spray that was left after treating their room. I had a feeling that I might have use for it in my upgrade.

After the meal I was driven back to the Park Hotel, arriving just after dark. The generator was running and lights were on. I unlocked the padlock on the door to my room, turned on the flashlight, found the switch and made light. Hmmm ….what are those dark spots on the wall? Ahhh …the spider from the other night apparently had three relatives in this room - two black and one opaque. Raising the sprayer Kevin provided, I nailed the spiders and then targeted the nooks and crannies. Rather large ants were scurrying around the base of the bed … so .. sprayed the floor, sprayed the bed, sprayed under the bed ….went to sleep!

The night went well; an added feature of the new room was that the electricity remained on all night which meant the ceiling fan kept the air moving and the CPAP was working. Definitely an upgrade!

Around 6:00 a.m. I showered, packed and then found a chair and sat in the shade of the mango trees in the compound. The morning air was cool. Most of the other guests had left and it was quiet except for the staff sweeping the dirt. The boy brought me a Sprite and I read an article on Mo Ibrahim. Rested and relaxed, I waited for my ride to the Baro for coffee and breakfast with the boys.

Canamancan Travel Blog Entry No. 2

Canamancan Blog Entry No. 3

This blog entry is written in my hotel room in Juba while waiting for my second meeting with Dr. Samson Baba of the Ministry of Health, Southern Sudan Government.

The objectives of this journey to Ethiopia and Southern Sudan was to register my company in order to enter into partnerships with the respective government health ministries to conduct malaria vector control programs and to record our activities on film.

I'll start this blog with the beginning of the trip and end with our overnight stay in Jimma, the town half way between Addis Ababa and Gambella.

On Sunday March 20, Kevin Taylor, Simon Hughes and I met at the Toronto International Airport, 3 hours ahead of boarding time for Air Canada flight 9104. It was the first trip to Ethiopia and Southern Sudan for Kevin, mosquito control expert extraordinaire, and Simon, our cinematographer – both excited and raring to go. I was less so. The day before, I was exhibiting symptoms of a severe head cold with sneezing, runny nose, smarting eyes followed by plugged sinuses through the night.

Going through security went smoothly enough despite all the equipment that each of us decided to carry on board. By the time we boarded, I had used half of my tissue supply, constantly sneezing and blowing my nose. I took my place on the plane and was thankful that no one was seated directly beside me. The flight left on time at 7:40 p.m. and we were on it. That was a good start. The previous November, I had travelled to Ethiopia with Deng Tap. Because of weather, we missed our connection with Air Ethiopia in Washington D.C. and waited four days for the next flight.

We arrived in Frankfurt eight hours later by which time I had depleted the tissue supply in two of the toilets. None of our team had slept particularly well; I had spent the hours sniffling and sneezing while watching the new Harry Potter movie and True Grit. It was 8:45 a.m. in Frankfurt, and we checked in with a Lufthansa agent for the next leg of our journey to Addis Ababa. Kevin was pleased to be in Germany for the first time and because he is a cognisor of beer he directed the conversation with the agent to German beers. The agent was quite knowledgeable and kindly provided several recommendations. Breakfast in the airport consisted of assorted beers and German sausage on a bun. We paid the tab and I stuffed my pocket with napkins.

Frankfurt to Addis Ababa took almost seven hours; we were tired and we slept during the flight. It was night once again when we landed (March 21, 9:15 p.m.). We made our way through the corridors of the Addis airport and just before customs, exchanged our U.S. dollars for Birr – it was a good exchange rate of 16.7. We passed through the first stage of customs without a hitch, our entry visas were in order. One more hurdle, customs where the agents check our luggage. I was checked through, no problem, followed by Kevin.

Simon Turial from Gambella and his friend Paul were just outside the security area and we were greeted with the customary Ethiopian hand shake and bowing until our right shoulders touched. Simon Hughes had not joined us. Kevin reported that Simon was having trouble with the camera.  We learned that we were required to have a permit and the camera was confiscated until we returned with one. Nothing we could do about it and headed to the hotel where Simon Turial had made reservations.

We arrived at the Damu Hotel close to mid-night.  I had stayed there before; the rooms are clean, the plumbing works, good meals but "iffy" wireless internet.  The cost per room is $78 U.S. pricy for what you get compared to North American standards but reasonable compared to the prices of the new hotels like the Hilton in Addis. There are sleeping quarters available for $10 per night, I've been there and don't want to be there again.

Simon Turial said he had accommodation elsewhere and would meet us in the foyer of the Damu the next morning at 6:00 a.m.

I travel with a CPAP machine for sleep apnea and have come to rely on it for a good night's rest. The challenge as with any electrical equipment, is getting it to work in Africa, having the right plug adaptors, power adaptors and surge protectors to accommodate the 220 volt system. I had bought new adaptors at Staples for this trip but they didn't work. Exhausted and still producing copious quantities of whatever it's called that comes out of your nose with a head cold, I slept through the night.

Kevin tried several combinations of adaptors in his room and fried his surge protector which gave up the ghost in a puff of smoke.

Simon arrived at 9:45 and we headed off to get our camera permit. After numerous meetings with various federal government officials and providing a copy of the document that we had sent to the Ethiopian Embassy in Toronto, stating that we were travelling with the camera equipment, we were given a permit to use the camera in the Gambella Region.  The process was facilitated by the Ethiopian Ambassador who had been stationed with the Ethiopian Embassy in Ottawa a few years before. He had travelled throughout  Canada and we had an interesting conversation while the bureaucratic process ground out the camera permit. One and a half days were consumed getting the camera back (March 22 &23). 

Now we had to address outstanding issues regarding the company registration with the Ethiopian federal government. This was accomplished in one day, the balance of March 23. I did not get the registration but was satisfied that I only needed the stamp of approval from the Canadian federal government to wrap it up. This will be a priority when I return to Canada.

While we stayed at the Damu Hotel Kevin and Simon Hughes became brief regulars at a nearby restaurant called the Elephant Walk, named because of a huge plaster mural of elephants in the savannahs, roughly 30 feet long and 6 feet high that ran along the inside wall. The restaurant provided their first exposure to Ethiopian cuisine using "injira" instead of flat ware to eat mutton and goat meat. St. George's beer at a $1.00 per bottle was a plus.

The next step on the agenda was to drive to Gambella which would take two days, stopping overnight in Jimma. Simon Hughes would film our progress from Addis Ababa in the highlands (2300 metres) to Gambella (800metres).  Up to this time Simon had been taking still pictures and was excited about filming.

The general manager of the Damu Hotel is a congenial fellow, Getachew Seifu, who has a daughter in Canada. I told him we wanted to drive to Gambella. He said that he had a friend who could provide a vehicle and driver. The quote was $800. Meanwhile Simon Turial had met Dejene Demeke,  a most helpful taxi driver who arranged the overland trip for $500.

At 10:00 a.m. (March 24) we left the Damu Hotel in a well- used, slightly abused Toyota SUV and with a driver whose name was Bedru.  On the previous overland drive to Gambella the road had been rough and the tires of this vehicle were a concern. I was advised that the driver was also a mechanic and not to worry. As it turned out we made the journey safely and without incident. Simon filmed to his heart's content and we stopped several times along the way to film some amazing scenery, wildlife and not so wild life. Ethiopian coffee and St. George's beer took the edge off. Kevin, Simon Turial and I took turns doing the commentary. Bedru, a man of few words tried to teach us one phrase, "Thank you" in Amharic.

Along the journey we became impressed with Bedru's ability to dodge the cattle and other domestic animals. One of the few English phrases we heard him utter was "Watch it Billy" when he almost hit a goat.

Kevin is a musician with a band and given the number of goats he saw, he thought that "Big Black Goat" would be a good reggae band name in Ethiopia (Ya-mon).  Any Ethiopians reading this, feel free to use it.

Simon Turial was complaining of a cold; indeed he was sneezing and had a runny nose. He insisted it was an African cold and I said I didn't think so. I was actually feeling much better by this time.

We arrived at the half way mark, the town of Jimma just before dark.  Jimma is an "academic centre" and hosts conferences constantly and indeed there were conferences going on when we arrived.  Rooms in a decent hotel were hard to come by. We settled for a multi-story accommodation with stairs to the upper floors. The lights in the stairwell were out and the plumbing was not working. Two buckets of water were in each bathroom, one for washing and one for flushing the toilet. I skipped cleaning my teeth that night. The rooms were hot with no air circulation and with a few mosquitoes hungry for a blood meal were flying when I entered mine. It was as good as it was going get but at a cost of a few hundred Birr per room.  We headed to the vehicle to get the luggage and lug it up three flights.

Bedru headed out to find his own accommodation after we arranged to meet him in the morning at the vehicle at one hour 30 minutes which translated to 7:30 on our watches. Simon Turial went to see a sick uncle in the Jimma hospital and Kevin, Simon Hughes and I headed to a restaurant for St. Georges beer and Ethiopian fare.

I haven't mentioned that we have a satellite phone on this tour. On previous trips I learned that our Canadian cell phones seldom work and are expensive at $4.00 per minute when they did work. For the most part the satellites were aligned and we got through to family in Canada. The sat phone was also supposed to facilitate e-mailing but the kinks were not quite worked out. We also bought a cell phone in Addis as a backup.

We retired to our rooms around 10 p.m. and on the way discovered that our host had replaced a blown light bulb or two in the stairwell.  I sat on the bed and looked at the mosquito bed net hanging from the ceiling. It would be a hot stuffy uncomfortable night if I used it and I concluded I'd rather deal with the mosquitoes through the night and took my daily Malarone pill. I watched the two station colour television until I finally dozed off around three in the morning. This hotel definitely had its priorities – television over running water.