These last few days have gone by so quickly, I guess because there is so much to do. I packed up all my unaccompanied baggage and sent it on the helicopter to Juba, handed all my CF provided medical supplies to the Bangladeshi doctor here in Yambio for the use of my UN colleagues, and sorted through my belongings to make piles of goodbye gifts for my colleagues and friends.
22 July 2011. My last weekend in Yambio. There had been two cute goats wandering the camp for a few days; sometimes they were outside my container, sometimes tied by the front gate, sometimes being petted and cared for by a stray UNMO. We wondered where they had come from and who they belonged to.
The National (South Sudanese) UN staff organized and hosted a party to celebrate the birth of their new country.
The goats disappeared and a huge feast with drinks and fabulous music was laid out.
Each staff member had a party task to complete and went about proudly performing this duty: cleaning mop buckets were transformed into salad bowls, car mechanics into DJs and entertainers, and hard working locals into rock star dancers.
All UN staff, locals, and government officials were invited. Of course, some of us only found out about the celebration the morning it was to be held, but it wasn’t like we had any other plans ;) So we dressed up and arrived for the 1900 hrs timing. You think we would learn? We arrived punctually to discover that, inevitably, the start time had been pushed to 1930 hrs.
Two Canadian UNMOs! |
We took advantage of the extra time to chat and take some pictures of us all dressed up and out of uniform! 1930 hrs came and went.
I think it was about 2030 hrs before the gathering was underway and the buffet meal was served around 2100 hrs. That is the normal meal time for most of my colleagues and the locals here. It doesn’t seem to matter how long I live here -- my body just won’t adapt to such a late dinner and I always need an afternoon snack! Of course, on this particular Friday I was running a bit late and skipped the snack, brutal!
Post-feast brought hours of dancing to an eclectic mix of Ugandan, Nigerian, Indian, and other African music.
It was a lively, enjoyable evening; the celebratory mood was contagious, and everyone was soon on their feet dancing and having fun!
Representing a beautiful cultural mosaic outside in the hot, humid, moonlit night, we danced and rejoiced in the birth of this new nation and the hopes and dreams of its proud yet fragile citizens.
I was so blessed to have the chance to witness the birth of this country; I can’t begin to express my personal hopes, dreams, and fears for its future.
23 July 2011. My last work day, vehicle maintenance day, and time to tie off all loose ends. A UNMO friend from Ecuador lived outside the UN camp in a nearby tukul neighbourhood.
Together, he and I went to visit his community bringing with us many toys, candies, and housing supplies.
One of the neighbourhood boys acted as our translator and organized the children to receive their gifts.
We explained how to hang the little basketball net on the tree and demonstrated the general idea of the game even though I am not exactly an avid basketball fan.
One of the neighbourhood boys acted as our translator and organized the children to receive their gifts.
We explained how to hang the little basketball net on the tree and demonstrated the general idea of the game even though I am not exactly an avid basketball fan.
I love the little boy in the suit jacket! |
One of the young mothers saw one of the Canada stickers I was handing out and asked if I was from Canada. She recognized our flag! It was a proud and touching moment for me.
Every Saturday night the UNMOs host a BBQ which is open to our UN counterparts and all NGOs in the area. Some weeks it attracts a boisterous, large gathering while other weeks it simply provides an opportunity to have an intimate family gathering. There is always great food, strong drinks, fabulous company, catchy music, and lively dancing.
It was the highlight of the week, something we all looked forward to and planned our weeks around. It was a time to relax, team-build, and rejuvenate while enjoying each others company in a low stress, fun environment.
This Saturday was extra special as it was a good friend’s birthday and the farewell BBQ for three of us.
It was a magical night that I will always remember, full of broken sheeshas, mangled birthday cake, and passionate dancing under the mango tree.
The energy was equally vibrant and sad. It was a true celebration of our past few months of living and working together. I would miss this.
24 July 2011. My last full day in Yambio. Around midday there was a knock on my door. This was common on Sundays as one friend or another would often cook a huge meal and invite us all to share!
This time the knock bought an invite to a UNMO BBQ of leftover meat from the previous night: huge chunks right on the bone, hilarious to eat, and completely unacceptable etiquette in our society – they put the average ribs back home to shame!
We had to grab them with both hands, sink our teeth in, tear and pull, preferably while making an uninhibited caveman noise!
What a perfect last afternoon with a small intimate group of good friends, good wine, good food, and good sheesha.
We sat around in a circle and talked, laughed, and enjoyed each others company. It was perfect. Exactly the right type of goodbye I wanted and needed in order to leave this unique place and its remarkable people.
25 July 2011. Not an easy day. Our helo arrived a little earlier than expected so I ended up spending my last half hour in camp running around getting my last clearances checked off, giving away items left in my room, and desperately trying to find everyone for one final goodbye. Then it was off to the airstrip to board our flight.
The trip to the airfield, a drive I had undertaken numerous times since my first exposure to Yambio, was difficult and emotional. It broke my heart to be leaving this fragile place and her beautiful people earlier than expected and right in the middle of such a pivotal transitional moment in her history.
As we drove, I attempted to commit every obstacle, vendor, landmark, and obscure detail to memory. I breathed in the dusty, moist air; savouring the last smells and sights of this wondrous place that had been my home for the previous months. Yes, I would miss it.
I was touched by the turnout at the airfield. Many of the people that I couldn’t find at camp were there waiting to say goodbye. How do you say goodbye forever to people that you have lived, worked, and cried with over such an intense period of time? It is not easy but is a necessary part of our work and lifestyle. We said goodbye for now and inevitably promised to stay in touch and visit if possible. Luckily, I was leaving with my closet friend -- one less goodbye at that airfield at least.
As the helicopter took off, I focused on the lifetime of experiences I was taking with me. This mission has shaped me in ways unimaginable and I know it will continue to guide many of my life choices as the years progress. Mostly though, as the village faded into the distance, I said goodbye under my breath and held on to the liberating and joyful memory of dancing the night away under the mango tree . . . .