For the second time in a week we have a goat hanging upside down from our mango tree, a sharp knife slice by slice exposing the grizzly white underside of its hide. We’re preparing a second party for a goodbye no one anticipated. The financial despair of our country program has come to light. We are seriously overspent. How we got to this point without notice is the question of the week. The casualties to date in the form of layoffs are six ex-patriots, including Ryan who has learned from and shared with Sudan every day of the past 16 months he’s been field coordinator in Yambio and Tambura.
Two days ago Ryan gathered all the office and compound staff into our office. Perched on rusty metal folding chairs and their sturdier mahogany counterparts, the people who rarely see the inside of the office – the cooks, watchmen, cleaners – were nervous and misplaced among the desks and computers. The air was thick with the bodies of Africa. Each holding a letter containing a lot of legal language that probably was lost on even the best of the English speakers, they fixed their attention on the white guy in shorts sitting on the edge of his desk, casual American style. Explanations in English were translated into Zande – words and phrases like end of August, without jobs, donor funding, hope for the best.
The meeting was short, a few questions were asked, and then the breathless air moved. Soon the staff were laughing and joking in the yard, in true Zande style. Always time for a laugh, despite wars and layoffs and uncertainty. A strong people that will survive despite all.
And so tonight the expat and national IMC staff sit under the mango tree for the last time with Ryan with plates of nyoma choma (Kiswahili for roasted meat, in this case goat), chapatti and ugali on our laps, bottles of warm Coca-Cola at our feet. The night air is cool, the stars are bright, and I want nothing more to escape this reminder that the end is near.
Two days ago Ryan gathered all the office and compound staff into our office. Perched on rusty metal folding chairs and their sturdier mahogany counterparts, the people who rarely see the inside of the office – the cooks, watchmen, cleaners – were nervous and misplaced among the desks and computers. The air was thick with the bodies of Africa. Each holding a letter containing a lot of legal language that probably was lost on even the best of the English speakers, they fixed their attention on the white guy in shorts sitting on the edge of his desk, casual American style. Explanations in English were translated into Zande – words and phrases like end of August, without jobs, donor funding, hope for the best.
The meeting was short, a few questions were asked, and then the breathless air moved. Soon the staff were laughing and joking in the yard, in true Zande style. Always time for a laugh, despite wars and layoffs and uncertainty. A strong people that will survive despite all.
And so tonight the expat and national IMC staff sit under the mango tree for the last time with Ryan with plates of nyoma choma (Kiswahili for roasted meat, in this case goat), chapatti and ugali on our laps, bottles of warm Coca-Cola at our feet. The night air is cool, the stars are bright, and I want nothing more to escape this reminder that the end is near.
