Remember. This is Southern Sudan

WHEN things do not work the way they are supposed to in the south of Sudan, the standard response is: “Remember. This is Southern Sudan.”

You might not grasp the meaning of this immediately, but you soon realize that it is a common expression. It is said in such a way that you start thinking that Southern Sudan is not in Africa, but on another planet – or possibly even in another universe!

After a day or two you realize: Yes, things are definitely different in Southern Sudan. The waitresses in the hotels are all foreigners, mainly from Ethiopia and Eritrea. Their beautiful, deep brown eyes are simply irresistible, but their English is terrible. If you order a White Bull (beer), don’t be surprised if you receive the bill for your meal instead. And if you ask for coffee, you might get tea. On the upside, they know three English words very well – so you hear “Sorry, sorry, sorry,” and “No problem. No problem” very frequently. And when they see that an apology might not work, they use their next defence – that sultry smile. It’s hard to vent your frustration and you are reminded once again: “This is Southern Sudan.”

Commuting in Juba is a nightmare. Driving is on the righthand side of the road, but Government of Southern Sudan (GoSS) and Sudan People’s Liberation Army (SPLA) vehicles have right-of-way and often overtake in the face of approaching traffic.

And then there are strings of boda bodas (motorcycles carrying passengers) to sidestep if you want to cross the road. No one wears a crash helmet, the accident rate is high and if you see someone limping it’s most likely because of a boda boda accident. Not surprisingly boda bodas have been banned from transporting pregnant women in one state. If you are unfortunate enough to be injured in an accident, it will be your fault – even if it wasn’t your fault. In one case that went to court the victim, a Kenyan national, was told by the magistrate that he wouldn’t have been knocked down by a car if he did not leave Kenya!

“The Sudanese people are crazy,” is an expression my Ethiopian driver used frequently. “Why?” I ask enquiringly. “You see, if a foreigner drives a minibus taxi, Sudanese can get onto your minibus and when they get off they simply tell you, “Gurusu maffi.” It simply means “No money!” in Juba Arabic, a dialect of Arabic.

It’s not just in Somalia and neighbouring Chad where the Toyota Land Cruiser is a popular military attack vehicle. Just up the road from where I worked is the military barracks of General Paulino Matip, a former warlord of one of the factions on the Sudan People’s Liberation Army, who came with 250 of his men to Juba in early 2006. Close to the main gate is a Land Cruiser in camouflage colours with a heavy-calibre machine gun mounted on the back. And just the other day the vehicle I was travelling in had to make way for a police Land Cruiser with an RPG mounted on the back. Remember: “This is Southern Sudan,” flashes through your mind.

Banking is relatively new to Southern Sudan, so if you want to change your US dollars to Sudanese pounds, all you do is to head off to the market where the moneychangers can be found with thick wads of local currency. The Sudanese pound (SDP) is surprisingly strong and the rate is around 2.7 SDP to the US$ for large denominations such as US$100. For smaller denominations the rate is 2.6 or 2.5.

There is not a single shopping centre in Juba, the capital of the South, so if you want to buy something you will need some local knowledge to direct you where to go. Or you will have to walk the streets which are lined wall-to-wall with small shops. Everything is available, but at a price.

But Southern Sudan also has its redeeming factors. The motorcade of the President of Southern Sudan is nowhere near the size of the presidential cavalcade in Namibia and it is compulsory for all commercial vehicles to have accident insurance. The people are friendly and hospitable and if you remind yourself that “This is Southern Sudan” when things don’t quite work out you’ll be fine.