Roundup: Fruit, War, Darkness, & Why I Love Living Here, Parts 5 and 6

Heglig, with Paanthou

1. The fruit behind the rhetoric: Much hay was made over South Sudan's brief occupation of the somewhat disputed oil hub of Heglig (or Paanthou, as it is known in Dinka). Comparatively little hay was made over Sudan's occupation of Abyei, or its months of bombing of undisputed territory. But back to Heglig. Paanthou is the Dinka name for Desert Dates, known in Arabic as Lalob. Heglig is the Arabic name for the lalob-producing tree, whose scientific name is balanites aegyptiaca. The fruit is bittersweet, and is often mixed with a sweet porridge for dessert, some of which my coworker ordered at lunch today.

Minister Snape?

2. The Ministry of Darkness: There is in South Sudan a Ministry of Electricity and Dams. I had heard about this ministry once before, when I heard that someone working there had illegally sold a lot of the oil they were supposed to be using. Today, I also learned that they have a new sign, and that it is popularly known as the Ministry of Darkness. Some friends met the Minister recently and were dismayed to find that he wore the popular title with a little bit of pride: "Let them talk!" Talk we will. Three cheers for our compound generator.



3. Why I love living here, part 5: 
Me: So, are you enjoying our extended honeymoon--a year and a half in scenic South Sudan?
Stephanie: You know, our country's at war, you stood in a breadline for 45 minutes, and I worked eleven hours today, but yes, absolutely.

4. Why I love living here, part 6: An excerpt, with some edits, from one of my best student's theology class statement of faith:
"The background of my faith comes as a result of war in South Sudan, from which I and my half-brother fled to Khartoum. In Khartoum, when things became difficult as a young boy of 12 years old without father or mother, I visited a nearby Roman Catholic school, where a catechist named Ambrose taught us Arabic and the Catholic catechism. From 1989 to 1995, I missed opportunities to get baptized [but I was baptized in 1995]. As my father had already died when we left the South, and my mother remained behind with my sister and brother, I felt like I was left alone, but the priest always preached that God loves all of us and he can not leave us alone. One day I opened my Dinka Bible and I happened to read from Romans 8:38-39 where Paul insisted "nothing can separate us from the love of Christ." Even death. I concluded that this loving God is going to be my father and my mother in this bad situation in north Sudan..."

The writer is one of my best and most conscientious students, and though he spends a lot of time in class in Juba, he now lives with his family in northern South Sudan.

- John
Photos from wikipedia.com and wikia.com