Ben Tshin

“TIA.”

Says Danny Archer (nee Leonardo di Caprio) in Blood Diamond. “TIA”: This Is Africa. I’ve just been reminded that this is still Africa. Or more accurately: This Is Sudan. It might be post-civil war Sudan, but this is still Sudan.

Safety and your sense of security is all relative. It’s relatively safe in most parts of Southern Sudan. Of course, it’s safe where Medair operates since it doesn’t make sense (operational sense, business sense or any other sense) to work somewhere where there is a high risk of losing money, assets or staff. Ironically, Medair regularly warns and reminds staff that the security situation in Nairobi, Kenya (where we go for our R&R) is notoriously worse than Sudan. Perhaps worse than Sudan collectively. Nairobi is affectionately called Nai-robbery, with good reason.

But Sudan can still be a dangerous place. There are mines, and accordingly, lots of de-miners (Zimbabweans, South Africans, Cambodians, Bangladeshis), frequent nights with gunshots and of course, crazy drivers on pothole-rife roads. We hear reports of cattle raids, and even our own local Sudanese staff had his cattle stolen.

There have also been lots of events that have made the news back home:

• May 2, GoSS Minister of Defence killed in plane crash: We had 3 days of official national mourning two weeks ago. There were rumours of foul play. But another theory is that they overloaded the plane.
• May 9, Attacks on aid workers in Juba: Just after arriving in Juba, I saw some of the aftermath of attacks. In our compound, I was shown the splintered trunk of a tree struck by a bullet. There were several consecutive nights where different NGOs were attacked near us. Our neighbour behind us was attacked twice apparently. The most reasonable explanation: people with guns (ex-military or ex-militia) not getting paid, and needing money for food. Or just opportunistic, since Juba might have the highest concentration of aid agencies with lots of US dollars.
• May 11, Darfur rebels attack Khartoum: This was the big shocker because Khartoum was considered one of the safest cities in Africa, even during the civil war.

So I’m reminded that this isn’t home. I’m far away from Canada and the safety of Sherwood Forrest.

Last week was my first change of scenery since arriving in Sudan. I was one of 7 lucky contestants sent to basic security and safety training in Juba. Juba is the new capital of South Sudan and it’s literally a gold rush boom town. The gold rush here is from NGOs setting up offices all over Juba and bringing in Dollars, Euros, Pounds, etc. The longest tarmac road in South Sudan is also there, all 10km of it!

Medair has very good security policies, plans and protocols that everyone is drilled almost endlessly, since on arrival in any new location, you’re given a 30 minute security briefing. It’s good, it’s thorough, and most of all, it’s especially necessary in Sudan where fighting can break out between anyone and everyone at anytime. Ironically, I encountered my first security incident right before I got my security training. A bit of bad photographic timing, and I was seriously afraid of my near future.

That’s right, my first brush with the authorities. My intention was to capture the text on a sign: “Our Land, Our Peace, Our Oil, Our Liberty”. But picture taking apparently is not allowed from the tarmac. At least in Juba. I had done it in all the other airports (Loki, Malakal, Rumbek), and it was an innocent enough. But I looked to be some sort of Chinese agent. Chinese oil companies and by extension, Chinese people, are not looked highly upon here. He glared at me as he demanded my passport and details. It only got worse when he saw that I was missing a Sudanese entry stamp. I plead that I wasn’t checked my first time. Instead of explaining my circumstances, that only provoked a discussion (one-sided, albeit) about taking immigration and customs seriously.

Upon discovering that I was legitimately Canadian (ethnically Chinese, but not nationally), he let me off. I deleted all the pictures I had, and he was pleased that I at least took him seriously. Of course I did. I had heard stories firsthand of passports being confiscated for missing those entry stamps, and that was only part of my problem. I got out of it with a scare, but with some lessons that I took into my formal security training.

Security training was interesting. Lots of theory on the first day, but really “hands-on” the rest of the way. The best part is learning to deal with aggression. I wish I had that lesson 3 days earlier since it would’ve helped me deal with that official/guard/guy. It’s amazing how effective tension control works when you’re in high stress situations. There’s only three things: focus on your posture (show relaxed but confident body language), focus on your breathing (deep slow breathes from your belly) and recognizing and releasing any tension in your body.

Perhaps it’s only simulation, but when someone is yelling at you, manhandling you around, those three things might be a life saver. It might get someone else killed too.

We did a hostage scenario. At one point, the hostage taker asked for information, but hen no one volunteered information, one person was taken out to be shot (so we were told). Sadly, no one said anything. Me, I was too focused on my breathing, and making sure my arms didn’t go numb from holding them up. I thought that if I even spoke up that I’d be singled out for extra punishment. Even worse was when they choose me next. Again, no one said anything. You can run your imagination on what would’ve happened in real life.

It was only a simulation, but it got me thinking: “What would I do?” Would I try to speak out and save a colleague, to the risk of my own life? All hypothetical, but at least it got me thinking. I know how to placate someone with frustration aggression and someone using aggression as a tool for showing power, etc. I know all the security procedures, and what to do when things go bad. I just hope I’ll never have to use it.