Juba Archives - Wandering North

My second day in Juba started when I awoke at the lovely Acacia Village Hotel. I wish I had better pictures of it, but as with the rest of Juba, photos are technically not allowed. All around the hotel grounds they had signs forbidding photography. (So there is no photographic evidence of how ~~great~~ sweaty I looked smoking my cigar and sipping on pineapple juice under the trees.)

While yesterday I was a solo vagabond, today I would be escorted around by a driver who would show me the sights of Juba. I don’t normally think this sort of things is necessary (and I much prefer to walk than drive), but with Juba,not being the safest of places, this was my best bet to see the city.

Money Matters

The first order of business was exchanging money. I had come from Sudan where credit cards and ATMs are non-functional, so I had wads of pristine US cash and Euros, but no Sudanese Pounds. The driver knew just the spot. He took me to a small supermarket/general store (not fancy but tidy and well stocked) and the cashier let me exchange money.

I ended up with a fistful of Pounds, each bearing the round head of John Garang de Mabior, one of the leaders of the South Sudan independence movement and the first VP of South Sudan…for 3 weeks. (He died in a helicopter crash.)

Not on the money, sadly, is Salva Kiir Mayardit, the first President of South Sudan. You will seldom see him without his trademark cowboy hat, reportedly a gift from George W. Bush. I must admit to finding that detail rather charming. I feel like if you are going to be the leader of a conflict riddled country you should have a signature look. Say what you will about Idi Amin or Mobutu or Muammar Gaddafi or similar despots – they all had signature looks. Like Karl Lagerfeld.

Take note that the amount of money I had in my hands was far too much for my remaining time in South Sudan and I was unable to change it back, so if you are reading this, and planning a trip to South Sudan, hit me up. I have some Pounds to sell at a good rate.

To Market

From there, we drove to the central market of Juba, the Konyo Konyo Market. I loved the market. It didn’t feel at all tense or unsafe; it was just a regular African market, colorful and lively, with produce, housewares, textiles, food vendors and whatnot. My guide said it was ok to take photos around the market (but he also told me when to not take photos). Lots of women getting their nails done, men selling hookahs and clothes, and so many items I could not identify, but looked to my untrained eye like rocks and sticks.

*Hibiscus flowers and…other things for sale*

We walked around the outside of the market a bit and even took a selfie.

Shipwreck

From there we went to what is probably the most photographed place in Juba, the Afex River Camp restaurant. It is very popular with visitors, expats, and locals who have the money. A nice, outdoor restaurant along the banks of the Nile, under shady trees. You must go through security to enter the compound, but once inside the gates it feels like a haven. We had coffees and water and chatted, while I watched kids climb up a giant tree to grab fruits. Maybe mangoes, but I can’t be sure.

Not only is it a nice spot, but it is the best place to see the most famous sight in Juba: the sunken ship in the Nile. It is about as iconic as sights get in Juba. It is a passenger ferry, half sunk in the Nile, and just…sitting there, stuck. It is incredibly picturesque, sitting at just the right angle and surrounded by foliage. My guide didn’t know a lot about its history but said it had been there for about 10 years or more. The best info I could get was that its engine had just failed and it floated and got stuck. I had been hoping for a more dramatic tale.

*Nile Boat with children in the tree on the left*

It is very tempting to swim out to it, but the multiple warning signs about crocodiles is a sufficient deterrent.

Congregants and Cows

Rested and fuelled, we drove around, stopping at a church to take in part of the ceremony. The place was packed, and people sat outside on the steps and grounds to listen to the sermon.

We drove across the bridge, over the Nile and stopped to check out a herd of the long-horned cattle for which South Sudan is famous.

Plans Thwarted

I had wanted to leave Juba to see a bit of the countryside and maybe drive to a village or something, and my driver was game, but said we may not be allowed to leave Juba. We drove down a rode on the outskirts. Just as the buildings faded away and were replaced by landscape, there was a road block. A rope strung across the street and a mud brick and corrugated metal shack to one side. Men standing around. We were motioned to pull over. A man came up to the driver’s window and they exchanged some words before the driver told me he had to go to the “office” (the aforementioned shack). I waited in the car for a few minutes and then I was asked to join them.

One man sitting at an empty wooden table asked to see my papers. It was impossible to know if there were police or soldiers or just dudes. I handed him my passport, my stamped e-visa, and registration document. He looked and them and then said that if I wanted to leave Juba I needed a special permit. We went back and forth on this for a bit, but he would not agree to let me leave the city. I don’t know if I truly needed a permit or if he wanted a bribe, but he didn’t give me any signals that a bribe was needed. (He didn’t say anything like “Perhaps if you could give me some tea money” or anything like that. Didn’t even ask about money.) So we left and turned around and drove around a bit more.

*Streets and Sights* *(the photo at the bottom is a row of street side barbers)*

Market of Giants

It was fine though because we were able to visit a rural feeling market that I guess was technically in Juba, but it really felt quite apart from the city. I don’t know the name of it, but it was a fairly large market. A collection of shacks, or three walled, roofed structures, extremely modest, on a few streets of dirt surrounded by open, flat barren-looking land. The places sold mostly food items: produce and meat, spices, flour, coffee, that sort of thing. It was market mostly for the Dinka people.

The Dinka are a tribe from the area of South Sudan about 4-5 million in number and traditionally have a pastoral lifestyle and polytheistic religion, though many have converted to Christianity. The thing the Dinka people are most known for though is their height. They, along with the Tutsi people of Rwanda, are the tallest in Africa, which probably makes them the tallest in the world. I know that usually the lists of the tallest people put Netherlands at number one, but I wonder if those fact collectors are overlooking Africa altogether, because I have never seen people this tall in Amsterdam. The Dinka are shockingly tall, and thin, which adds to the look of their height. Many of the men wore western style clothes, but the women wore skirts and dresses of traditional African textiles. Watching everyone parade up and down the market streets, it looked like a convention of super models. I am 5’9” and I felt short.

I don’t have pictures of the market. I took a couple and then my driver said that I shouldn’t, so I put my phone away.

We walked around and then sat in some plastic chairs in the shade of a thatched roof and had ginger coffee, watching the market activities.

Concluding Juba

That was about all there was to see in Juba. It was a good day. I returned to my hotel and spent a relaxing evening smoking cigars and having dinner.

*Wine, popcorn, and a cigar. The traditional evening treat in Juba.*

That was my final night in Juba. There is more to see in South Sudan. It is a country with some beautiful landscapes but there is no infrastructure, so it is nearly impossible to see on your own at this time. There are some multi-day tours that one can book to visit the Mundari tribe and spend time with them and their cattle herds. It looks fascinating, but I’m not a group tour person and I was out of time on this particular trip. I was glad to have seen Juba. To see a bit of a country so new and, unfortunately, so troubled. It’s only 12 years old though, so it hopefully it finds greater stability and prosperity in the future. Maybe not in my lifetime though.

That was it for my Sudan/South Sudan trip. The next morning I would leave for Canada, but via Istanbul, where I would have a lovely overnight layover.

I knew when I planned my trip to Sudan that would have to add on a trip to South Sudan. How could I miss a chance to visit the world’s youngest country? So I added a brief trip to Juba after I left Khartoum.

A Bit of Background

South Sudan was a part of Sudan (then the largest country in Africa) until 9 July 2011 when it became an independent nation and the 54^th country in Africa. Those sorts of shifts seldom happen peacefully, and South Sudan is no exception. In the end, there was a referendum to secede, but that was after decades of fighting for independence. Between the mid 1950s and 2005, the region that became South Sudan went through two civil wars and the unrest continued. The result was that there was no real infrastructure in the area of South Sudan and when it became its own country that was still the case, with factions on many of its provinces fighting each other. (As I always say when I try to sum up historical or political events, this is Wandering North, not Poli Sci North, so if you want a proper account of South Sudanese independence and politics, look elsewhere.)

South Sudan is not known for a lot of things, but what it is known for often is poverty. It is always on the UN list of least developed countries. Today South Sudan does get a share of the money from the oil reserves located in its borders, but it is Sudan that gets the bulk of it. There is not much else in terms of industry or resources. Most people live in rural areas and on less than a dollar a day.

Life in South Sudan is hard. It has the lowest rate of literacy in the world. It has poor access to health services, nutritious food, clean water, etc. The life expectancy is about 55 years, making me a senior citizen.

The other thing South Sudan is known for is violence. Canada advises not to go there under any circumstances due to risks of violence and armed conflict. It is regularly on lists of the ‘most dangerous countries’. But that sort of thing has never stopped me. So I booked my ticket and applied for my visa.

*Canada’s travel warning for South Sudan when I went*

Getting In

I did need a visa to go to South Sudan but, remarkably, they have an e-visa system. You do the paperwork and apply and pay online and get your stamp at the border. It is very expensive, but not difficult. (As least for me. I’m Canadian. Other passports may have different experiences.)

I flew from Khartoum to Juba, the capital of South Sudan, on a direct flight. The border was not a big deal. A bit intimidating, but no hassles.

Due to the lack of infrastructure in South Sudan, there is no public transport to the airport, so I arranged to have my hotel pick me up, and it was comforting to see my name “Mr. North” on a sign at arrivals. I got into a nice SUV and was driven, like a dignitary, to my accommodations: the Acacia Village.

Accommodations

South Sudan is poor, but it is not inexpensive to visit. There are lots of hotels and drivers and some restaurants that cater towards people working for aid organizations and NGOs, like the UN. But there is no budget traveller level of services. Of the available accommodations that looked remotely appealing (there are no hostels or cute backpacker spots), Acacia Village was by far the nicest. It is a lovely spot, just a bit outside of Juba’s city centre, filled with trees and cabins surrounding a pool, and an outdoor bar/restaurant. The perfect place to spend time in charming comfort. Visually, it met all my needs. It was just as pretty as the pictures. I loved my cabin, taking a morning dip in the pool, and having evening cigars in the courtyard. But it wasn’t cheap, and it lacked the normal services I thought they should have provided (like daily housekeeping or being able to tell me where to change money). I found that a little annoying. On my first day I was entirely without cash because they couldn’t (or wouldn’t) tell me where I could exchange some bills. Nevertheless, it was lovely, and I would stay there again.

Wandering Solo in Juba

Day one I had no plans except to see what I could see of Juba on my own. The challenges here were that walking along in Juba is strongly advised against due to it being unsafe, and I had no local money, and was not about to walk around and ask people where I could change my cash. (Why not just wear a “rob me” t-shirt?) But I did go out and walk around.

I left the Acacia Village compound. Two sets of gates with armed guards and high walls with razor wire were all that separated me from the outside world. I was a little intimidated by that, but once I was outside, it felt…fine. I am not saying it was safe and I was certainly on guard, but during the day, I felt safe.

*the Acacia Village gates (taken the next day from a car)*

I attracted a lot of attention as I strolled around, ghostly white and dressed in black. Tattoos peeking out. I was a curiosity. But people were nice. Lots of people said hello and asked me how I was. A reasonable mix of smiles and stares. I can’t blame the people who just stared. I may have actually been an idiot for walking around on my own.

*A selfie i snapped as i stepped out in to Juba*

I think the reason it is considered unsafe on the streets is just that people are so poor. And there is a real problem with men getting very drunk on dangerous homemade alcohol and going kind of nuts. Could I even blame someone for wanting to rob me, when they have nothing? Not really, but I didn’t want to take that chance, so I took nothing with me but my cell phone, some cigarillos, and a lighter.

Juba is not an attractive city. Unlike most capitals, it does not have centuries of being a capital city. It is brand new and wasn’t much of city to begin with. There are no museums, galleries, or stately capital buildings, or picturesque anything. Just streets and low rise, quickly constructed buildings. Aside from the few hotels catering to ex-pats, there is really nothing nice or new about it. But it has an energy. The streets were busy; lots of people out playing soccer, riding and washing motorcycles, modest shops, and houses.

The thing that really stood out was how young everyone was. The average age in South Sudan ins 18.6 years (and the median age is 16.7 years). Tons of young-looking men were everywhere. And they looked pretty cool. Especially the ones that were very into their motorbikes. Unlike in Sudan, in South Sudan most people are Christian or followers of animist religions, so gone were the modest robes and head scarves; most people here were dressed in a more western style. Skinny jeans and t-shirt was a common outfit for the young guys in Juba.

I wish I had more or better pictures, but photography is not allowed. There are, I would find out the next day, some places where it is unofficially allowed, but I didn’t know that on day one, so I just snapped a few quick pictures as i strolled.