Page 9, November 16, 2009

Jack’s Quest of Sudan is turning out to be a comedy of errors that never seems to quit. I came into Wau yesterday with high hopes that the money that was supposed to be sent to me would be in the bank, that I would be able to catch the airline before it left after receiving the money and paying off the driver, and that I would be back on schedule with the possibility of leaving Juba for Kampala Uganda, then on my way on schedule to Amsterdam and eventually to Budapest. “Not so,” my African gremlins say. “There’s many challenges not yet heard of.” Yes, I say to myself, I understand completely. I must be patient in the face of these continuing frustration and go with the flow. But now what is the flow?
When I went to the bank this morning, expecting that the money would be there—it had been six days since it was sent, the Teller at the bank looked at the records he had and could not find my name anywhere. After much begging to have him check my name in various configurations: Joseph John Williams, Williams Joseph John, Jack Williams, Williams Jack (at that point we ran out of choices), I said, Where is the money. It’s been six days. He says, It takes time. The money is in Khartoum (Capital of Sudan) and has to pass through the banks there before it is sent to Wau. How long does that take, I say. He says, I don’t know. Ask the people in Khartoum.
I went outside at that point to call August Mayai who was waiting up for me in Michigan to see if I got the money. So I talk to him briefly and he says, Let me talk to the bank Teller. I go back inside the bank and ask the man who talked to me earlier if he would talk to August, and he refused saying, I told you (like I was his enemy to even ask the question again), I don’t need to speak to this man. I say, Look, he just wants to talk to you briefly, as he is in America and is wondering what has gone wrong. He takes the phone, and during his very short conversation with August, he is continually rolling his eyes, talking to me (and not the phone). And finally, he barks at me and hands me back the phone then goes about his business. I get back on the phone with the more frustrated than I August, and we conclude that the people had lied to him about the money transfer.
I hung up after that and we went to the bank next door to see if they had a money transfer policy. This was a newer modern bank (compared with Ivory) called Dahabshiil Bank. Signs all over the bank says, We transfer money from anywhere in the world to here and we send as well. That was good news. And if they are telling the truth, maybe there’s the possibility that August could make another transfer to this bank, and we could leave the money being transferred in the bank until I could get back to pick it up—that is if it doesen’t come through by the time I leave (my leaving is the next subject to follow).
The next surprise comes when I get to the airport to secure a booking on the flight that would be leaving on Wednesday (that was the information I had from before when I arrived). No plane leaves on Thursday I am told over the phone, as the airline desk at the airport was empty and the guy was located elsewhere. We checked around to see if there was another airline that went to Juba, and one fellow said that Sudan Airlines did. My driver knew the location of their office, so we headed over there. At Sudan Airlines, they said there was a flight before Thursday, but it was full and they didn’t anticipate any cancellation and didn’t even suggest that I get on the waiting list. Okay, said the driver, I know of another airline office in town, but I don’t know its name. We shall go there. And we did, but low and behold, it was the same airline I had planned to travel on on it’s next flight. I went in and got booked to leave on Thursday. That problem solved. I could leave on Thursday even if the money didn’t arrive.
But now I was facing the next hurdle. Would the hotel where I had stayed before allow me to stay another three nights without paying? We shall see, I said, as we headed that direction from Downtown. They agreed, and so here I am, with three nights on my hands before I can leave this place. I’ve been here a few hours now and it’s almost lunch time (meals are included with the $140 price tag for the tent I am living in. I guess we just have to eat it and hope the additional money I have asked for comes in and also that money that was sent last week does too, before I leave. My next blog should cover that issue.