Bridging the Gap

The visible traces of past Mundri go back to 1958, when the current health care center was build. This is the only group of buildings still standing and being in use, although parts of it are now abandoned, because there is a danger of collapsing. Apart from this health care center, there are plenty of destroyed schools, churches, and other left-overs to spot. Admirers of the so called urban decay will have a good time here.

An American aid-worker, one of the few white people around, reveals that in the year 2000, when he first visited the area, there where only three tukuls (houses) in town. At that time, there were still bombings going on, and being the front line, Mundri was nothing more than a bunch of ruins, a terrifying hell hole with the smell of gun powder.

The reopening of the health care center by the Mundri Relief & Development Association, as well as the establishing of a primary and secondary school, the Motherland Progressive School, soon attracted the first daring ex-refugees, and ever since, especially after the peace agreement in 2005, people have been coming back in increasing numbers.

Right now, Mundri is an average town with about 6,000 inhabitants (but that could be doubled within a year), a market, a county judge, a major, a police station, a prison, some churches, a football field, a restaurant, simply all the basic elements are present to make a village function. But it is just basic, nothing more than that.

It’s definitely a good thing that people are coming back and build up a new future here, but it also brings several problems. People bring back HIV/Aids, the current schools are too small and there’s a serious lack of teachers (most of them come from Uganda). A lack of clean drinking water, and sufficient hygiene, along with malnutrition, are also common problems without a direct solution, let alone the decades of war, which left behind the people in a collective depression.

But, signs of progression and hope are surely been seen. The old bridge across the river, destroyed in 1992, is almost being replaced by a new one. By the end of this month it reconnects Mundri to the rest of the world. Though you would never know for sure, after all this is still Sudan.

Mutatu to Mundri

Location is the customs market in Juba. Bags on the roof, about fifteen people stuffed in the mutatu, a 4wd Daihatsu minivan. We, the whities, must sit in the front, no doubt about it. My wish to sit in one of the back rows, mixed with the locals, is firmly rejected. We are the guests, so we sit in the front. period. Later I am happy they were so straight about it. Fresh air by the mile, less bumping than in the back. Plus a good view on the road.

It might sound surprising, one would think there's nothing to see in a hot, dusty, wildlife-poor, and monotonous landscape, but actually the road trip is entertaining enough for someone who's used to the concrete jungle of Amsterdam. A mine field here, some burned down bushes there, a driver who stops every ten minutes, either to say hi to a friend or to stop at one of the numerous check points. Every now and then a small village with nice looking tukuls and a waterpump in the middle, with kids swinging the pump with all their strength. I even spot some guys with bow and arrows, probably to shoot some birds.

Eight hours later - we're almost in Mundri - the peaceful trip gets an adventurous twist, when we get stuck in the water while crossing the river. The new bridge, the old one was destroyed in 1992, will be ready by the end of this month (a sign of the current wave of development taking place in post-war Southern Sudan) so driving through is the only way. When a dozen of local young guys help pushing, I am the only one left in the van - filming - besides the driver, and I feel kind of awkward. Imagine 15 people in the water working their ass off to get your van to the other side, and you, the white european, sitting in the car, being carried like some sort of king, that just doesn't feel right. So although my pants are too tight to roll up (fashion! why did i bring these pants anyways?) I jump out of the window and start pushing along. After all, this is Sudan, why bother.

Five minutes later, we arrive in the town of Mundri. At first sight a quiet and peaceful village where the beer is lukewarm and the toilets are just a hole in the ground. This will be our home for almost two weeks.