a marathon, not a sprint

So as per my last I got up at 5 on Friday, to get to the airport for 6, for a flight that eventually took off at… 1030.  I then drove 2 and a half hours back ‘home’ to the Centre in BidiBidi, despite having to go back to our Clinic in South Sudan on Saturday for the Staff Christmas Party.  Why?  Because Friday was the Centre Christmas Party!

I had to drive as our 2^nd driver had a family bereavement and so had to go home.  So just a couple of beers and shepherding the team back.  Not that things get ‘out of hand’ (not in a UK context anyway) as many people do not drink alcohol, and those that do, definitely in moderation.  It is often very formal here too; a programme, speeches (with a pecking order), cake cutting, games… 

No folk out here party hard in terms of laughter, jokes, dancing, conversation – good old-fashioned fun in fact.  We arrived back around 0100, so it was already Saturday (am heading back to South Sudan ‘today’).  Our hosts (landlords), the International Rescue Committee (IRC) who run the Health Centre in the compound, were having their Christmas Party too.  And it was technically ‘just getting started’.  We were invited, and even though we were very happy to be, there wasn’t really a choice.

See, folk here party hard (as I say), not around alcohol, just music, dancing, singing.  Essentially a little escapism.  There were at least 500 people there (still), maybe 600 or 700 as it was difficult to see in the darkness, just a few lights here and there to silhouette.  Slightly unnerving as very quickly the nefarious youth, who had invited themselves, saw a target; me.  Never mind the only foreigner, I was the only white.  But what a team, every time one (or more) of the youths tried to  close in on me, they were there strong and true.  Protective.  A human shield.

Anyway, I had to call it a day at 3 (which was 21 hours straight, allowing for the time difference); as I was up at 8 to leave at 9.  But I was awake at 7, the music still going! Though I did catch some more zzz’s, at 0830 I went to the standpipe to get water for a shower and met some friends there.  The guy ‘in charge’ had finished at 7.  Bloody hell, some stamina. 

A marathon not a sprint, indeed.