TravelStream™ news feed for member jackperschke on TravelPod's free travel blogs service http://www.travelpod.com/syndication/rss/jackperschke en-us Copyright ©2009 TravelPod.com Wed, 16 Aug 2006 05:04:09 -0400 http://www.travelpod.com http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/jackperschke/sudan/1155718920/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/jackperschke/sudan/1155718920/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/jackperschke/sudan/1155718920/tpod.html Wed, 16 Aug 2006 05:04:09 -0400 Sudan with UNHCR

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Juba, Sudan

It seems a long time since I've composed a group email and I'm sure many of you thought that they were a thing of the past!! I'm afraid not, I'm coming towards the end of a two year adventure and I thought that some of you may have an interest in where I've been for the last few months and where the next 12 will take me.



The latest few months in Africa have been based throughout Southern Sudan which has been interesting, exciting, varied and, on occasion, somewhat trying! I've had the usual round of close shaves, cold sweats, hairy flights and sleepless nights. These have all been combined with moments of pure hilarity, breathtaking boredom or desperate sadness. This year has seen me develop as a person, carve new ambitions for myself and re-assess which areas of my life are important and which can be allowed to grow in their own time. For that change I am grateful to DDG for giving me a job, to UNHCR for putting up with me and everyone I've met on the way for enduring my mistakes, my impatience and my continual questions.



So after a total of 26 months that have seen me live in Afghanistan, Somalia, Sudan and DR Congo I think I need a break. I also need to fill in the large hole in my CV where some kind of academic achievement should be. To that end, I've been very fortunate in that the University of London, and Royal Holloway College in particular, have taken my very generous referees at their word and, despite my lack of an undergraduate degree, offered me a place on a masters course. So the next 12 months will see me swap sub-Saharan African for Surrey, explosives for essays and landmines for lectures!



I'll be moving into a student life based out of a delightful new pad in Egham. Next to the university, a short commute into London and a short walk to the expanse of Windsor Great Park it suits my needs perfectly, and also happens to have a spare room if anyone is interested in sharing? Suburban life does seem like bliss right now but I can't believe that it will be long before my feet start to itch, I watch reports from far away places with longing and start googling "dangerous places on a budget"! Anyway, until then, I am looking forward to nights in front of Sky TV and the advantages of in-door washing facilities.



Having said all that, I'm hoping that the next 12 months won't be entirely dedicated to watching sky sports in my slippers and the relentless pursuit of academic excellence. Many of you will have had to endure my long and, probably somewhat tedious, chat about business plans over the last few months. Rest assured that they are all still being hatched and I anticipate that the University of London School of Management will be an excellent place from which to seek investment and polish proposals. I also anticipate trying to re-capture some kind of social life as for the last 9 years I have been largely at the disposal of my job and have rarely found myself in a position to host my friends or enjoy the regular company of anyone other than colleagues. I plan to make amends for that this year and thoroughly look forward to having friends over for supper, popping out to the pub for a drink, joining sports clubs and enjoying the fruits of the London social scene. I trust I will be able to find enough old friends to keep me company in these pursuits?



So that's about it for me, back home in the middle of September to start an MSc. I am really looking forward to seeing everyone and it would be great if those of you who have lost touch over the last couple of years got back in contact, I would love to catch up.
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/jackperschke/dr_congo/1155718560/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/jackperschke/dr_congo/1155718560/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/jackperschke/dr_congo/1155718560/tpod.html Wed, 16 Aug 2006 05:00:32 -0400 Travelling the Congo

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Kinshasa, Congo - The Dem. Repub.

After six long weeks of travelling throughout The Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC) and into The Central African Republic (CAR) I now find myself once again enjoying the luxuries of Nairobi. My time in DRC has been characterised by extremes. Accommodation has ranged from the $140 per night Grand Hotel to an un-built office building on the banks of the Ubangui river. My flights have been frequent and also varied. In six weeks I have flown, on average, every 3 days although on my record day I managed 4 separate flights. These aircraft have, again, covered extremes. The UN operated 727s work my regular Kinshasa, Kissanghani, Entebbe route. Lighter Caravans and Beachcraft have taken me from main hubs to the field offices and, on one memorable occasion, a 4 seat Cessna Skylane, flow by a 74 year old pilot and operated my Avion Sans Frontier took me off to the remote project outside Aru.



Continuing the theme of extremes, so the people I have met through work have come from all walks of life. From the most beautiful young UN Volunteer, to the less than beautiful ex SAS, ex mercenary, current aid worker who used to say things like, "I can't stand Kenya, I've been stabbed there twice and shot once." Before producing the scars to back up the, already far too graphically depicted stories!!



DRC is also characterised by extremes. It is extremely beautiful, extremely fertile, extremely under developed and extremely big. It is populated by, undoubtedly, the most gentle, kind, smiling people I have ever met. For them music and art are everything, and it is impossible to escape from either in DRC. The most ramshackle bar in the most remote town will boast freezes of breathtaking beauty around the walls. All hand painted by one of the many local artists that occupy all regions in this country. Bars in Kinshasa are dark, smoky and moody. At midnight the band starts and, as the hours wear on, so it grows. Regulars wander in with their trombones, trumpets or guitars and merge themselves seamlessly into the songs that come up. The regular singers are interrupted by others trying their hand. An expat sometimes gets up, takes hold of the guitar offered to him and starts strumming and singing to a song unknown to the band. They listen, heads bobbing, within a few bars the bass guitarist will kick in, picking up the rythym, after his lead the drummer takes the reigns too, by the next chorus the regular singer is offering vocal support and the trombone is adding its own unique atmospheric roar. It's a wild insight into musicians at work. All enhanced by the stunning artwork on the walls, strong cocktails and an atmosphere that has been plucked straight from a thirties gangster flick.



My work has been interesting too, although without the instant satisfaction of unearthing large caches of explosives that somewhere like Afghanistan or Sudan gave me. Instead, work in DRC has been more cerebral, more considered. Trying to negotiate the politics of mine action whilst, at the same time, exposing to my employers at UNHCR a large amount of hype surrounding the problem in DRC. The decisions I've taken and the advice I've given will affect the lives of thousands refugees for several years to come. I enjoy that kind of responsibility but sometimes I catch myself and, with a brief flush of panic, realise the enormity of what I'm doing. I'm reassured by these brief moments of self doubt as I think they are vital to my work and hold the key to maintaining perspective and keeping in touch with the reality of the decisions I make.



I fly back to the UK tonight. Plans, so far, revolve around Christmas in London and New Year in Val d'Isere. I'm hoping to catch up with as many of you as possible and will be on my UK mobile for the duration of my time at home, 21 Dec - 11 Jan. My flight out of the UK in January returns me to Southern Sudan and, more specifically, the town of Juba. This place is a true UN circus, awash with white land cruisers and hideously overpriced. I'm hopeful that, as before, my work there will see me spending more time out of Juba than in.
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/jackperschke/somalia/1155718200/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/jackperschke/somalia/1155718200/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/jackperschke/somalia/1155718200/tpod.html Wed, 16 Aug 2006 04:53:44 -0400 Mine Clearance In Somaliland

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Hargeisa, Somalia

The last week has seen me stuck in the wilds of Somaliland while the heaviest rains in 40 years made all the roads impassable. The only way I could get home was via a 140 Km detour that took me into a town that only 2 days before had been the mustering point for a posse sent out to kill, beat or kidnap me!! It's all been a rather fraught few days. Garbled messages over the radio, torrential downpours, stuck landrovers, mechanical failures, incredible kindness from strangers and then a high speed dash through a town that's home to a man who felt that stopping our work would be better than it happening where he didn't want it. I must confess that for the first time in many years I found where my patience ends. For some hours on Thurs night, while our landrover was waist deep in a seasonal lake, I was being walked off into an unknown village in the dark for yet another unscheduled night in the field, still unsure as to the location of my would-be assailants, I was deeply unpleasant company. However, incredibly I have made it home and you'll be glad to hear am, once again, excellent company!! So anyone who feels like passing this Friday afternoon by writing me an email is encouraged to do so.



There is lots of change in the programme with our Programme Manager heading off to Sudan to form the HALO advance guard there in preparation for a full scale deployment later in the year. Weve taken on a new trainee expat who was working out here with Handicap International until last month when Suds and I poached him. So I'll be running his training as well as taking over as programme manager for a couple of months. I'm really looking forward to it as I can't believe that many 26 year olds can claim to employ more people than anyone else in their country. I can already feel the power rushing to my head!!
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/jackperschke/afghanistan/1085906760/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/jackperschke/afghanistan/1085906760/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/jackperschke/afghanistan/1085906760/tpod.html Wed, 16 Aug 2006 04:48:18 -0400 Mine Clearance in Post-Taliban Afghanistan

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London, United Kingdom

The other day, just before settling into a deep yoga induced trance, having just finished my Tai Chi class and just before setting off for my fair trade, organic, free love, seminar. A thought occurred to me. As it did it brought a skip to my wicker sandal clad feet and double rustle of my beloved guardian. (I know it's a right wing propaganda factory but the sports coverage in The New Socialist is just dreadful!)



"What is this thought of yours?" I here you cry from within your capitalist, corporate bought, globalised, money chasing jails! Well my friends it occurred to me that whilst I'm away risking life and limb to help the kids of Afghanistan build a future for themselves and their country, (I love those little blighters!) Those of you left behind chasing the corporate dollar and forging the way for McDonald's World Domination might want to get in touch with me!



It seems that my internet access will be limited to a couple of occasions a month. (How I'm going to get hold of my favourite bike delivered, GM free, Soya and Free Range Guava Berry Smoothie, I'll never know!) Anyway, the point is that whilst I will welcome emails from all, I will be limited in the number of replies I send and may have to resort to more of these "circulars". However don't fear for all is not lost! I can be contacted by normal air mail. Please send your triple recycled, naturally dyed, handwritten in bio-degradable ink correspondence to the following address:



Mr Jack W. C. Perschke

*************

************


I'm afraid no package or parcel over 2Kg can be delivered. So that finest Yak's Wool pullover I've been coveting will have to wait till I get back!



Recent news of me? Not much, still fighting to have my marriage vows to Sven, my new Dutch fellow aid working lover, legalised. Until then I will just have to cope with the fact that I'm a resident of a fascist state, wilfully trampling over my precious human rights!



Some of you may have noticed that my recent transition into "Civvie Street" has affected me slightly. Whilst many have accused me of taking the whole "Pinko-Leftie Aid Worker" thing to the extreme, I just think it important for all to remember ...........I'm just doin' it for the kids!
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/jackperschke/afghanistan/1155717600/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/jackperschke/afghanistan/1155717600/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/jackperschke/afghanistan/1155717600/tpod.html Wed, 16 Aug 2006 04:44:21 -0400 Mine Clearance in Post-Taliban Afghanistan

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Kabul, Afghanistan

As my training heads into a new phase and I move North to a town called Pul-i-Khumeri I thought it appropriate to fire off another email to everyone. I really just wanted to let everyone know what its like out here and how I'm getting on. Sadly, having been thinking about it for some time I've realized that it's almost impossible to do. The barren beauty of the arid mountains surrounding Kabul simply can't be put into words. Even a picture provides no help. Without nostrils full the all consuming smog and ears ringing with the bustle of the traders, the mountains can never be appreciated. This is a land of contrast and one must see one side to appreciate the other. The fact that these majestic and beautiful mountains have been both Kabul's savior from ancient invaders and the vantage point from which rockets rained into the city is a good example. Equally the ruins of West Kabu! l can never be understood without contemplating both the horrors of what went on in this raised quarter and the hope that is fueling its resurrection.
These contrasts continue in everyday life, most notably within the people. I have been reluctant to go into too much detail about what I have experienced out here because like the mountains or the ruins, without perspective a false picture of Afghanistan will be presented. Since I have been in Afghanistan I have dug up a mine, lived within a few hundred metres of several rocket attacks, had my preferred restaurant nearly blown up and driven through the middle of a fatal shoot out. Again this simple litany of significant events provides no real description of my life here. I feel as safe here as I did at home. I have more confidence walking the streets at night. None of this comes from an effective police or military presence but from the kindness and self discipline of the Afghan people.


Sadly, the confusion continues, for even this simple statement rings hollow without context. Afghans are kind and they are hospitable, but in a uniquely Afghan way. Invariably when one hears reference to "The proud and generous Afghan people" what is truly meant is "proud and generous Afghan men". Close Afghan friends and colleagues of mine hold the most bigoted and repressive views on women's rights. A quiet conversation over lunch often sees me choking back a combination of rage and surprise. Rage that these views are not only held but practiced, and surprise that they come from the mouth of a well educated, intelligent and kind human whom I like and respect.


Again the swirling world of Afghan contrasts comes into play. In a super macho world where women are seldom seen and certainly not socialized with, one might expect a wild testosterone fueled world of fighting, foul language and poor hygiene. In fact, the opposite is true. In the absence of any female interaction the normal roles of women are taken on by these same "noble and proud Afghan men". Every other Afghan man seems to have bright red hair from over exuberant use of henna, in an attempt to stay young and beautiful. The purchase of clothing is a fussy affair with burly Afghan men reassuring each other that they look good in each item. A meeting of male minds here often turns into a mammoth gossip session. The slightest cut, graze or stomach bug is met by rampant clucking and caressing from concerned Afghan guys, each offering his favorite cure. On a personal note I've lost count of the numb! er of compliments I've received about my "beautiful eyes" from bearded middle aged Afghan men. So, to say that Afghan society is psychologically screwed up through its treatment of women is probably a truism. One only has to see the Gulbatchas (flower boys) of the senior Pashtoon tribal leaders or hear the phrase "a woman for a wife, a man for a friend and a boy for a lover" said only half in jest, to realize it.



Having read through what I've written I still feel let down by the inability to truly express the reality of life out here. In many ways I wonder whether the strange world of Afghan gender values is perhaps less wrong than it is just alien to me. There is no doubt that behind the burhkas many happy and contented Afghan women bustle through the streets buying supper for a hungry brood that she delights in raising. It could also be argued that this re-alignment of gender values provides the framework for stability. There is no doubt that the aforementioned kindness, discipline and hospitality of Afghan men comes directly from the lack of women to impress or perform for. It all seems crazy from the outside and I guess I'll never really understand it, but suffice to say that here a delicate balance of contrasting factors keep Afghanistan in a state of fragile peace. However, the fact that this hasn't been the case! for the last 25 years bodes badly for its longevity if left alone by the international community.
Politics out here is a mad and fascinating world of greed, courage, corruption and dedication that I can't even begin to describe. However, it's worth mentioning that there are no good guys or bad guys, that would be too simple for Afghanistan. Drug lords preach progress for Afghanistan whilst poisoning the world with opium. Reformers take bribes or succumb to fearful intimidation de-valuing otherwise promising rhetoric. While the world tries to find a simple solution to this inconvenient problem, Afghanistan continues to be doggedly complex.



Completing this picture of precariously balanced opposites are the foreign "aid workers". Like myself, thousands of well intentioned Europeans, Americans and Africans live in Afghanistan offering their efforts and brains for the benefit of the Afghans. From home, the deprivations endured by aid workers here seem extreme. These hardships are often, but not always, poorly compensated for in very modest salaries. So where is the contrast here? Surely these are the heroes of our tale? Leaving home to do good in a war ravaged land. It doesn't get much more clear cut than that, does it? Sadly, like everything here it's not that simple. A salary of 18,000 UKSterling seems modest for someone occupying a senior management position within a world wide aid agency. Sadly it equates to about 700,000 UKSterling when compared to the average wage out here.


Herein lies the problem. One can leave the UK on a quest to do "something worthwhile", taking a 50% pay cut en-route. Unfortunately on arrival the first thing one notices is that your trousers cost the same as two weeks wages to the average Afghan, your sunglasses are a month's worth, the watch on your wrist could keep a poor family comfortably for half a year. So in keeping with this land of contrasts here is the one us aid workers live in: We all get a warm fuzzy feeling from giving out medicine, providing governmental infrastructure or digging up land mines. However every time we tie the laces on our designer trainers or furtively sneak away to the "western" shop to spent the equivalent of 2 weeks wages on pot noodles and contraband booze this is totally undermined. I suspect that whilst at home, money is frittered on socially damaging consumables and status symbols, there are few more guilt ridden westerne! rs than the average aid worker.
The job The HALO Trust do out here is undeniably worthwhile. One only has to see the contrast of the barren minefields next to the lush green cultivated areas that we have cleared to prove it. The sacrifices we ex-patriots have all made to do it are real, as are the dangers. Despite this, the atmosphere is not one of mutual backslapping, congratulating each other on being great guys. Instead the general feeling is, as one might expect by now, a confused mix. Humbling respect for the people who have had to carve out a living through war, drought and governmental intolerance. Rabid frustration at the slow pace of change and the political obstacles thrown up in the face of every new initiative. Embarrassment in the face of some of our fellow westerners who through greed, intolerance or stupidity shame us all. Perhaps most strongly, an overwhelming fear that we are one of them.



I apologies for the lack of characteristic witty one-liners in this email but just wanted to give any future emails a bit of background. Out here nothing is as simple as it may seem, goodies, baddies, danger, safety all merge into a confusing kaleidoscope of opinion. To survive it, and come out sane, one just has to focus on the undeniable truths. The beauty, the kindness, the work to be done and the progress already made.
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