Africa

David Morse, for the Pulitzer Center

Even if you've been following our blog, the answers to the following three questions may possibly surprise you.

What is the infant mortality rate in South Sudan?

Do the "roads" like the one to Wau that we bemoan offer South Sudan salvation or ruin?

What is the color of Wau?

David Morse, for the Pulitzer Center

Koor's reception at his family's compound in Kuajok was intense. His Dad kissed him repeatedly and hugged us all. They had sent a pickup truck to Akon to facilitate our travel north to Kuajok, and later they would facilitate our travel to Wau. Both parents expressed their gratitude upon seeing their son, and to us for having helped bring him "home." Later, a bull was slaughtered and we were feted with the best food I have tasted in Sudan. But nothing can compare with that first emotional encounter.

Jen Marlowe, for the Pulitzer Center

Koor got a message last week.

It was from his father.

Koor had sent someone on a motorbike to go to all the towns and villages where he had heard his parents may be, trying to track them down. They were located in Kwajok, the regional capital of Northern Bahar el Ghazal. They sent a message back to Koor, asking him to come immediately.

David Morse, for the Pulitzer Center

Last Thursday I watched the beginning of it: Jen's immersion into Dinka.

Jen Marlowe, for the Pulitzer Center

Gabriel Bol approached the tree slowly. I lingered behind him with the camera focused on him. On his first visit to Ariang a few days ago, the elders would not let him approach the tree. It had to be a separate occasion, they said, accompanied by its own rituals.

Gabriel was born under this tree and his placenta is buried there.

His mother is buried there as well.

David Morse, for the Pulitzer Center

Here 'on the ground' in South Sudan, the ground is very very wet. It is a sea of mud. Yesterday afternoon a torrential rain accompanied by fierce wind blew down the tent where I had slept the first three nights in Akon. Wind slashed at trees and blew open the door of our tukul, everything lit in a greenish milky light and water sheeting two or three inches across the WHO compound where we are staying. I would guess eight or ten inches fell in the space of an hour.

David Morse, for the Pulitzer Center

I followed the woman in her bed.

The bed, built of clunky orange wood and strips of leather, was being carried by four people, one at each corner post, at quite a fast walk. It was all I could do to keep up. As Garang and I hurried after her, the import of Koor's project suddenly loomed before me. They were no longer abstractions, no longer twenty neatly wrapped packages boxes that we had shepherded from Nairobi. Our antibiotics might save this woman's life.

David Morse, for the Pulitzer Center

Two encounters with traditional medicine in southern Sudan brought home to me very vividly a sort of fault-line that runs through life here and also through our Lost Boys.

Jen Marlowe, for the Pulitzer Center

"The SPLM fought and gave us our independence. But we haven't seen them since then. They sit in Juba."

"We came back from the North, from Khartoum, when we heard about the peace agreement. We were happy about the peace. But we came back to nothing. No food, no health care, nothing."

Jen Marlowe, for the Pulitzer Center

We could hear the ululations, singing and drumming as we approached Lang village, just a short drive from Akon, in an SUV we borrowed from the home of Salva Kiir, the president of South Sudan. (he is from Akon).

The village was expecting the return of their lost son. And all the village turned out, as well as people from neighboring villages. Garang climbed down from the car and was immediately surrounded by a swarm of people who wanted to touch him, hug him, kiss him, make sure he was real.

David Morse, for the Pulitzer Center

"Tomorrow is a big day," Jen commented this evening, referring to our planned trips out to the village of Gabriel Bol Deng and Samuel Garang Mayoul. She's right, of course. Tomorrow will be in intense. But every day has been a big day. Each day there has been a crisis. At moments the whole project has threatened to come apart at the seams.