Mulit-culti

Two weeks ago, I was enjoying a last round of good-byes in California. In addition to the pleasure of seeing my nearest and dearest I ate really, really well.


I breakfasted in Del Mar at a café with my God-parents, I spent an un-traditional Thanksgiving with my best friend, her fiancé, mom and friends, I had my Grandmother’s spaghetti, my Mom made spareribs and sauerkraut and my Dad made rouladen with red cabbage and potato dumplings. I feasted on Indonesian food in LA and Indian in the Valley. I had sushi in Lancaster and really awesome Mexican in Lake Los Angeles. I basically tried to eat my way through the ethnic foods of Southern California- which, to me, are comfort foods. Though I love the German recipes of my parents, I also love enchiladas, sashimi, stuffing, latte’s and hot dogs. (maybe that’s still the German side of me).


Its not only food that makes its way around the world. While I was travelling, I was again struck by how multi-cultural our planet has become. On the first leg of my journey, I was sitting next to a kindergarten teacher from Minnesota. She was the epitome of a generous, warm-hearted mid-westerner. When we got off the plane, she gave me a hug and told me she’d be praying for me. On the trip from Minnesota to Amsterdam, I sat with 2 Kenyan business men, we talked politics and had a good laugh. I set down in Nairobi and was surrounded by people from countries all over Africa, Europeans, Asians, Americans too. I stood in the customs line with a Canadian student, a NY firefighter and an Austrian couple. So many different people, all doing the same thing. All impatiently waiting for our luggage, all commenting on the crying babies on the plane.
I arrived here in Juba, and began to meet my co-workers. One of my bosses grew up in America but her mom is Jamaican and her dad Sudanese, my supervisor is from Zimbabwe. My colleagues are from Bangladesh and Kenya. One of my other bosses is Senegalese. There’s a Brit, a Burundian, a Croatian, another American-- people from all over. Even in Juba (more on this later) there are Italian, Chinese, Thai, Indian and Sudanese restaurants.


I keep thinking about my multi-cultural world. Last week, Sudan seemed so very far away. Even with all this multi-culturalism around us, there are still places that are mysteries. Sudan occupies this space in our collective minds somewhere in between Lawrence of Arabia and a George Clooney tele-a-thon. None of us know that much about it, and for a country that is the size of Europe (the largest in Africa) we only know pieces of stories about Darfur, Gordon of Khartoum the janjaweed. I was excited for this job of a lifetime, but I’d be lying if I said it didn’t make me nervous- this alien-ness, this totally new mystery. But now, after my first week, I have to tell you… in many ways, its just like everywhere else. There are mostly good, friendly people, kids running around, animals, traffic, food, bureaucrats, work. Yes, there are more problems, and yes, they are much bigger problems, but people are still people. We’re a species that’s hard to get down for long. There is renewal and compassion here. There is a striving for a better life. And, even though this country has had more than its fair share of strife; even though there is an election coming that could see the birth of a nation and the beginning of another war, there is hope. I’m fortunate to be here, I’m lucky to be adding a Sudanese piece to my personal culture. Oh, and Sudanese food… pretty darn good.

(While we’re on the subject, this was the view at dinner my first night here. That is the Nile. Yes, THE NILE. I could barely chew my food because I was smiling so much)