Getting out of Juba

First, apologies for not updating in weeks...

So a perk of living in a conflict zone is R&R…Every 6 weeks or so I get to go for rest and relaxation, pretty much a free vacation for a week. 

At first, I thought, I don’t need this, but then you quickly realize how much it is needed just to indulge in little luxuries like hot showers, non-intermittent internet, paved roads, fluffy towels, and the joys of civilization as well as stock up on supplies (chocolate, coffee and olive oil) and just unwind from working long hours and most weekends.    

But the first part of the adventure begins with the Juba airport... 

There is no electricity, no system, and no order…in short it is an absolute clusterfuck of people pushing each other to get to random counters  (nothing is labeled and these counters are scattered haphazardly in a room) of airlines where they go through huge books of handwritten names to then issue you your handwritten boarding pass - without your names - let’s just say there seems to be a lot of room for error.  And no one seems to understand lines here! Frequently I find people will just push you.  This is probably the one time it pays to be short, as no one really seems to notice when I push my way to the front.

Once the boarding pass is secured you toss your bag on a tractor and find another desk where you write your name is GIANT book and that is immigration.  Luckily I have a UN ID, but if not there is quite the hassle and you usually toss some money into an open suitcase. 

Next the waiting room, as I mentioned there is no electricity, which means there is no air conditioning, literally is 1000 degrees but there also is no x-ray machine.  (They got an x-ray machine for independence but without electricity it doesn’t work).  So security is a pat down.  Then you just stand shoulder-to-shoulder in one massive room until someone comes in and hollers what flight is leaving, another system of pushing and you just walk out onto the tarmac and get on the plane. 

Coming back into Juba you also have to go through the same chaotic system, where immigration consists of elbowing yourself to the front of a crowd and back to the GIANT book to sign yourself in, your luggage (hopefully) gets brought in on a tractor, put up on wooden counter and checked for weapons.  Collecting luggage, if it isn't lost takes at least an hour. I usually can be patient about these things but I find waiting for luggage with all the pushing and it being a billion degrees to be the most maddening experience, and it quickly undoes all your rest and relaxation.