Which continent, exactly?

This blog's title isn't in reference to actual continents (I've now been to four), but is rather drawn from "The Third and Final Continent," a stunning short story by Jhumpa Lahiri, from her collection, The Interpreter of Maladies. In particular, I'm inspired by the following quote that summarizes the attitude I try to carry with me through life and on my travels

I am not the only person to seek his fortune far from home, and certainly I am not the first. Still there are times I am bewildered by each mile I have traveled, each meal I have eaten, each person I have known, each room in which I have slept. As ordinary as it all appears, there are times when it is beyond my imagination.

I love this. It calls on us to consider the tiny details of our experiences, both one-by-one, and in the aggregate, and to maintain a sense of wonder even about the seemingly mundane things that are the building blocks of our lives, and often, the glue that binds us to our traveling companions.

This blog began as a chronicle of my study abroad experience in Cairo in Spring 2008, and continued last year while volunteering in Geneva, and South Sudan with a wonderful organization, VIDES.

Now in graduate school, I'm returning to the Continent this summer while interning in New Delhi, India.

Please enjoy, inquire, and learn.

Sunday, May 26, 2013

Everyone in South Sudan is fine.


I am not very courteous on South Sudanese terms.  I’m learning, very very slowly.  The usual greeting starts with an outstretched hand, often silently (which is my problem), as they will just wait for me to turn around and notice and return the obligatory moderately-strong hand squeeze/shake.  Very nice, very polite, but sometimes I can be a bit thick. . . . so I now have a new culture to be awkward in.  
Sr. Celestina and I failing to fully
embrace this giant mango tree.
Regardless, we are fine. 

Then the conversation usually begins with something like “hello, how are you?” And I’ve learned the answer, is undoubtedly “fine.”  Not good, not bad, just fine.  I’m pretty convinced that whether it’s the best or worst day of someone’s life, they are still fine.   Sometimes I just say hello, and someone will respond, “I am fine,” giving the obligatory answer to the unspoken question.  Or I will respond as I do in the states, “I’m good, you?” and have gotten in reply, “I am fine, also.”  It is the default, the expectation, and I am slowly falling into line. It’s fine without the passive-aggressive undertone it sometimes takes on in English. It’s not just saying you’re fine or good because you don’t feel like saying any more to the person in question for whatever reason.  It is just a culturally-appropriate communication.  

It’s the same in Arabic and English.   A common greeting is, “Kayf, tamaam?” or “How are you, fine?”  So everyone in South Sudan is also tamaam. I am not sure about the Bari or other tribal equivalents. 

I have been in South Sudan for nearly six weeks and I am fine. I hope you are all fine also.  


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