Our Security Manager just got back from a trip to Rumbek and Wau. He’s an ex army black ops, or green-beret, or blue glove and could probably kill three men while pretending to tie his shoes. He gets a CHNEPR guest spot cause he also really like going to spas and Starbucks. Henceforth he shall be known as Frappucino Manicure; or Frappy for short.
I was tasked today to retrieve a truck in Yei held at customs. Normally we send our maintenance guy, but this time there was a miscalculation, and they were trying to charge us twice the normal amount. The Bosses needed someone relative sharp and relatively available. I fit the bill, relatively.
So Frappy shows up and I’m finding out how Rumbek’s doing. He pines for double venti mocha lattes and I lament data entry and the woes of remote connections via satellite. I mention offhandedly the trip to Yei.
He cocks his head, says whoa, and sends me this email:
07 March 2007
1. SPECIAL ADVISORY; JUBA-YEI ROAD. Due to recent abduction of civilians along Juba-Yei road by an unknown armed group, as of 06 Mar ’07, the DDO has declared Juba-Yei road UN Security Level 3 with armed escorts mandatory for travel of UN Agencies, Programmes, Funds, INGOs and Implementing Partners. Restriction will be reviewed by the SMT on 08 Mar ’07.
2. TAMBURA, NZARA, EZO SITUATION. There was a reported armed clash between LRA and the SPLA in Yubu Source (South West of Tambura along Sudan – CAR border). The resultant tension was exacerbated by further incidents in the Tambura area and the host government is responding to the situation. On 05 Mar ’07, the DDO approved UN Security Level 4 for Tambura town and immediate environment.
Hmm, I say.
Lock and load, says the InMo. I’ll bring the scotch.
I email the bosses:
In regards to the Yei trip, there’s apparently an advisory level three for the road from Juba to Yei.
What does this mean?
If it’s scale of 10 I’m not worried.
One of the bosses emails back:
It’s 1-4 scale. . . so not too good.
Let’s put the trip on hold right now.
I was actually looking forward to traveling in an armed convoy with a bandana tied around my head, and my blade in my boot. We’d get stopped and everyone would be yelling in Arabic, I’d climb onto hood roof of the car, click one in the chamber and yell, “Yippee kai yay motherf—,” only to be censored by the networks on the TV preentation of Die Hard 7: Sudanese heat.