Going into Town [Part 2]

Today, going into town with Joseph meant driving to a ���hookah lounge.��� This lounge was one wall mud and three walls tarp, four crooked posts at each corner made from tree branches, and a bunch of brightly colored plastic chairs (the only kind here) on dirt floors. Men sat around and paid fifty cents to smoke hooka. Don���t worry mom, it���s not a drug. It���s a light kind of apple flavored tobacco popular in the Middle East.

It came up in conversation (because I like starting those here) that another man sitting there, Morris, was a judge in his tribe���s traditional authority. I was very interested in his judicial system and, without cleverness, I asked him,

���What would my punishment be if I beat up Joseph here?���

���Why did you beat him up?��� he inquired.

���He stole three of my goats.��� Now I���m feeling clever. Three goats! I���m a genius and he probably now thinks I���m a local.

���Why did he steal your goats?��� he asked. I didn���t know there would be so many questions. I���m not sure how long I can keep up this role playing.

���Because I wanted to,��� replies Joseph. Awesome. Joseph has joined in my skit.

���Well, why did he want to?��� asked Morris the judge. I���m starting to get bored with all his questions. I���m loosing interest. But I can���t stop now, I���m doing so well.

���Because they are fat and beautiful.��� I traced an imaginary silhouette of what a beautiful goat would look like in the air. I have no idea why. I���m an idiot.

���Ahh, they're good for eating!��� Somehow Morris the judge was able to interpret my hand gestures. I���m a genius. He has no idea that I���m not Sudanese.

But then the context that I had so creatively improvised had changed. Now Joseph had stolen Judge Morris���s sheep. Morris is not good at my game. I was no longer even in the skit and now was the witness to an interesting conversation I kind of wish I had not started.

Morris was clear that Joseph had no right to take his sheep and should therefore be beaten on the spot. In fact, Morris said Joseph should be killed.

Joseph is a very calm and intelligent guy. ���Morris, don���t be crazy. I have family and they would come after you.��� Says Joseph, trying to convince him that his punishment would incite violence and fix nothing.

���You think I don���t have family?��� responded Morris. Morris actually looked upset. His glare was strong and focused, his shoulders pointed forward. Morris is really bad at my role playing game. I am now hoping he remembers this is all fictitious.

���That would turn into war,��� answers Joseph. I really don���t need a war right now.

But then the conversation became very interesting. The two of them had a provocative discussion about the role of a central government versus traditional authority. This comes up a lot in our studies of development although it���s often brushed over or briefly summarized in a simple bullet point of something like:

• work with local government and traditional customary law in your development work

But this is terribly complicated. I was grateful to observe the debate in the hookah lounge.

Joseph has long worked with NGO���s and has deeply rooted beliefs in the power of an organized and representative government. He was educated in refugee camps and on scholarship in West Africa. He argued that formal government will need to replace traditional authority.

Morris, the bad actor with the dead sheep, values government but gets angry when you mention it intervening in matters of traditional laws���things like marriage laws and family relationships. I thought this was a very important point. He shared some traditional customs. I was confused whether or not his anecdotes were things he wants to preserve. He explained how you must kneel before you enter your father���s house. He also shared that there are two songs you must sing when you return home (this is a beautiful tradition if you ask me). But if you forget these songs, he said, your parents can send you away and say that you are not their son (not so beautiful).

���But you are still their son,��� responded Joseph.

���Yeah, but...���

Everyone went back to their hooka.