The Mandela Washington Fellowship program is a young african leaders initiative (YALI) that was set up by president Obama, in the hopes of spreading American democracy to the nations of Africa. The initiative itself allows us, the young leaders (selected on a criteria I can only assume to be how influential and active we are in our communities) to witness democracy, democratically which I think is a wonderful testamont to the concept itself.
(It's also cheaper than war).
(It's also cheaper than war).
I was selected for the fellowship, along with approximately 13 other Sudanese fellows, with these numbers echoed, exceeded and reduced for other countries across Africa - (except of course those countries that attribute themselves to the MENA region such as Egypt and Morocco).
On the 17th of June 2016, I finally met the other Sudanese whom I would be sharing this experience with. Our journey was full of laughter and excitement until we saw each person off as we separated in Paris... I didn't know anyone by 'face' during the first flight, until a friend of mine recognised me and showed me to the group and we were all excited to finally meet one another. The excitement among us was electric and contagious, for some, myself included who had never visited the United States this was also an opportunity to finally greet the land that produced some of our favourite films, music and even food.
Our flights totalled to an average of 3 each. The connection in Abu Dhabi took 7 hours, but we were too excited to notice. Then, when we got to Paris, there was just three of us left waiting for our next flight which was scheduled to depart 9 hours later.
Some of the Sudanese Fellows at various stages of travel!
Although we had only been together for around 24 hours, I grew somewhat attached to these individuals, after all we were about to experience what we thought would be one of the most exciting experiences of our lives. I felt sad that I won't be spending the rest of the trip with my new friends, but it was also a great opportunity to finally meet with other Sudanese to discuss some of our issues in a safe space. I started to see ways to really improve our community together using our very different skills and I hoped that after our experience we would be able to connect for our common cause
As my flight was delayed due to rain... (somewhat an ironic reason for Paris) I began to contemplate my thoughts about the project.
Will it be possible for me to make a real change? Can we contextualise something to Sudan? My greatest concern at this point was that this entire experience might not demonstrate feasible solutions for our issues in Sudan. My very basic surveys found that the instability in the middle east is playing to the benefit of the National congress party and if nothing else, the public believes that tyrants provide security.
My legs began to ache from the long wait at the queue in Paris. I remembered my fathers advice to make sure that I move around a lot, and as moving would result in losing my slot at the queue, I started to shake my feet gently.
'Tired legs?' Came a polite voice from behind me.
I turned in an attempt to trace the voice which sounded both close and far. And that was when I met Paul, a professional I would later call a friend, and potential employer.
During my flight to Chicago I was apprehensive, Air France economy is not very spacious and for the first time in my life I was surrounded by Americans.
Interestingly, up until this point in my life, I had never met an American who was not in someway important, they were either a diplomat, an expat or a well versed rich kid on an exchange program at my school. My perception of them was blank, but I had been warned that they are sometimes very 'direct'.
Next to me to the right was a young lady and her father who were partaking in a very loud conversation about Paris, and to my left, a very old American woman who kept complaining about how cold the aircraft was (which for the record was freezing) to the great irritation of the French air hostess'.
The lady wrapped her blanket so tightly around herself that I couldn't tell what other items of clothing she had on. She then ordered some champaign, drank half of it and left the cup on the cup holder on the seat in front.
The lady in front then attempted to position her seat back to which she shrieked a shriek so high I could only expect such a sound from a wounded animal. It sent shivers down my spine - and worth noting, my spine only. No one else on the row even raised an eyebrow.
The lady in front immediately withdrew her chair and turned to apologise to which she received a scolding. Although I was in shock by this entire process, no one else seemed to be. In Europe displaying emotions is so rare, a situation like this would have been resolved with passive aggression and some humiliation, all of which are almost silent.
But it didn't end there, after an hour or so, the lady in front turned again to ask'
'is it ok now?'
To which the woman next to me replied
'No it's not, I'd rather not have you in my face!'
Unfazed by the rhetoric, the lady in front simply carried on the conversation she was having with the gentleman next to her, meanwhile the old lady next to me delved her hand into her hand bag and tapped me on the shoulder, I turned to see a sweet face and an open palm that displayed 2 small chocolates
'Would you like some chocolate dear?'
I didn't know whether to laugh or be afraid, but I took the chocolate and realised I had subconsciously stereotyped what I thought Americans would be like based on their origins. At this point it became clear to me that Americans resembled Europeans in appearance only.
We arrived at approximately 7:30pm Chicago local time on Friday the 17th of June (the never ending Friday) I passed through immigration which interestingly had carpeted floors, a feature that is iconically British. After being approved, I fetched my luggage, exchanged contacts with Paul and anticipated the university representatives who would be holding a sign.
After waiting around 10 minutes I decided to explore the airport a little. I noticed that although the American McDonalds didn’t differ much from the ones in Britain (when observed from a distance) it had one iconic feature that I didn't realise at the time would be echoed all over America - the American flag. Almost four of them hung proudly at the fast food chain almost to certify its legitimacy.
After around 15 minutes Chekwube, one of our guides arrived along with a man called 'Carlos'. They escorted us to a bus which drove us to campus.
Although I was exhausted, my love for travel kept me awake, I couldn't stop staring at the roads, the vehicles, the greenery and it was bizarre just how familiar the American accent was to me... I realised at that moment the power of Americanisation through the media - And so my journey through America began.
