God Grew Tired of Us

I'm reading a book called God Grew Tired of Us, written by John Bul Dau, one of the Lost Boys of Sudan. Sudan had a civil war through most of the 80's, all of the 90's, up until 2002. I normally avoid non-fiction books or movies about famine, war, or plight. You'll never find a copy of Elie Wiesel's "Night" on my bedside table. I'll admit: it's my own personal version of the ostrich sticking his head in the sand. I know how bad things can be, I know how inhumane humans can act...and reading about it usually makes me feel depressed, or cynical, or guilty. Or all of the above. But I saw the documentary film version of this book in the public library last summer. Attention-grabbing title. Awesome cover. I checked it out and showed it to my students. Then, when I saw the book in my school's library. I read a few random passages (my quick test to judge whether it's something that will catch me or not) and I gave it a try. And it's excellent.

It's been so long since we had our own civil war that it's hard to even imagine what it must be like. Imagine if soldiers in Utah decided that they wanted the whole Southwest to be one big Mormon state, so they started bombing "non-Mormon" Arizona towns, and forcing all non-Mormon Phoenix residents to march on foot through the desert to Mexico, sometimes with no food or water. Sounds crazy, right? Well, a similar situation basically happened for 20 years on the other side of the world. Recently.

The thing that I like about the book is the author's determination, his courage, and his ability to stay positive through it all. Enough of the hardships are described to give you a solid grasp of just how horrendous his life was, but he stays happy much of the time. Hunger by far is a worst punishment than war, which surprised me. "If I had plenty of food but risked violent death, I felt better than if I had starved in peaceful times," he writes. Definitely gives you perspective on your own life and troubles.

At times, when John Bul Dau would mention a date, I would think back to what I was probably doing at that time. For example, in May 1991, on a calm and overcast afternoon, he was eating some boiled maize on the riverbank. Hundreds of other boys relaxed and moved lazily. Then he heard the fttt of rocket-propelled granades being launched and the whump of nearby explosions. He leapt up, scattering cornmeal. On the horizon, a line of Ethiopian soldiers advanced. Not being a good swimmer, he frantically looked for a place where the edge dipped gently to meet the river so that he could cross. Finally, he just had to jump, a true leap of faith.... In May 1991, I had just finished my first year at UF. I had been employed at AMC Theatres for 4 months and was beginning the summer movie season with a new group of friends who spent most of their time working, watching movies, or hanging out, drinking a beer or two, living paycheck to paycheck. The hardest part of my life was trying to get a date and keeping my motorcycle running. It's wild to think of what was happening to John Bul Dau at the exact same time, and neither of us had any comprehension of the other one's life.

Anyway, I recommend the book, or if you prefer, the movie.