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The medical students of South Sudan are organizing themselves. After sudden rejection from their medical schools in Khartoum where their universities had been funding their training, they have had no teaching, no support and most frustratingly no information about their future since December of last year. Some are living with friends and family in the city in order to be part of this short course in Clinical Medicine run by the Harvard Global Health Division (who have kindly adopted me as a ‘fellow’ – apparently it will look good on the CV). Many are staying in student dormitories - rooms, crammed with bunk-beds, with no running water, no electricity and no sewage system. It is a wonder these guys turn up for class at all but the fact they turn up looking smarter and fresher than me – I just don’t get how they do it. During this time of uncertainty (the government having not yet named ministers or assigned budgets), nobody knows yet if the medical school will re-open in Juba With no faculty, no funding for teaching facilities or support services, even the basic ‘accommodation’ is under threat. There were notices on the dormitory doors that morning announcing that they had 6 days to vacate the premises. The students called a meeting – complete with an eloquent president, a logo projected onto the wall and a power-point presented agenda. I was most impressed.

Apart from these major set-backs the students are brilliant, though their knowledge and experience vary greatly. Some put me to shame reciting tropical causes of hepatomegaly I’ve barely heard of, while some of my greatest achievements have been showing one guy how to put his stethoscope in his ears the correct way round, and another how to measure a pulse. I guess they’ve just been making it up until now. They make up for any lack of knowledge or experience by an incredible eagerness to learn despite the difficulties they face, turning up in droves to overcrowded classrooms sometimes two hours early to make sure they don’t caught out by unreliable transport links. I also see a great humility in the way they accept their predicament, making the most of every opportunity without complaint. The importance they place on their learning was brought home to me this morning when a student, John turned up to my tutorial. I had met him during my first week here teaching on the wards and had heard that his 15 year old brother had died unexpectedly with fever and jaundice the next day. I didn’t expect to see him again after that, yet here he was just over a week later practicing abdominal examinations with his classmates.

Other than teaching, I’ve been enjoying Juba. Having a role here makes a big difference and I like to walk through the dirt roads on my way to hospital saying ‘how are you, fine’ to the kids on their way to school, going for ‘fulle and esh’ (oily beans and bread) with the students after teaching, and doing random things you do in a place like Juba like attending basket-ball tournaments, meeting minor celebrities and shopping for saucepans in the market.

I made a small assessment of another local health care provider at the weekend when I went to get a tetanus booster. I had cut my hand on a metal fence during a panicked evacuation from the worst bar brawl I have ever seen. Apparently the bar we were in was a ‘bit dodgy’ anyway, and when tables started turning over and bottles flying through the air we decided it was time to leave. Being in South Sudan means a few smashed bottles quickly becomes a cause for panic and mass evacuation, which meant a quick exit was not easy. I found myself stuck on top of a 15ft wall watching Chris man-handling a large ladies buttocks as she tried to squeeze through a small hole in a fence. An interesting night out in Juba. And no mum, we won’t be going to that bar again.