Laura Winsky/Arizona Daily Wildcat
A group of Tucson's "Lost Boys" gather. A few of these men will speak tomorrow at 5:30 p.m. in the Economics building, Room 110.
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By Laura Winsky
Arizona Daily Wildcat
Monday Jan. 28, 2002
In May 2001, the United States began to receive young Sudanese refugees by the hundreds into our larger cities. Not having a concept of what ice was, let alone the intricacies and oddities of American culture, they bravely boarded planes and traveled three days before reaching the United States. Out of the approximately 4,500 living in the United States, 51 are in Tucson. Their spoken English is remarkable when one considers that English is their fourth, sometimes fifth language.
They are each one a living miracle. It's hard not to believe in angels after meeting them.
American media has dubbed the gentlemen "The Lost Boys of Sudan," and it's a name they're proud of. One of the young men, John Majok, has said the name reveals that they began their life journey as lost children and now find themselves to be strong young men. The young men living in our community are college age - in their early 20s, but in a sense, they are ageless. They are children who lost their childhood; they are old men who have lived more in 20 years than we could hope to live in a lifetime.
Between the approximate ages of 5 and 9, they were tending to flocks of sheep and herds of cattle when their villages were attacked for supporting the Sudanese Liberation Front. It was 1987 when 15,000 boys began to walk with what little they had with them in search of refuge. David Manyok, who has since moved to Boston to live with a cousin (and learn about snow), was 7 years old. "Some died. Maybe 10,000. When I went from Sudan to Ethiopia, I was barefoot. I had never left my parents before. I was afraid to grow up because older boys always got killed. We collected the young boys to walk so we wouldn't be slaughtered. The Nile was close to our village; we had to cross it. So you see, I know how to swim very much."
David describes the first few days of their journey as difficult, but nothing compared to the stretch of 14 years that were to come next. Little did they know that warring factions would force them to walk from Sudan to Ethiopia, back to Sudan and finally into Kenya over the course of six years before they would find safety in a refugee camp called Kakuma in Kenya. There, the waiting began. The United Nations began to review their case as refugees while the young men waited patiently, learning English.
Finally in 1997, after a visit from the Clinton administration, a decision was made. The United States would provide a new home. "I will take them. I will take the Lost Boys" was the way David heard the news. It was the least the United States could give to Africa, after taking so much throughout history.
"I went to an interview in 2000. I did my best. I kept looking at the board, everyday. Maybe your name will appear to go to the U.S., maybe not. I would be happy because I will get new life, with no war. I will have enough food." David Manyok's sentiments are echoed by his brothers living in Tucson. Life here is new, difficult and rewarding. Almost all work nearly full time, and they have recently become new college students on the Pima Community College campus. The culture here is strange, and daily life is filled with laughter as they discover how oddly we do things around here. And they smile, big toothy smiles as they breathe in life, grateful for every day.
This story is incomplete. There is so much more! They talk of the support they give each other, the crossing of the Nile, the missionaries, their faith in God, the British U.N. representatives, the first time they tasted pizza, the first trip to a grocery store, their first phone call. The story must be told through their voices, from their hearts. And you should hear it. Some will journey to the University of Arizona tomorrow and speak at 5:30 p.m. in the Economics building, Room 110. They have dreams of wearing the university "A" some day soon on their way to fulfilling their life plans. They look forward to meeting students and faculty. Most of all, they look forward to sharing.
As David Guet said Thursday, "This is so important to me, to speak with them. Americans my age, they need to know."