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U.S. Life Is Next Challenge for ‘Lost Boys’ of Sudan

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TIMES STAFF WRITER

For the past eight years, 17-year-old Martin Marial has shared a small mud-and-thatch hut with five other boys in a dusty, fly-infested refugee camp in northwestern Kenya.

His parents are long dead. His bed has been a wicker mat; his bath, a tin bowl; his toilet, a hole in the ground; his one meal a day, a mushy mixture of ground corn and water.

But his life has been consumed by one obsession: getting a good education.

On Sunday, he will make what he hopes is the first step toward achieving that goal, embarking on an incredible journey from despair to hope.

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Martin is one of about 3,800 Sudanese--mostly teenage boys and young men--who became dubbed the “lost boys of Sudan” for their wanderings through the war zones and refugee camps of East Africa. Over the coming months, they will be resettled across the United States. Martin is in the first group of 29.

“I’m excited because I am expecting some major changes in my life,” said the lanky youth, who is headed for Philadelphia. “I will no longer face starvation and disease. I will be able to go to school. My life will be different.”

Not only different. Martin and his “brothers” face a crucial test of adaptability and a major break with an existence shaped by uncertainty and hardship. They are about to undertake the quintessential immigrant experience: trying to make it in America.

Those who have worked with the young Sudanese expect that the resilience they’ve already shown and the support of a network of Sudanese immigrants in the U.S. will help them overcome culture shock.

But for now, 15 hours of intensive cultural orientation have left them with huge questions: How will they fit in? Will they be able to communicate with the stilted and bookish English they’ve learned? Will girls like them?

Their story is as unusual as the decision that is now shaping their future. It is the first time that the Office of the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees, or UNHCR, has opted to resettle such a large number of unaccompanied refugee children from the same camp. Those older than 18 make up one of the largest groups of refugees with a similar profile that has ever been allowed to resettle in the United States at the same time.

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Displaced Youths Spend Years in Flight

The youths have been together for 12 years. Most of them, now orphaned, survived raids on their villages by Arab militias from northern Sudan when they were just kids. They trekked to neighboring Ethiopia, where they joined masses of southern Sudanese already settled in dreary refugee camps.

But civil war in Ethiopia forced them to flee back to Sudan, where they banded together by the thousands. With some of the boys as young as 6, they wandered the barren plains of southern Sudan for more than three years, finally ending up at the Kenyan border, and eventually in Kakuma, where they have lived as a huge family ever since.

“Their history is what makes them so unique: the circumstances of their flight, the fact that they were so young when they fled,” said Preeta Law, a Nairobi-based regional resettlement officer with UNHCR.

The agency prefers to send such refugees home or settle them in the country where the camp is located. But neither is an option for the “lost boys,’ who are mostly from the Dinka and Nuer ethnic groups.

Civil war in Sudan, territorially Africa’s largest country, has dragged on for about 17 years, pitting rebels from the predominantly black African, animist and Christian south against the Muslim and Arab north. Southerners want increased autonomy, exemption from Islamic laws, and a fair share of development money. An estimated 1.9 million people have died, and hundreds of thousands have been displaced.

Kenya already has been flooded by refugees from nearby countries, including Sudan and Somalia. Prospects are bleak in Kakuma, home to about 68,000 refugees from seven countries. Unwilling to join rebel fighters and estranged from their tribal culture, the youths lack the means to support themselves or establish their own families.

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Most have not undergone traditional Sudanese male initiation rites that normally take place at age 13 and typically involves facial scarring and the removal of several lower front teeth. Therefore, even those who have reached their early 20s are considered children by their elders. In addition, none own cows, which are needed for a dowry.

“They can’t marry because they don’t have a dowry to pay. They don’t have a family or community to vouch for their character. They feel education will provide a substitute for these things,” said Sasha Chanoff, a trainer for the International Organization for Migration, or IOM, which organizes cultural orientation classes.

A Chance for a Better Future

Aid workers, teachers, Sudanese elders and U.S. officials familiar with the case all consider resettlement the only way to avoid wasting the youths’ lives.

“They want to try and make something for themselves,” said one U.S. official, who spoke on condition of anonymity because the unusual circumstances of the program make it sensitive. “In Kakuma, there is no future for them. In the United States, at least there is an opportunity for them to get an education.”

The official said the United States accepts 18,000 African immigrants a year. UNHCR documents indicate that the U.S. acceptance rate for Sudanese applicants is high.

The boys will be resettled in cities including Richmond, Va.; Omaha; Phoenix; Seattle; Jackson, Miss.; Lansing, Mich.; and Boston.

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Younger ones will be placed with foster families. Volunteer agencies will help those older than 18 find a job and housing and enroll in school. Although they will ultimately have to fend for themselves, the resettlement has been organized such that they will always have a fellow “lost boy” nearby.

“The idea is, because they have become so dependent on each other, they will not be sent out alone; they are going as a group,” said the U.S. official, adding that the adoptive communities have been thoroughly briefed about the arrival of the refugees.

The excitement the boys feel is mixed with anxiety.

“I am very nervous because if you are new to a society, you can face new problems,” said John Kuir, who is bound for Boston. “Adapting to a new situation is not always easy.”

“I’m really worried because America is a different society, “ said Jacob Bawang, 17, whose new home will be Phoenix and who eventually wants to become an engineer. “I don’t know what to expect. How to integrate into the community will be a challenge. It may take some time.”

“This is a new thing for me because I am used to staying in a group,” said Martin, who learned years after arriving at Kakuma that his mother had died of illness and his father was killed during the war. “But I am excited about having new brothers and sisters.”

Although many of the boys are embarrassed about discussing the issue of women in public, relief workers said the youths had many questions about gender roles and whether American girls will want to date them.

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“They ask, ‘When I have a date with an American girl, from whom should I ask authorization?’ ” said Saber Azam, the top Kakuma-based official of the U.N. refugee agency, which runs Kakuma camp. “They are surprised when you say, ‘The girl; but her parents would think you are very polite if you ask them.’ ”

John said it was interesting to learn that American husbands may not beat their wives--a practice that is considered a form of discipline in Dinka culture. He was equally surprised to learn that sometimes a man might cook his own food, even if he is married. But John, who is 17 and wants to go to medical school, said he will do things the American way.

Rebecca Akuol, one of the few girls who came to Kakuma with the “lost boys,” is excited about the prospect of being equal with the men.

“There will be no one to force me to work,” said Rebecca, a tall, slender 16-year-old with a cheerful smile and short-cropped hair who will leave Sunday for Grand Rapids, Mich. “I can go to school freely. I will not hear the sound of gunfire again, as it was in Sudan. I will not be afraid anymore.”

At Kakuma, she has been little more than an unpaid servant to her cousin and several other clan members. Her typical day begins at 4 a.m. She sweeps the dirt floor of the compound smooth, runs to fetch water from a distant pump, washes clothes and cooks. She goes to school only when granted permission by elders.

Some relief workers are concerned that culture shock may initially overwhelm the youthful confidence and determination of the Sudanese.

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“I think people will find them very difficult to put into any familiar category, and therefore it will be a difficult relationship,” said Sister Connie Dryden, a project director with Jesuit Refugee Services, which sponsors education for 150 boys.

Dryden also expects that some young men will have difficulty managing money, grasping attitudes toward the police and government, adapting to the informal style of U.S. high schools and colleges, and solving problems without the violence they have been exposed to most of their lives.

However, she and others agreed that the young men will ultimately be able to handle any challenge.

“Their endurance, their ability to cope, their adaptability, to me it’s just incredible that they’re still alive,” Dryden said.

“The group is very resilient,” said Chanoff, the IOM official. “They’re really positive, and they’re really inquisitive. They are traumatized but not to a level I feel will affect them. I get the impression they will do really well.”

In addition, they will benefit from a strong network of support from Sudanese immigrants, who have generally prospered in the United States.

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“They are hard-working and dedicated to education and serving their communities,” said Anne Costello, an advocate for Refugees International, a Washington-based agency. “They tend to form communities. They try their best to be good citizens.”

Many of the Sudanese youth expressed a wish to eventually come home.

“It’s very bad to leave my people behind on this continent. They are suffering and it pains me,” Martin said. “Once I get my education, I will come back to help them.”

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