From Southern Sudan to Northern Minnesota
Survivors of a genocide, two Sudanese 'lost boys’ carry on a tribal tradition at Kooch-i-ching
By Kier Malloy
When Mading Arou first stepped on Deer Island, he saw what most parents see as they look around the campsite: boys talking and laughing, a few scraped knees, some spirited tetherball.
But unlike most parents, Mading was transported to a place nearly 7,000 miles away, a place from his childhood where he had found friendship and gained independence—a place that was both very different, and very similar, to Kooch-i-ching.
Lost Boys
Deng watches a pillow fight with friends. (Kate Downey)
Mading was born in southern Sudan. He grew up in a village on the White Nile, a member of the ethnic group known as the Dinka people. In 1980, the central government initiated a genocide against the Dinka and other tribes.
As the killings devolved into civil war, Mading and his cousin Achuoth, five years his elder, were sent away to “cattle camp.” In Dinka communities, wealth and status are a product of cattle ownership, and cattle camp taught both young boys and girls the values and skills necessary to carry on traditions of husbandry.
“In Dinka culture, it is the obligation of the parents to let your child go to cattle camp, to develop their own independence, interact with other kids and learn how to survive when hard situations arrive. There’s no mom and dad there to hold their hand,” Mading says.
One day, Mading and Achuoth returned from cattle camp to find their village destroyed and most of its inhabitants killed. With the army in pursuit, they fled to Ethiopia with thousands of other children. After surviving in the wilderness, they made it to a refugee camp in Kenya, where they were fed one meal a day and taught English.
In 2001, Mading, Achuoth and some 3,000 other “Lost Boys of Sudan” were granted asylum in the US. The cousins, then 18 and 24, were among 165 refugees destined for Nashville, Tennessee. There, they met Ed Smith and Pam Beaver.
Culture Shock
Gai departs for a backpacking trip. (Kate Downey)
Ed and Pam, the parents of Kooch-i-ching staff man Cleveland Smith, had volunteered to help sponsor four “lost boys” through their church. The culture shock experienced by Mading and Achuoth—even before touching down— was extreme.
“As they were coming in to Nashville, they flew in over some of the woodland areas around the city,” Ed says. “And they wondered if they were going to have enough time to get firewood before nightfall, because never in their lives had they had a meal not cooked over a fire.”
But with the support of Ed, Pam and others in their congregation, the cousins adjusted to life in America. Mading obtained his GED, while Achuoth found work as a carpenter. Both started families, and when Mading’s son Gai turned 10, Ed and Pam introduced the family to Kooch-i-ching.
“The Dinkas are very proud and family-centered people, so I didn’t want to tell Mading what to do with his children,” Ed says. “But I saw the internal qualities of strength in Gai that make good Kooch guys, and so I showed him the website.”
“The Dinkas are very proud and family-centered people, so I didn’t want to tell Mading what to do. But I saw the internal qualities of strength in Gai that make good Kooch guys, and so I showed him the website.”
Gai first attended Kooch-i-ching in 2017, followed by Achuoth’s son Deng in 2018. This summer, the young cousins were joined by Gai’s brother Arou and Deng’s brother Ed. Achuoth’s daughter, Akur, attended Ogichi Daa Kwe.
Like Father, Like Son
Akur relaxes in a sailboat at Ogichi. (Liz Hattemer)
When Gai returned home from camp in 2017, it was clear to his parents that he had grown and matured.
“Gai used to be shy. He wouldn’t smile or anything,” Mading says. “When he came back from camp, he had changed completely. He was open and was helping around the house. He wouldn’t say anything, just pitch in and help.”
“Same with Arou,” he adds. “He’s now doing volunteer work at his school. He would never have done that if he hadn’t been to Kooch.”
The similarities between Kooch-i-ching and cattle camp run deep, according to Mading. In both settings, the protective hand of parental oversight has been removed, allowing boys to face and overcome adversity on their own.
“If he goes through these tough times, he will become a better person and he can then endure more hardship in the future,” Mading says. “Young boys need to learn how to be tough. To toughen up and move on when things are hard.”
“Gai used to be shy. He wouldn’t smile or anything. When he came back from camp, he had changed completely. He was open and was helping around the house. He wouldn’t say anything, just pitch in and help.”
Like cattle camp, Kooch-i-ching is a community built on mentorship, and a tradition of passing down skills and wisdom.
“You learn from the big kids. The boys learn from the older boys and girls learn from the older girls,” Mading says. “It is the responsibility of the older boys and girls to teach and to set a good example, because the younger children are always looking up to them.”
Full Circle
While fleeing his village as a boy, Mading was responsible for carrying the cooking pot. In the Quetico this summer, his son Arou was responsible for portaging the tin wannigan, a box filled with pots and cooking supplies. The parallel was not lost on his father.
Of his sons, Mading says, “I am appreciative of everything camp has taught them: to be appreciative of what you have, to work hard, to get back up, and to show respect to your elders. I have seen it in my kids. That’s what I’m grateful for.”
This article was originally published in the Fall 2019 issue of the Kooch-i-ching Tumpline.