Running the Race (And sometimes winning the prize!)

Well, my first weekend in Juba was far more exciting than I anticipated. On Sunday there was a race sponsored by MTN, one of the largest cell phone and mobile networks here. I and the girls and a few other staff members ran as well. You could run 5k, 10k, or 21k (half-marathon). We all did the 5k and there were probably 75 people running that race. The turn-out was bigger than I expected. Lots of folks, and a good number of foreigners as well. We were all given yellow MTN shirts and numbers. Not all were serious runners. A few gals were running in ballet flats and skinny jeans, but there were legit runners there too. South Sudanese are tall and for sure, aside from the younger girls from the center, I was the smallest in the crowd. No contest.

I had a lot of fun. There were lots of curious on lookers and they did a good job of stopping traffic and passing out water. The finish line was pretty disorganized. They handed you a slip with the number you placed and you were supposed to go register at a table. By the time I got there it was chaos and they had to get policemen over to get people to form a line. Eventually I made it to the front.

While they waited for people to get back and everything there was lots of good entertainment. A dance group, singers, a rapper. It was really great. I couldn't help but think the whole time, "I'm definitely not in North Africa anymore!"

And, Surprise!, I ended up placing 6th overall in the 5k, and I was the first female foreigner so I won a cash prize! They made me pose with a giant check and a local TV station had me say a few words. Bizarre, really, but exciting. I'm supposed to go tomorrow to collect the money. I went today to have them scan my ID and confirm my name for the check. When I walked into the waiting area at the office I explained to the security guy that I had won a prize in the 5k and he kind of looked at me amused, and someone in the room was like "You were a winner?" And I said "Yeees..." and kind of laughed and then everyone in the room started laughing. Haha, glad I can amuse!

I won 1,500 SSP, which is about $375. So not shabby at all! I plan on using the money to maybe buy the girls some ice cream or something since they didn't win any prizes, but use most of it to buy beads and other supplies to start getting the handicrafts program going. I may buy myself a necklace or something :) but really it feels ridiculous to keep the money for myself.



My picture with a giant check even made it in the paper.

Also, interesting note, one of the sponsors for the race was a cigarette company. So they had their signs up advertising at the event. The cigarette posters said "Expand your imagination. Just say Yes!" My, my, my.

Someone Elses Room

The flight we took earlier this week was through an oil company who sells any extra seats they have to other folks who want to head there. The small airport is in Paloch, a town about 50 minutes from Melut. We had some hassles originally getting on the flight, but we made it here. As we tried to arrange the return flight, along with a couple of others who hoped to travel the same day, we ran into some problems. Understandably they give their employees first priority. But they wouldn’t tell us if we had a space on the flight, we just had to show up. So we did (late, rained on, and mud-stained) to find that there were four spaces on the flight out of the seven we needed. I and a couple did not have as pressing things to get to, so it was decided we would stay the night and try to fly the next day.

We’d been told that this oil company had accommodation where we could pay for a room and stay. We got a ride to the office place and went to the hotel. But, allow me to set the scene a little bit. This area is remote. There is one paved road, and that’s only from the airport to the oil company’s buildings. You walk out the gates and there are villages with tukuls, women pumping water from a borehole, donkeys. You can’t get bottled water from any of the corner shops and you don’t want to drink the local stuff because it comes out brown and, supposedly, carries typhoid.  The set-up feels kind of bizarre and surreal.

So we walk in and there is no one at the front desk. We sat there for awhile waiting for someone official looking to come in or walk by. Eventually someone did. After some chatting and things we weren’t given any certain indication that we would be able to stay, but things were looking positive. A little while later we were given plastic VIP badges and told to go to the cafeteria for lunch. We walked in to a rather large cafeteria full of Sudanese men staaaaring at us. Especially the other lady and I. Of the many, many workers we saw there were absolutely no women. Awkward.

We get ushered into a room at the back separated by a curtain. In there we see two 20-something white guys. The first thing I hear them say are “You’re the first white people we’ve seen in three weeks!” So we enjoy a nice lunch chatting with them. I think they were just happy to have different company. We share our situation and predicament and offer to help if they can. Nice fellows. After our lunch we sat and chatted a few more minutes after everyone else had left. So we were able to watch at least three rats run over the counters, onto tables, and eat the bread and other stuff that had been left on the tables. In broad daylight! I’ve seen rats before, but never that bold! Yikes.

We go back to the hotel and the other lady and I ask if there is a bathroom we can use. The man opens one of the rooms and while we were using the facilities they say that this is the room we’ll be staying in. They bring in another bed and we get our stuff from the lobby. But as soon as we put our stuff down we look around and are like “Um…I think this is someone’s room…” The TV was on, there were clothes in the dresser, a towel hanging in the bathroom, toiletries in the cupboard, at least seven cans of air freshener, slippers under the bed. Yeah…definitely lived in.

So we ask the man who told us it was our room and he said that it was fine, this guy was in Juba and we could use his room. We were happy to have anywhere to stay but it was odd and slightly unsettling to be staying in someone else’s space that didn’t know that you were there. And when I tried to access the wireless I asked the guy at the front desk for the password and he said “No password.” I implied that I thought there was one and he said, “No. You try again.” I asked another guy for the code and he gave me an Ethernet cord. We found out several hours later that there actually was a spot to plug in the cord.

We enjoyed another buffet style dinner with our new friends and made it through the night on the sheets that we were pretty sure were not clean. As we showered we were careful not to disturb his towels that were up drying. Such an odd experience. We were able to bum a ride to the airport really early and made it on the flight! Success! My Juba adventures now commence!

Connections

In Melut the people I stayed with work at a small theological college. There were a few pastors visiting the college for a board meeting. They live in the city I used to live in up north so we were chatting away in Arabic and I talked about the centers where I’d worked. One of the men was familiar with the centers and asked who I knew that worked there. I start listing off the teachers I knew there and I get to one lady and he goes, “You know her husband is a student here.”  I said “What?!”

So I asked around and it took no time at all to locate him. I (probably overly) excitedly warbled on that I knew his wife and worked with her and love that city and her and how was she and I am so happy to meet him and this is great. He handled my run-on sentence with grace and then said he recognized me from the Christmas celebration last December. He had been there visiting during his break from the college!

We sat and chatted for awhile. He didn’t go into details but confirmed that she and the other teachers were taken in by security for 20 days in a row. I said I knew they were treated badly and he just said, “Yes, yes.” He told me what was going on with the centers. That one had been closed, but the other was still open but maybe only for a month or two. I got choked up and asked what would happen to them and we lamented about the hard times for people there right now.

He showed me picture of him and his wife and of their four kids, who I know and have met. I gave him a picture to give to his wife, when he returns home to her. It was just of me and all the older boys on my last day there. Maybe a silly thing, but I dunno, it seemed like a good idea. Apparently he’d worked at the centers a few years ago and knew some of the boys who had been there for several years. We talked about them by name and he said he’d been able to chat with them sometimes when his wife was working and they would call him. My heart was so warmed!

While we talked he tried a few times to call her but she wasn’t answering. The next morning I was out and he comes up to me with his phone and says that it’s his wife! So we got to chat for a little while. It was so good for my heart! She asked what I was doing and I said that I would be in South Sudan for a little while. She said “Yes, you would come here, but it’s not possible?” And I said, “Yes, it’s not possible.” Assured her I’d been praying for her and others and would continue to pray. And I was hoping that someday (soon) I could return. She told me she knew I’d been praying; that one of the boys that I’m able to sort of keep in touch with had told her.

It feels so good to connect! Oh man, so good. I would hate for them to think that I left and just forgot about them or left them hanging. So I’m not sure if it is any consolation to them at all but it makes me feel better at least that they know how I feel.

I know, know that he, and she, and their family and probably all of their friends and community are facing hard times. I learned later from one of the teachers at the college that a few months ago their house, that he’d built, had been seized by the government and burned down by them. This is the second time that’s happened. Neither he nor she complained about that or anything else. Not once! I have much to learn from my brothers and sisters of the faith in this land.

What an unexpected blessing on this trip. Oh the good gifts the Father gives! Here’s to hoping this is the first of many connections.

Independence Day

The last few days I've spent in Melut, a large village along the Nile where there is a small theological college. I was looking at a project with orphans and a school there. I was also able to visit with some friends I knew in my desert home. They studied Arabic at the same school I did for almost a year. They are a lovely family and I thoroughly enjoyed visiting and catching up with them.

July 9 was South Sudan’s second independence day. There was a big celebration  across the street with lots of speeches, singing, dancing and general celebrating. We were just there for a little while, It’s always nice to share in celebrations. The people up here are mostly Dinka, who are well known for being quite tall, so pretty much kids over the age of, um, 10, are taller than me. So I didn’t actually get to see a whole lot. J

There are a few khawaja (white foreigner) families here in Melut, but in outer areas there aren’t so many. For the celebrations big lorries of excited folks came in from surrounding villages and areas. We went back later in the afternoon to catch the dancing and drumming. Unfortunately, we got there just as it was ending. And I think all of the kids (and teenagers and some adults) thought that our little group was the next act! More than once we became surrounded with curious folks shaking our hands, petting our heads, and in some cases taking pictures with their phones. We made our way across the lot and the ladies I was with knew a family who lived nearby. We were able to duck in for a visit and escape the crowd.

We had a lovely time with their friends. We sat in a mud-walled tukul and had a nice visit with these ladies they know who work at the college compound. It felt familiar, shooting the breeze chatting away with a bunch of ladies in Arabic drinking hot tea spiced with cardamom and cinnamon, eating overly-sweet caramels that they reserve for holidays and special occasions. We talked about the festivities, sick friends, and somehow got on the subject of childbirth. One lady shared how she’d delivered two babies breech in her home. The first, a little boy, didn’t survive. The second, her youngest girl she delivered after two day so of labor in her home. When she finally came out she wasn’t breathing so they slapped her with cold water until the little one started gasping and crying. She shared this with such calm and ease it was as if she was talking about what she was making for dinner. These ladies possess an immeasurable amount of strength.

 

Later that day I was chatting to a few of the people on campus and made an exciting discovery. Stay tuned!

Maybe Someday

On Thursday I travelled in a jam packed car for the 100ish-mile trek on a well travelled dirt road from Juba to Yei. It took about 4.5 bumpy hours. It was a beautiful drive. Teak forests and mahogany trees, school children walking, ladies with yellow jerry cans perfectly balanced on their heads. High grasses, sacred-looking mountains, blue skies full of towering clouds.

Back in 2009 I visited Yei, an orphanage here, to see about opportunities for me to work with them. It didn't work out, which was frustrating at the time, but like many things I look back and I'm grateful that it didn't. At that time I thought that this was the Africa I wanted to live in. Poor with many needs. Red dirt roads, tropical fruit, villages full of tukuls (round mud houses with thatch roofs), green landscapes. It was what I had been dreaming of. I ended up instead in a busy city in the desert. And I learned to love it there.

So now that I'm back it doesn't feel quite right. Because it's not the people I grew to love or a place that became a home.

I was able to visit with a friend who lives here who got to the field about the same time I did in Dec 2010. We walked to the shop to get some things and on the way she was stopping and chatting with all kinds of people. I had a pang of jealousy. Why did she get to be in a place for two years and then leave and come back and I can't? The feeling was fleeting. His ways are higher than our ways and I rest in that. Living comparing our circumstances to others is asking for a despairing heart.

Maybe you are sick of hearing me lament these things. This ache and longing for where I was and the people I love there. And I don't hope to dwell on it. But I'm a pretty honest person. And--honestly--I still think about them all the time.

I keep seeing the boys in the people here. A mouth shape, a voice, a nose, a way of walking. I miss them. Oh, do I miss them.

I'm slightly fearful of never settling into a place again and also fearful that I will and that place won't be my desert home. I'm scared of becoming ingrained in another place and that my love for the my desert country will wane. But I'm also scared that I'll hold too tightly to that and won't full invest myself elsewhere. But I think God gives us an ever expanding capacity in our hearts for people. Others never get pushed out as new ones enter in.

So, I'm not sure if South Sudan could ever feel like home, but maybe someday.

First Nights in the South

I am currently in South Sudan. Was in Juba, the capital, for a few days and now I am doing a bit of travelling outside the city. In many ways it is very different from my previous home in N. Africa, but not different enough for it to feel completely foreign. And, I have noticed, after living in an African city on your own for a few years, navigating a new one is much less intimidating.

For instance, my accommodation while I was in Juba was something that, 2.5 years ago, would have petrified me. I mentioned this to one of my leaders that I'm travelling with and she replied "Two years ago I wouldn't have left you there!"

See, there is a project working with street girls that said they could have accommodation for me while I visited. They didn't have anything available at the center the first 3 days I was there (they will starting late next week when I stay for longer). But they are working on a guesthouse. It is not finished yet, but there are rooms there with beds. The electricity was super unreliable (this is apparently true for all of Juba) and there was no running water at all. No biggie.

I couldn't bolt the outside gate that goes to the street or the front door because the lady had vaguely mentioned that someone else may have been flying in that evening. (She didn't).

So, the coulda'-shoulda'-woulda' been petrifying part was the fact that there was nooo oneeee else staying there at all. Not a soul! So I spent my first night (and second and third...) in a brand new city in an unfinished guest house all by myself. There are bars on the windows, and my door locked, which gave me enough peace of mind to sleep without being (that) concerned for my safety.

'Tis so sweet to trust in Jesus, am I right?

My days here so far have been very full and very social, which is good in some ways, but also draining. But it looks like there could be the quite good possibility of a place that just happens to need someone with my particular skill set for at least some length of tome. So I am encouraged by that potential. Still lots to figure out. So we shall see!

Here

Hello, hello. Back in Africa!

I am safe and sound in South Sudan now, though the place I am staying for the next few days would have petrefied me 2 years ago. But that is a story for another time! I will be doing a good deal of travelling in the next couple of weeks. Internet and electricity are a bit wishy-washy so I will try to bring more thorough updates as I can. My schedule is also staying incredibly full as I try to fit in as much as I can while I try to find a place "to land" here.

Thank you for your prayer and support! Will update more as I can!