Picture Journal - More Juba and also... Aweil

(Special note... I originally began and completed this blog entry on August 26th.  After several hours of work I 'published' and my internet browser immediately crashed and I lost everything.  I cried a little and then started over.  I only got half way before it was time to run off to some engagement.  Anyway, I forgot all about it until today.  So here I am, finishing what I started nearly a month ago.)

I have no deep thoughts to share today.  But I do have pictures.  Here are a few more photos from my journey.

In my first photo-blog, I included pictures of the house where Holly and I lived for our short stay in Juba.  This is the front porch of that home.  You can see the guard-shack on the right side of the picture.  The window seen to the right of the porch is the bedroom where Holly slept.  My room is left of the porch and the last window on the left is another bedroom.  That one belongs to the home owner, Jessica, who was on vacation.

front of house - Juba, SS

There were 3 more bedrooms on the back side of the home.  One of those bedrooms belongs to Al.  He was also away on holiday.

These are Al and Jessica's vehicles.  Also seen... another window to Jessica's room, a storage shed, and the source of running water to the home.  Those big tanks hold the water that is used for showering, toilet flushing, and hand/dish washing.

The water is brought up from the Nile in big trucks and pumped into the tanks.  After being used, the water empties into a septic tank in the back yard.  Eventually another truck comes and pumps out the septic and takes the water back to the Nile.  If there is any sort of filtering or cleaning in between these processes, I would be very surprised.

FYI, there is a well on this property.  It is directly behind where I am standing in this picture.  They hope to have that hooked up to the plumbing someday.  It would certainly be much cleaner.  And they could filter the water and drink it instead of buying bottled water all the time.

side of house - Juba, SS

During my investigation of the property, I was shocked to discover this Shrike (and several others) in a tree in the backyard.  Shrikes are familiar and so this little one made me feel at home.

young shrike - Juba, SS

Here is my room.  The bed was not comfortable.  It was hot and stuffy unless the power was on and the fan was running (as it was most evenings from 7pm until 11pm).  But it had mosquito netting on the bed and it was my personal space in a strange place; so I was extremely thankful for it.

my room - Juba, SS

It was clean and - after I added a sheet to cover the window - it was private.  What more does one need?

Because of the difficulties with electricity (and the added frustration of no gas for the oven) Holly and I had to venture out into the streets of Juba to find our meals.  We ate one lunch at the IAS Office and we had a dinner at a restaurant.  The rest of our meals were purchased at street vendors or corner markets.

Nice part of town - Juba, SS

This was our favorite food stall and we visited it more than once during our 4 days in Juba.  She sells chicken and chips and some sort of potato stew.  The chicken is already cooked (deep fried) and then stored in the glass fronted box.  The chicken is not store-bought.  She probably raises her own and butchers them herself each morning.

Chicken & Chips - Juba, SS

When we arrived at her cart we would tell her what part of the chicken we preferred and she would throw it back into the fryer to reheat.  She would also cook the potatoes at that time.  They were as fresh as the chicken.  After she boxed it all up we paid about $4 total for both meals.  It definitely took longer than ordering fast food, but it cost less and tasted a million times better.  Honestly, it was the best chicken I've ever had.  Apparently it really does taste better fresh.  Also, no genetic tampering or growth hormones.

delicious dinner - Juba, SS

The vegetables were deliciously fresh and perfectly ripe.  I even ate some of the onion and I don't like raw onion.  That's how good it was.  I did not eat the spaghetti.  That is added to make the meal seem "fancy".  Greasy noodles are not yummy, but greasy chicken is scrumptious.

samosa - Juba, SS

I also tried my first samosa. This one was filled with beans and I thoroughly enjoyed it.

Holly and I arrived in Juba in the late afternoon on Thursday, 27 June.  And we left Monday morning, 1 July.  Our flight to Aweil was pleasant.  The plane was the smallest I have ever flown on and it was very loud.  But the pilot seemed to know what he was doing and we landed (relatively) smoothly on the dirt runway in Aweil.  That is when I encountered the strangest airport I have ever seen.  Actually, I think it is more appropriate to call it an airfield - it's certainly more descriptive.

I know this sort of thing is normal in much of the world, but it was my first "bush" experience.  Of course, this is downright fancy compared to the runway at the clinic in Nyinbuli.  I'll have to ask Holly to send a picture of it because I forgot to take one. It was not an impressive sight.

Aweil Airfield - Northern Bahr el Ghazal State, SS

The open-fronted tukul is the check-in/baggage retrieval/waiting area.  And the W.F.P. tent is where the security check is done before boarding.  There is another open-fronted tukul to the right of the tent (a second waiting area) and right of that is the office - a small, enclosed tukul with 2 desks inside.  The outhouse (another grass tukul) is about 50 yards behind and beyond the W.F.P. tent.  I had the displeasure of using it twice before our car arrived.  Thank you, Jesus, Holly had toilet paper in her bag!

The structures under the trees to the left are food stalls.  There were more than I would have thought necessary for that tiny airport.  The motorcycle is parked in what might be thought of as a parking lot, but I got the impression you could park wherever you wanted.  The log that can be seen in the picture is actually a bench.  There were two.  Holly and I were sitting on the other one as I took this picture.

Just past the office, on the right, I noticed this home and decided to take a picture.  It amused me that people were living and growing crops right there at the airfield.

tukuls and crops at Aweil Airfield

I believe the crop is sorghum, something I saw everywhere and still can't identify.  It is one of the staple foods for the region.  I ate quite a lot of it, most often in the form of a stiff porridge called Acita.  I'm not sure of the spelling.  It was pronounced uh-see-ta and is similar to ugali, which I also ate.  I preferred the ugali, but I was alone in that opinion.  I did like the mandazi that was made with the sorghum.  Actually, I just really like mandazi and it doesn't matter what you make it with.  Okay, moving on...

So, I took the above pictures and then I turned around and took this one.  This is the airstrip as seen from the parking area in front of the office.  Okay, actually the airstrip is the orange road at the horizon of this picture.  The rest of the cleared (grass-free) area seems to be used for parking.  If you look closely you can also see the road to Aweil heading off to the left.

Aweil Airfield, the runway - Northern Bahr el Ghazal State, SS

Holly and I landed in Aweil at around 10:30am.  Unfortunately, IAS Nyinbuli thought we were coming in the afternoon.  We waited on our bench under the tree for about 3 hours.  We made the best of it.  Holly had Despicable Me in her iPod Touch and we watched that until the battery gave out.  We ate some food we had packed for the trip; hard boiled eggs, crackers, and dried fruit.  And we watched the people; especially the children.

Meanwhile, the manager of the airfield watched out for us and checked on us several times.  He was very concerned that we hadn't been picked up yet.  When the place closed down and everyone left he was nearly beside himself with worry.  But we had contacted the Juba office and they had contacted Nyinbuli so we knew someone was coming.

Tired people - Aweil airfield, SS

Still, we were extremely relieved to see the truck when it came down the road.  Brian - a missionary pastor from Kenya serving in Nyinbuli along with his wife (Deborah, clinical officer) and son (Daniel, two year old) - and Bulis - a native, employed by IAS as driver - were extremely apologetic.  We piled into the Land Cruiser and headed into Aweil proper for some shopping and lunch.  Oh, and to pick up Emmanuel, another Kenyan missionary (clinical officer / nurse) who had been attending a meeting.

The Aweil market was crowded and colorful.  Holly and I wandered a bit in the narrow aisles, but we attracted too much attention and the crowds became overwhelming so we made our way back to the truck.

Overwhelmed person

Weather-wise, Aweil was cooler than Juba had been.  I'm certain this was partly because structures and people weren't quite so pressed in on each other.  There was also a breeze.  Still, this was rainy season so it was humid and muddy and sticky.  Honestly, at this point I was feeling hungry, tired, and uncomfortable.  I really just wanted to move on and find a bed to sleep in.  But the shopping needed to be done if we were to have anything to eat in the coming weeks.  With God's help I remained cheerful and open to the experience.

Person who feels right at home

As far as I could tell, Holly was not having any problem being cheerful.  She was ecstatic to be so close to her new home and she was pleased to be sharing all this stuff with me.  Holly helped me to get through this exhausting day.  She let me be quiet and distant when I was feeling particularly overwhelmed.  She talked about and explained things without my having to ask.  She went out of her way to help me see what was beautiful and precious about the place and the people.

Walking in the market - Aweil, SS

Speaking of beautiful and precious... The woman pictured below called out to me from her little store and motioned me over.  She was all smiles and very chatty, but I couldn't understand a word she was saying.  Brian came over and told me that she had seen my camera and wanted me to take her picture.  It seemed odd to me, but I obliged and then showed this picture to her.  She laughed and smiled and I decided that I was very glad I had taken it.  It turns out that, unlike Americans, the South Sudanese like to have their pictures taken by strangers.

friendly people - Aweil, SS

I'm not sure how long we spent driving up and down the lanes and shopping in the Aweil market, but it felt like an eternity.  Finally we were done (maybe 2pm) and we decided it was time to have some lunch.  I was amused by some of the names of the 'fancy' restaurants.  I think they are trying to appeal to western travelers and foreign aid workers.

"fancy" restaurant - Aweil, SS

We ate a late lunch at the BBC Restaurant (I'm pretty sure there is no affiliation with the BBC).  Anyway, we parked across the street and then walked over to the hand-washing station to the right of the building.  It was a large, raised trough with several spigots and little bars of bright blue soap.  I washed my hands when it was my turn and was also introduced to a new normal.

In SS (like in America), people wash their hands before and after meals, but they also wash their mouths and do a lot of spitting.  Eew.  Spitting is very common, so is nose picking, same-sex hand holding, and into-hand nose blowing (no tissues available).  Not so common... hugging, public farting, crying, kleenex using, shirt wearing, etc.

another "fancy' restaurant - Aweil, SS

In the above photo, you can actually see our table.  We were served a thick lentil soup, flatbread, and bottles of almost cold Pepsi - no utensils.  We said a blessing and then began eating.  I was told that all food handling must be done with the right hand.  Umm, how do you tear flat bread with one hand only?  I couldn't figure that out, so I was a dirty American and used both.  I did try to be sneaky about it.  The meal was a bit more bland than I was expecting, but still pretty tasty.

While Holly, Brian, and I ate lunch; Bulis stayed with the car to ward off thieves.  After our meal; we retrieved Emmanuel from his meeting and then took him and Bulis some place for a bite while we waited in the SUV.  Afterwards we were finally ready to leave Aweil and head to Nyinbuli.  This is when I discovered why we had left the thing running all day.

Oh, did I not mention that whenever we stopped the car was left on?  Guess what?  Bad starter.  Yes, as you may have surmised, the car picked this moment to die.  Yay, I got to help push-start a Land Cruiser on a muddy street whilst wearing a full skirt.  Yes, I tripped on the edge of my skirt and nearly fell in the muck, but we did get the car started.  And that is when the real test began.

I know I have mentioned (many times) the amazingly awful roads in South Sudan.  That is only because they are totally awful.  The worst roads I have ever encountered in my admittedly very limited experience.  For the next 3 and a half hours we bounced along 80 miles of one of those roads.  I actually took video of the road on my way back to Aweil.

As you can see on my return trip it had been a rainy morning, but on my way from Aweil to Nyinbuli we were heading directly west into the glorious afternoon sun.  We stopped one time for a side-of-the-road pee break.  My bladder may have appreciated the release, but there was no way I was going to empty it there.  Way too much audience and not enough cover.  But it was a relief to stop bouncing for a few minutes.  Of course, the car died again, but we managed to push-start despite the ubiquitous, canyon-esque potholes. 

We continued our westward journey and I managed to do what should have been impossible.  I actually fell asleep.  Or at least dozed.  At a certain point we got to the newest portion of the road and it leveled off.  What a relief.  By the way, I should have mentioned, when we weren't slowing down for enormous holes in the road, we were stopping for herds of cattle or sheep or goats.  And for those who think it may be fun to just ram the animals... do you enjoy being shot?  Actually, I don't know if anyone would shoot you, but the traditional economy is based on livestock and killing an animal that didn't belong to you would probably be a very serious offense.

Okay, I should stop speculating on things I don't really understand.  Where did I leave off my story?  Oh yeah, the road finally leveled off, I dozed, and then..... We arrived.  We drove and drove and drove and drove and then were suddenly just there.  The road is very nearly a straight line from Aweil to Nyinbuli (and on) so it was somehow shocking to be turning off into the bush.  And then I was shocked again when in about a quarter mile we were passing the clinic I had seen in Holly's pictures.  And then another quarter mile and we were pulling into the gate of the IAS compound in Nyinbuli.

IAS Compound - Nyinbuli, SS

Following Holly's joyous reunions and my shy introductions, we were shown our temporary home - after 3 days in the guest room Holly and I would move into the room she shares with Divinah, but at the moment of our arrival there was another guest occupying that space.

Holly showed me around the compound and then we went back to our room to do a little unpacking and settling in.  During our long drive I had noticed that I had maybe gotten a bit of a sunburn.  Yes, I had been instructed to wear sunscreen whenever I was going to be spending time in direct sunlight, but I had not taken that excellent advice on this particular day.  So I received my first (and only major) sunburn of my month in equatorial Africa.

super-attractive picture of sweaty, sunburned person

That burn sucked, but it healed in record time - I didn't even peel - and I was so distracted by the wonder of being in a foreign land that I mostly didn't notice the burn.  Except at night.  Sleeping was not helped by tender, sweaty skin.  But I'll talk more about sleeping and other Nyinbuli adventures in the next Picture Journal.... which I'm sure I will get around to writing soon.

Time-out

I have been home (in America) now for just over 2 weeks and every day I promise myself I will update this blog tomorrow.

There is so much that I have left unsaid - so many stories I've left untold - and now that I'm back in the states it has become so much harder to tell them.  It's not simply time and distance; the things I experienced just don't seem as real to me anymore and that makes me terribly sad.  I can't hear the village sounds or smell the village air.  There are no chickens shuffling around in the grass outside my room.  There are no village children staring in the windows at me.  There is no clinic to walk to everyday and there are no smiling neighbors testing my language skills with frequent greetings.  Everything here is just so disgustingly American.

Every day in Nyinbuli was an adventure.  Every moment was filled with possibility and newness.  I never knew what was going to happen next.  One morning, as I was walking to the clinic with Debbie and Divina, I noticed a snail on the path.  It had rained overnight so the creature was probably lingering in the cool clay before the hot sun chased it back into the grass.  A snail is not so unusual, except this snail was as big as my fist.  When I see a snail here at home it's usually about the size of my pinky fingernail or if I'm at the wetlands I might see a snail the size of a baby's fist.  And either way it's gonna be a snail with a flat, circular shell.  This snail had a long, tapered, conch-like shell.  It was the most incredible snail I had ever seen.  Of course, I'd left my camera in my room.

But now I'm home.  Things are "normal" again.  And I'm expected to step right back into the life I left as if nothing has changed.  In fact, I'm not allowed to have changed.  Too much is expected of me... I'm too dependable or depended on.  I can't leave and I can't have any other plans for awhile because everyone needs me to stay right where I am and refill that gap I left empty for a month and half.  When they are all done with me, then I can start to have a life.  I'm somehow, paradoxically, overwhelmed by the low expectations of my friends and family.

Ugh, I know this is just "feelings" and not the truth.  I am loved and people want me to pursue God and His purpose for my life.

I wish I knew what His purpose is for my life.

Pursuing God is really so much more difficult for me here.  There is so much distraction.  I'm afraid that I will never have that feeling of total dependence that I had in Africa.  I'm afraid because I'm pretty sure when I wake up tomorrow I won't feel the awe and excitement that I felt there every morning.  What if I it was all just a spiritual high?  What if every thought and feeling and revelation I had in Nyinbuli was just the result of an overstimulated, overly emotional mind?  Is it time to come back to the real world and realize that this is all there is for me?  Was I crazy to think that I could be more?  That I could have more?

I don't think so.  I think God has plans for me.  I think He wants to do a work in and through me.  And I think I want to let Him.  Yeah, I'm scared.  I'm weak.  I'm a lot of other wimpy things.  But He is strong and His power is made perfect in [my] weakness.  When I am feeling this uncertain and (let's just admit it) depressed, the only thing I know to do is go to God's Word.

Jeremiah 29: 11-13
"...For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Then you will call on me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart."

John 15: 5a, 11, 15-16
I am the vine, and you are the branches. If you abide in Me and I in you, you will bear great fruit... I want you to know the delight I experience, to find ultimate satisfaction, which is why I am telling you all of this... I don't call you servants any longer; servants don't know what the master is doing, but I have told you everything the Father has said to Me. I call you friends. You did not choose Me. I chose you, and I orchestrated all of this so that you would be sent out and bear great and perpetual fruit. As you do this, anything you ask the Father in My name will be done. 

Isaiah 61: 1
The Spirit of the Sovereign LORD is upon me, for the LORD has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent me to comfort the brokenhearted and to proclaim that captives will be released and prisoners will be freed.

Philippians 3: 10-14
I want to know Him [Christ] inside and out. I want to experience the power of His resurrection and join in His suffering, shaped by His death, so that I may arrive safely at the resurrection from the dead. I'm not there yet, nor have I become perfect; but I am charging on to gain anything and everything the Anointed One, Jesus, has in store for me--and nothing will stand in my way because He has grabbed me and won't let me go. Brothers and sisters, as I said, I know I have not arrived; but there's one thing I am doing: I'm leaving my old life behind, putting everything on the line for this mission. I am sprinting toward the only goal that counts: to cross the line, to win the prize, and to hear God's call to resurrection life found exclusively in Jesus the Anointed.

Ephesians 2: 10
For [I] am the product of His hand, heaven's poetry etched on lives, created in the Anointed, Jesus, to accomplish the good works God arranged long ago.

2 Timothy 1: 7-8a, 11
For God has not given us a spirit of fear and timidity, but of power, love, and self-discipline. So never be ashamed to tell others about our Lord.... And God chose me to be a preacher, an apostle, and a teacher of this Good News.

Thank You, Father God, for making me for a purpose. Help me to passionately and whole-heartedly pursue You. I feel weak and alone, but I am neither because You are with me. You are Emmanuel.  You are with us.
Thank You, Holy Spirit; I will not fear because You are with me. I will step out in faith, even if I cannot see where my next step will land, and You will be faithful to guide me and to protect me. Even if I fall, I know You will catch me. Even if I fail.
Thank You, Lord Jesus, for loving me so totally. Thank You for making a way for me to have such a wonderful adventure with You in Nyinbuli.  I pray that You will make a way for me to go back again someday.
My God, please watch over Holly as she continues to serve You in that beautiful and difficult place. I pray that You would use her in miraculous ways. You are good, Lord. Amen.

Picture Journal - Traveling and Juba

Photos, finally....

Holly and I boarded a plane at Orlando International Airport.  We flew to Dulles International in Washington, DC and stayed overnight in a hotel.

That is Holly waving from our king-sized bed in the only room available in all of Washington, DC.  It was super-expensive, but we did get a delicious continental breakfast.

The next morning we took the hotel shuttle back to the airport.  We checked in at Ethiopian Air (standing in the longest, slowest line ever) and eventually boarded and began the 14 hour flight to Addis Ababa International Airport in Ethiopia.

This is a photo of a plane very similar to ours after landing at Addis.

Yes, we exited the plane in the open air.  First time for me.  And then we got on a tram/bus/thing that drove us to the terminal.

I learned a fun fact on this short journey that would become very important for the rest of my time in Africa.  Apparently you can drive on whichever side of the road you want.

Here I am sitting in Addis Ababa airport.  I was excited to discover that this part of Ethiopia is at a fairly high altitude.  We were surrounded by beautiful mountains and lush forest, but it was pretty chilly and I did not have a sweater.  So, Holly and I had some traditional Ethiopian coffee to warm ourselves up.

BEST.  COFFEE.  EVER.  No sugar or cream necessary.  It was the most amazing coffee I have ever had the pleasure of drinking.  This really surprised me because everything in this airport looked incredible sketchy and possibly diseased (ask me about the bathroom later).

Addis Ababa Airport has many lounge chairs scattered about so that you can take a nap between flights.  When you have been in the air for 14 hours and now have long layover these chairs look like the most comfortable sleeping surface in the world.  Unfortunately for us, in this part of the world, only stinky men get to use the awesome chair-beds.  We had to make do with regular, everyday seating.

See us trying to be cheerful about it?

After waiting for many hours for 2 chairs to become available, we gave up and headed to our departure gate only to discover upon our arrival that there was nowhere to sit.  Again, stinky men get priority.  Ladies have to stand or sit on the floor.  We opted for the floor.

Finally, we boarded our plane.  It looked a lot like this one.

It isn't this one though, because I took this picture from my seat on our plane.  But I think that you can get the general idea of shock and awe I was feeling at this moment.  (This plane has propellers.  Ack!)

Despite my distrust of this particular aircraft, we had a very pleasant flight to Juba, where we again exited in the open air.  In fact, you should take the open-air exit as a given when traveling in this part of the world.

We landed safely in Juba and were met at the airport by two gentlemen from the IAS office there.  They helped us find our bags and get them to the SUV.  Holly and I were very glad to be arrived in Juba so we relaxed in the backseat and chatted with these new friends.

The road you see out the front window is paved - I think we can call it "Main Street" - and it is the only paved road I saw in Juba. 

There are no traffic lights and no street signs.  On the paved road we stayed on the right.  I was quite relieved.  Soon though we were on deeply rutted dirt roads where everybody just took their half out of whatever side they wanted.

Juba is the capital city of South Sudan.  Just remember that when you read these facts.

• There is no electricity except what privately owned generators provide.
• There is no plumbing.  If people have a toilet or bathing facility at all, it is generally outside.  Toilets are outhouses and baths are buckets.
• Actually, some places do have indoor facilities and plumbing, but the water used comes from a huge tank (like having a personal water tower).  You pay a fee to have this tank filled by a couple dudes (city or government employees?) in a big truck.  This water would not be considered potable by U.S. standards.
• There is no drainage.  There are no gutters.
• There is no road maintenance.
• There is no garbage collection.  The roads are filled with piles and piles of empty plastic water bottles (because you can't drink the city water and there is no garbage pick up).

This is a picture of a street running parallel to the one the IAS compound and our borrowed house are on.  The garbage piles and  ruts you see are not on the shoulder.  They are in the middle of the road.  This road is actually pretty nice because so many foreign agencies and NGOs are located in this neighborhood.

Every home or business has a wall around it and a guard or two stationed on property.  We had a watchman at our house too.  Juba is a dangerous city and it was comforting to have him there.

The next 2 pictures are the view from our front door, first to the left and then to the right.  You can see the entry gate and the watchman's hut in one and in the other you can see the wall around our home and one of the previously mentioned water tanks in the distance.

Well, that is all for now.  This process of posting pictures takes a very long time here in Nyinbuli, so I will have to do another post another day.  I plan to show you more of Juba and tell you about our stay there.  I will also (eventually) post photos of Aweil and Nyinbuli.  And I have been asked to show some of the creatures I have been able to photograph.  I hope this will pacify you for now.

And here are two final pictures for this entry.  This is the yard and the office of the IAS compound in Juba.

  

This office is in the support partner for the mission in Nyinbuli.

Please pray that the IAS office in Juba and the IAS clinic in Nyinbuli would be of one mind, one heart, and one vision.  And that the provider of these ideals would be God alone.  Pray that these two teams, would be united in doing God's good work in South Sudan.

And as you pray, come against the enemy that would interfere in these things.  Pray that God's Spirit would reign here.  That His will would be done here.  And that His people would  not be pulled to the right or to the left but would press on toward the goal.

Thank you for your warfare.  Your prayers are vital to this place.

Sunset in Nyinbuli

Uncomfortable

There is something about being uncomfortable that all of us (especially Americans) despise and therefore avoid. I'm not talking about pain per se, although that may be part of it. I mostly mean discomfort, something that is more an annoyance or temporary condition. Here are some of the uncomfortable things I have experienced recently...

The pins and needles feeling of not just your foot and leg, but also your butt falling asleep. Being in a closed space with a bad smell (being in an open space with a bad smell). Heat rash. The dull ache in your thighs brought about by having to squat to toilet. Bug bites. Being hot, constantly. Being too hot to sleep. Exhaustion. Dirty bathrooms. Bad chair/bed. A (very) long car ride down a (horribly) bumpy road. Airplane toilets. Airplane seats. Airplanes. Stinky airplanes. Being a woman surrounded by Islamist men (welcome to Addis Ababa Airport). Wearing skirts all the time. No eye contact with men. Strange food and strange customs. Swarming flies in the outhouse. Those flies landing on your bum as you try to accomplish your mission. Bees in the bathing stall. Spiders in the bathing stall. Anything alive in the bathing stall other than yourself. Bats flying into your room at night. Being surrounded by people who stare at you because you are white. Being mobbed by children (and adults) because you are holding a camera. Shaking the hands of people who are obviously dirty and or sick. Holding a baby who is not wearing a diaper. Being really dirty.  Bathing out of a bucket. I could go on and on and on and on.

So, I don't want you to think I am whining or complaining (much). These things are just part of life here or part of what it takes to get here. And being here is well worth it. Being here is awesome. Being here totally rocks my world. I am so amazed every day – I am in AFRICA! Instead of just wishing I am actually doing. Wow! Anyway, back to the point I was so awkwardly trying to make. It seems to me that if you want to actually DO anything to serve God and His children, then it is going to be uncomfortable. I think it's time to just accept this as fact. I mean, if you are only interested in serving yourself then I guess you don't really have to worry about it, but if you desire to do the mission you have been given – caring for the least, the lost, and the lonely, feeding the hungry, healing the sick, educating the ignorant, encouraging the brokenhearted, defending the downtrodden, loving the unlovable, touching the untouchable, carrying the truth of the love of Jesus Christ to the hurting world, any of that stuff – then you are gonna have to endure the hardship of some kind of discomfort.

Last summer, my church participated in a county-wide, multi-congregational, week-long, mission project called “Celebrate Jesus”. I remember how reluctant I was to knock on peoples doors and ask them about their needs - a key aspect of the mission. They were strangers, and strangers make me very uncomfortable. They might have said something mean or rejected me or asked questions I couldn't answer. They might have had needs I couldn't meet. What if they had smelled bad? What if they were drunk or high or dangerous? I imagined multiple scenarios of terrible discomfort and very nearly talked myself out of participating. To be sure, I did meet some of the very things I was fearing, but the world did not end. In fact, I discovered that in my discomfort I was far more likely to depend on God.

I begged the Lord three times to liberate me from its anguish; and finally He said to me, "My grace is enough to cover and sustain you. My power is made perfect in weakness." So ask me about my thorn, inquire about my weaknesses, and I will gladly go on and on---I would rather stake my claim in these and have the power of the Anointed One at home within me.

2 Corinthians 12: 8-9 (The Voice)

I have found the lessons of 2 Corinthians 12: 8-9 to be even truer here in South Sudan. It is in my weaknesses that God's mighty power shows through. So I must allow myself to be weak. I must be willing to step into a situation that is beyond me. If I want to see my God be mighty then I must be willing to be uncomfortable. I am so glad - so very, very glad - that God made a way for me to come here to Nyinbuli. How sad it would have been to have gone my whole life and never seen the greatness of my God. And I know that He is greater still. He is more awesome than I have seen and more awesome than I can imagine. Oh, thank You, Lord, for sending me to this hard place. I was blind, but now I see.

I hope and pray that this is a break-through in my Christian walk, and not just a momentary spiritual high. I want to be willing to go to the hard places, the uncomfortable place. I want to be willing to do the scary thing. I want to be willing to step into challenge. And I want to be willing to do this for the rest of my life. I don't want to retire from it or grow out of it or grow too old for it. Because it is in this danger zone that I have discovered a tendency to cling to Jesus. I have found it necessary to trust in my Savior. I am exalting in the closeness of Him. It's like I can smell the breath of the Spirit here and it is so sweet. I don't know that I should want to give that up for the safety that we Americans are always praying for. Even though the very thought brings tears to my eyes and fear to my heart, I would rather be out on this dangerous ocean where my feet may fail than anywhere else – whether it be the safe boat or the safe shore or the safe whatever – because this is where my Lord is. And isn't that the place I should want to be? He is my Safety. He is the Cleft of the Rock. He is my Shelter and my Strong Tower. He is my Shepherd. Not the boat, not the shore, not my mom and dad, or my A/C and plumbing, or my friends or the US government, or my home or my church. It is Him, my Savior. My Salvation. My God. Mine. And I am His.

Nyinbuli - Day 4

I have been here in Nyinbuli, S. Sudan for 4 days now.  Every experience is a new one and it has been hard for me to even bring my brain to a place where I can be concise.  Even now I am not sure of my ability to actually tell you anything useful about this place.  So be prepared for more random thoughts and rambling.

First thing of note, the roads here are terrible.  I know I informed you (better than complaining) about the roads in Juba and how terrible they were. Well that was the capital city, imagine how much worse they could be out here in the bush.  I am thankful that there is a road, but what a road.

We flew from Juba to Aweil on Monday.  A 1 hour and 30 minute flight.  We landed on a dirt landing strip and taxied up to the airfield office, which was little more than a shack and a tent.  I took pictures and I wish I could share them with you, but I think that will have to wait.  The internet here is reliable but it doesn't seem to have the bandwidth to support photo uploads today.

Anyway, Holly and I waited at the airstrip outside Aweil for several hours.  Unfortunately our IAS Nyinbuli team thought we were to arrive on the afternoon flight.  Oh well.  We were picked up eventually and we headed into Aweil town to do shopping for the team and to have lunch.

This town was much prettier than Juba.  It was almost suburban.  Well, underdeveloped-suburban.  We went to the market and Holly and I walked around a bit until we decided we were gaining too much attention (White People!) so we went back to the truck to wait.  After an hour or more of market shopping we had a lunch at the cleverly named BBC Restaurant (right down the street from 5 Stars Restaurant).  I'm pretty sure the place has no association with the BBC, it is only named that to sound posh and to attract foreigners.

Finally, we got on the road to Nyinbuli, a 130km (about 81 miles) trip.  It took us more than 3.5 hours.  The road is wide and straight and so rutted and washed out that you cannot maintain a traveling speed.  Sometimes you must inch around a deep hole or go off the road completely to avoid a small pond in the middle of it.  Or perhaps there is a herd of goats or sheep or cows that must be driven through.  And for those of you who might just want to ram the animals in frustration, keep in mind that those herds are the only money most of these people have.  They are the basis of the local economy.  If you kill one of those animals you must find the owner and pay them back (probably double).

So it was a kind of hellish ride, but we made the best of it.  Everyone remained cheerful and we drove into the compound as the sun was beginning to set.

Next point of interest, the clinic.... I have worked in the clinic every day, so far.  It is wonderful.  The clinic is about a quarter mile walk from the fenced IAS compound.  Everyday when we arrive there are already people waiting to see the clinical officers and the midwife.  They register or check-in and then they sit and wait under the sparse trees to be called in for their turn in the exam room.

It is malaria season so some are very sick.  We had two children whose temps were so high we ended up pouring water over them to cool them down.  We also frequently see malnourished or vitamin deficient patients.  I've been told that because of the decades long war and the annihilation of a generation, people do not know how to farm or how to adequately feed themselves and their families.  They are smart and teachable, but they are also frightened and traumatized.

The Dinka also seem set on restoring the population they have lost due to war, so they marry off their young women (not a new trend) and those women endure pregnancy after pregnancy after pregnancy. The mothers wear their poor undernourished bodies out.  They loose babies.  And many mothers die too.  I think S. Sudan and Afganistan have the highest mortality rates among mothers giving birth.

One of the primary focuses of this clinic is to educate people concerning the best way to have strong families.  Today we taught a workshop informing about birth-spacing and family planning. 
And speaking of workshops... I arrived just in time to participate in the three day IAS workshop that was being held here.

There were several hour long sessions every day and each session was on a particular subject.  Subjects included; human rights, conservation, nutrition, leadership, birth planning and childcare, and HIV/AIDS awareness.  South Sudan has not had much exposure to AIDS until now so we are taking advantage of this time to educate the people in the hopes of avoiding a national emergency.  The biggest obstacle to this is that you don't talk about sex here.  At all.  It is considered highly inappropriate.  But we must have these uncomfortable conversations because we want to save lives.

We may scoff at the more strange or even foolish aspects of another culture.  But that is an unfair judgement of something we cannot possibly understand fully because we have not lived their lives.  Instead we must approach all of these issues as simple teachers.  We are bringing information we have learned in our society.  They may do with it what they will.

There are so many other things I would like to tell you.  I wish I could just tell you the stories of all my days and nights here.  But there is not enough time.  I have some other responsibilities.  We have a woman laboring here right now (the first since our arrival) and Holly may desire my presence.

I will leave you with this request, please pray for the women here.  They are second class citizens.  They are baby making machines - that is their primary value to the community.  They are married as young teens (13 or 14 is not so unusual) and they have no choice in the matter.  This is a polygamous culture so disease and abuse is a constant issue.  They are not encouraged to attend school or think of any future beyond being traded for cattle to an old man who will then impregnate them repeatedly until they die or become unable to conceive.

Above I wrote we shouldn't judge another culture too harshly when we don't understand their society.  This kind of abuse, however, is not something we can look past.  A woman is a full person.  She is made by God in His own image.  She is a vital aspect of creation.  She is God's finishing touch on His masterwork - the cherry on top.

When a people undervalue and abuse their women, we must do something to change those hearts.  Here we are educating and giving clinical help.  At home you must pray that the hearts of the people would be changed.  And perhaps if you have money, you can give.  And if you have time, you can give that.  But don't turn your back.  Don't ignore their desperate situation.  Don't agree with the culture that tells them they are nothing.  Then you are just as guilty as the person who has abused them.  These women are beautiful and friendly and charming and caring and full of humor and character.  Please don't dismiss their need.  Spend some time praying for them today.

Father, I thank You for the opportunity to share Your love with the people of Nyinbuli.  Today my heart is aching for the women especially.  Their lives seem so hard and so hopeless, but I know they are seen, understood, and loved by You.  I know You hear their cries of their hearts.  Please, in Your grace and mercy, make a better way for these women.
I pray for the men here too.  I ask that You would soften their hearts and open their eyes to see what their hands have wrought.  Help them to love their wives and to treasure their daughters.
Above all Father, I pray that these people would come to know You as their Savior, the Lover of their souls.  And that by knowing Your love, they would learn to better love each other.
Jesus, I pray these prayers in Your precious name.  Amen.

Juba

So, this is our last night in Juba.  We leave tomorrow morning, early.  Fly to Aweil and then drive 2 or 3 hours to Nyinbuli.  I am not looking forward to the flight, but the drive sounds kind of fun.  (edit: it was not)

I will be very glad to get out of Juba.  The air here is hard to breath.  There is no electricity in this large city so generators run constantly.  Also people are using natural gas and charcoal and wood fires.  When the wind dies the smell is awful.  At night there is a constant dull ache behind the eyes.  It has got to be just terrible for the lungs.

It rained on and off and there was a lovely breeze today.  I am glad that our last day here was so pleasant.  Right now I am standing on the front porch with the computer propped up on the railing.  It is the only place we have internet on the property.  We could go down to the office for a better signal, but it is dangerous to walk the streets at night.

I hope to be able to post some pictures tomorrow or Tuesday.  We will have better access to internet in Nyinbuli than we have had in the city (go figure).  And perhaps I will be able to give a more thoughtful blog post instead of these random updates.  Anyway, there is so much to tell and not enough time to tell it.  The pictures will help, so I look forward to that.

I am so thankful to be here in this tough place so that I can bring it to all of you in a more personal way.  There is much need here.  So much.  I can't understand how we have been so blind and so self-involved.

I don't remember a "rainy-day" fund being part of Jesus' ministry.  Invest that "emergency" money in an actual emergency.  God will take care of you and yours; He has called on you to take care of the least, the lost, and the lonely.  They are out there.  And they need what you have...  Not iPods or television or frozen yogurt, but clean water, a dependable police force, health care of any kind, road maintenance and trash pick up, and Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus!

If you can't come yourself then find a way to give.  If you can't give money or time to mission (local counts), then get on your knees and weep and pray for these people.  Stand in the gap for them.  Be their prayer warrior.  You are literally filled with the Holy Creator of the Universe.  You have power.  PRAY!  Pray without ceasing. Pray with passion.  Pray with fervor.  Pray.

Father God, thank You for this incredible opportunity.  Help me to be what You have called me to be.  Thank You for the amazing prayer warriors You have put into my life.  I can feel their love and support.  Thank You for answered prayer.  I love You, Lord, and I pray that my heart would pour out praise to You for as long as I live.  Amen.