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.