I Can't Pack, My Clothes are Wet!!

01/02/12

The reports are bad this week about the intertribal violence, so my life is a little different than planned...the days are pretty normal, the nights are a little different...the "go bags" are ready in case I have to go, I am packing up everything, every night, just in case this the night I have to flee or to be evacuated on short notice.

This is the story of my second week in Akobo. Sounds pretty interesting, doesn’t it? In a way, it is. It is definitely not the life I had pictured when I came here. 

Yes, I knew there was fighting between the tribes. I even knew some of it happened in this area and the possibility was there that it would reach me. But that was a long way away. I didn’t know the people then. I didn’t live among them. I didn’t walk and visit, and worship with them. They didn’t try to teach me their language and we didn’t laugh together over my blundering attempts.

Now, I walk the road and see the sorrow in their eyes. Now, I know that those 6,000 fighters have to come from some of their families – are their children, their grandchildren, their nephews, friends and relatives. I can’t even begin to imagine how I would feel if it was Alex and Aaron, for they are the same ages as most of the fighters, out there¸ armed with weapons, bent on the total annihilation of a tribe of people. Instead of reading about some far off story, I am living it. I wake up in the morning, stop several times throughout the day, and go to sleep at night praying for an end to the violence and the beginning of peace.

I go to sleep at night praying, “if this is the night they attack, please God, let us all be prepared”, as I line up my shoes facing the right direction to easily slip them on, pack up my computers so they are easy to grab in case I need to, put the food back in my light weight go bag in case I need to flee into the bush and make sure the water is easy to grab out of the big go bag that is there in case we evac by car or plane.

 And during the day, life goes on in its usual pace, walking to the market, meeting with the church leaders, playing with the children and my blundering attempts to learn the language.

This is the reality that has been my last couple of weeks. Do I think it is going to get easier or better? I think this battle is far from over. I fear we are only seeing the beginning. I think that it is vent to many years of hostilities that are building into one giant super-storm of killing and destruction. And I pray, that as a newcomer, I am very, very wrong!

 01/03/12 - I CAN'T PACK - MY CLOTHES ARE WET!!

This is getting more surreal by the moment. Who would have ever thought that within being on the ground in Akobo for less than three weeks, I would be packing again, not to return to the US, but for a destination unknown, on an unknown flight. The only thing I know for sure is that it has been recommended by the Commissioner that I leave before they cannot safely get me out. This is crazy! Insane!! I cannot believe this is happening! NEVER, in my wildest dreams could I have ever conceived the idea that people would be trying to get ME evacuated from somewhere.

Even with my wild, crazy, far-out there imagination, could I have imagined that anyone would go so far and to such great lengths, to make sure I am safe and well cared for! It is almost too big for my head to even be able to hold on to. It just doesn’t even begin to make sense to me. I am having a hard time comprehending it. It is completely overwhelming!!

This entire situation just seems utterly surreal to me!!
I am sitting here with a team of people stretched across at least three countries trying to get me out of a place I feel perfectly safe in and I look up to see a post from my cousin asking if I want more coins in my facebook game!

Side note:  I think sometimes it is the absurd that sticks out in the midst of the chaos swirling around you.  I looking back, I have to laugh.  I remember at one point being on the phone with Michael and he said, "Go pack!"  I stopped in the middle of the compound, looked up to see all my laudry dripping water on the ground where they had just been hung up to dry and telling him, "I can't!  All my clothes are wet."  I just remember a long pause and he started to laugh. In hind sight.  I realize how utterly rediculous it sounded!

This afternoon has been a whirlwind of emails, phone calls, skype conversations and conversations with staff on the ground in here in Akobo. I am sitting still and all this action is going on around me and I am not even sure I know what it is that is happening and that I know in the midst of it all God is in control and he is orchestrating every move that is being made.


I am going to try and make some kind of sense of order out of this…


I think this whole thing started yesterday when I saw the Save the Children staff leaving in their car with all their suitcases on top. It was lunch time and I asked Dr. Carlos if they were evacuating, He said yes. He had been to their compound and they told him it was a good thing he came when he did, they were leaving. It was unclear if they were leaving because of Pibor or they had been called to assist. I passed that on…

After many email’s back and forth, I received word that..






Rev. Gideon and Debbie decided last night that first thing this morning Rev. Peter and I would go to the commissioner’s office and get my un letter signed so I could be evaced if necessary. Instead of leaving with the letter, I left with his recommendation that it was best if I left the area for now, while it could be done safely.


WHAT??!!! Never in my wildest dreams did I expect that answer!! All this up to now, has been one great adventure, Yes, there is insecurity out there, but not close to me. I don’t feel unsafe! A million thoughts went through my head as I tried not to cry. I don’t want to leave!!




Next was the phone call to Michael – of course – it is the middle of the night in the US. The commissioner is doing what he can to make arrangements to get me out as quickly as possible, from what I can tell, besides Dr. Carlos and a couple of his staff people, I am the only international person left in Akobo, and since I was to begin with, I am still the only white person.


I guess there is a lot of truth to the African Proverb I read tonight:


Just because the water is smooth, don’t think the crocodiles aren’t there.


Just wish those crocodiles would go away! And very, very grateful for all the love support and prayers comng my way!!




01.04.2012 – Wednesday - "But sir, I really wrapped him very nicely, he won't get away"...


It is 1:43 pm I am sitting on a UN flight from Akobo to Juba South Sudan. It is hard for me to fatham the amount of work and effort that has gone into getting me here. I am not sure I will ever really know.


What I do know is that we arrived at the air strip this morning at about 9:30. It was a bittersweet walk for me. When we arrived we found the charter had come and gone. So we began the wait for the World Food Program flight. At about 10:45 we heard the first sounds of an approaching air craft as we watched it soar into sight.

I didn’’t know if I had made the manifest or not and so, we waited at the gate for them to call the names. They called the Chinese, they called the Kenyans and they began to call the locals. Rev. Peter told me to go talk to them, so I did. No, they did not have me on the manifest. I admit, I pulled “the” card. I told them it was for a US rescue and that the commissioner had told me to leave the area. I told them my understanding was my agency had been trying very hard to work through the UN and the US Embassy to get me out. He took my name and began to call on the radio, not an easy task using high frequency raido and radio talk to spell each letter, but mission accomplished. He was told he had a red-light for me – that means they cannot add me to the manifest.  He had two children that weren't on the manifest either and their mother was trying to take them with her.

He told me they had room and they would take me any way. I told him if it is a choice between me and getting the children out take the children. But he said no “If the “sh**” is going to break out, we have room and will take you all”. He explained their briefing said there had been another attack in Akobo County, not the village proper, last night. If they can save us they will. And so, I find myself on as an unauthorized passenger on a n UN flight from Akobo to Juba, as an emergency evacuation,, while I Jleave behind those I have come to care so much about.

 Side note: Another, in the midst of the chaos story:  I am standing under the wing of the plane talking to one of the pilots who was telling me to get on the plane.  I looked down, and there is the second pilot, standing by the cargo door with two boxes of dead fish.  He is holding one by the mouth and another is stretched out on top of a box.  He is looking up into the passenger seating area saying "Please sir.  I am going to have to ask you to remove the fish from your bag".  The gentleman he is talking to calmly replies, "But sir, I really wrapped him very nicely.  He won't get out".  To which the pilot calmly replies,"But sir, you really must remove him from the plane"  The man answers again"But I wrapped him very nicely, he won't go anywhere."  I don't know who won the battle, but I suspect, "he" didn't go anywhere.  I smelled dead fish all the way to Juba!

It was so hard to explain last night to my friends that all this effort to get me out isn’t because I am kawyai, white, that if they worked for out agency in the US, they would be making as much effort to get them out as well.

And, so I sit with tears on my face, tears of relief that my friends will not be in danger to protect m and stress tears of gratitude for all that has been done to protect me and keep me safe and tears of grief for those I leave behind.


01.05.12 – Thursday- "Finely Minced Meat in a Finger Shop"

 On my way and Juba photos

I have made it to Juba. I don’t know what to do now, except walk and see what I can of this city by foot. And walk I did! I thought I knew the way to the market area, only I ended up walking about 45 minutes up the Ministry Road. Hot and tired I returned to the compound for a rest and cold drink.  

I didn’t find the market, but I did find some interesting things – a tiny little restaurantt, made from sticks. The sign out front said “Returning Women’s Cooking – the best food in town”. I stopped to eat. I walked around a barbed wire fence with razor wire on the top and bottom, and through a narrow gate to what looked like a stick building. After I made it down the rough pitted road and stepped over the remains of what looked like a bombed out building, probably a remnant of the war, I found several women.

They were sitting on the short stools that are common here, next to fires with various pots cooking on them. One of the women spoke broken English so we were able to talk for a few minutes. I explained that I was hungry and wanted to eat. It wasn’t ready yet, but they were happy to share with me what they were cooking and how. So, I didn’t leave with any food in my stomach, but I left with new recipies to try!

After my rest, it was off the the Juba market. It was everything I love about African markets – lights and sounds and colors and an amazing tapestry of scents and people from many places all swirled together. I walked one way up the road, beginning to end and turned around and walked the other way.

I found a Chinese restraunt, because by now I was starving. The menu read, "finely minced meat in a finger shop" so of course I thought I should try it! I ordered it, and I waited, but I never got it! I waited ofr almost an hour and I was starving so I left. I ended up with this incredible sandwhich cooked over an open fire on a metal disc that was made out of grilled meat, chopped tomatoes and onions and I don't know what else, stuffed into the soft chappatti bread. MMM!! I wish I had another one!

Friday through Tuesday 01/06 - 01/10/12 - God's blessings come in the ringing of the bells...
Malakal...here I am!

On the Road in Malakal

 There is too much to separate out into days. They are all blending together at this point. Just suffice it to say I am safely in Malakal with another Mission Co-Worker. Life is good, and I am finding some kind of normal in all this chaos. I am finding my way around, yet another city.

Malakal is much more of a city than I like, but it is home for now. There are wide roads and lots of cars and traffic, mixed with all the people on foot and the loreys that go rumbling by to the sound of donkeys braying as they pull their loads, driven by enterprising boys who have scrounged together old axels and tires and mounted either old metal drums or flat boards to create a source of income hauling merchandise through town.
There are vehicles from an untold muber of NGO's (Non-Government Organizations) rumbling through town. Some are stationed here and some come in from the far reaches of the country to restock and for R&R's and as workers return and leave. Malakal is home to any number of organizations.

There is a good size market here, only everyone sells the same things. But I am not complaining!! They have tomatos and oranges and apples and greens! I even bought bananas today! I am trying to figure out what I can leave behind so I can take it home with me.

Getting my internet has been a real challenge, so, if you don't hear from me on a regular basis, don't worry. I am fine. Saturday we walked to the internet store, no they don't have modems.

I should explain, modems here are not at all like modems in the US. They look like a big flash drive and have a sim card in them. You plug it into your computer and off you go. IF you can find one! There is only one company that provides internet here and only one store that sells them, and NO they don't have any!

So, I thought about it some more and I went back later in the day. I sat patiently in line, waiting my turn. That is how it works here. You sit and as the person in front of you gets waited on, you scoot up a chair. So, I sat. And nobody moved. More people came in the door and more people left, but nobody moved, so I waited and I smiled back at people who smiled at me. Finally, a man walked in who spoke English and asked what I wanted. I told him I was looking for a modem and I understood they didn't have one, but I was hoping he had a suggestion for me.

He did! He has a modem!! YEAH!!! It is a wireless modem that will support up to five computers. You know what? At this point I don't care! I will take it! Well, I was going to take it until I found out it was 140 ssp (South Sudan Pounds) more than the other one! I told him I couldn't afford it. He was sorry, but the "NGO will pay". I told him I didn't work for an NGO, they won't pay. I have to pay for it myself. I admit, I pulled "the" card again, and told him I was sorry, no I couldn't do it and I was even sorrier that without a modem I couldn't tell my mother I was safe and I was sorry she was crying because she was worried. His answer was "You pray. God will give you the money". I told him God had given me money for food, but he didn't give me the money for the modem, and left.

Well, it turns out God did give me the money in the form of someone who would trade US for SSP. So Monday morning, off we trot to the internet store. CLOSED!! It is a national holiday. So, a quickhop wander through the market, a stop at the printing shop and back home again. It only took us about four hours.

So, Tuesday I head back to the Internet store, bright and early, yes, they will sell me the wireless modem. Yes, it is still 340 ssp, but I am willing to pay it today. I dont' want to, but sharing a modem is difficult for Debbie. She has her work to do and she very generously shares when she can. Mostly, I stay up long after she goes to . I bought the modem, a stop at the bank and we headed back home. I was ready! I was going to install my modem and I was going to be able to catch my grandkids, when they are up, and catch up on email and facebook, and my blog.

Alas, it wasn't to be. No matter what I tried, I could not make it work. So, after my lunch of a delicious tomato and onion sandwhich, I trucked back down the road to the internet store, certain I would be hooked up and on my way in just a few minutes. Two and one half hours later, I started home, with my 340 SSP in my pocket, no modem, and a new friend who just happens to be a Presbyterian and goes to the church down the street!

In that 2 1/2 hours I had time to read something I had saved on my desk top a while back.  It was a quote from Oswald Chambers, "Whatever we may be doing,even eating, drinking, or washing disciples, feet, we have to take the initiative of realizing and recognizing Jesus Christ in it.

It was very hard to find Jesus in my not getting a modem that works, so I was contemplating that as I walked home.  And on the way I found Jesus...


I watched about a dozen, beautiful women all dressed in native costumes with bells on ther hands or feet, I'm not sure which, and bells perfectly lined down their backs, perform this amazing, song and dance, in perfect unison as their bare feet stirred up little whirlwinds of dust and they performed their way down the street in the setting sun. I didn't have my camera, but some things I think are just special and should be pictures on your heart.  It was the blessing of God taking the frustrations of the day and replacing them with joy in the ringing of the bells.