Today we left Wadupe. Although it may be a long time before I get a chance to return, I will not soon forget the people. I already miss the kids and wish I could bring some with me.
During the last 12 weeks I have learned so much about myself and about life.
I am looking forward to sitting down with my friends and family and telling the stories of the people I have met.
I can't believe that in 16 days I will be working in the snow.
The longest summer of my life is about to abruptly end.
We are planning to travel to Uganda tomorrow morning. We will spend a week there to relax and discuss the trip together.
Thank you for following this blog during the past three months and I send you all greetings from the village of Wadupe, Sudan. God Bless you!
difficult. dark. unfair. LIFE simple. light. just.
This is this spectrum of life. My goal is to embrace my position within the spectrum and revel in life!
Saturday, December 4, 2010
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
Thanksgiving Experiment
One evening after dinner last week Bill and I discussed the Stanley Milgram Experiment http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Milgram_experiment and the Stanford Prison Experiment http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stanford_prison_experiment. I am not sure how this conversation started but I guess when you're friends with someone for twenty years the subject of unethical experiments is bound to come up sometime. Anyways, today is Thanksgiving Day. No doubt I have many things on hand here right now to be thankful for. But, being so far away from most of the people and things I'm thankful for I can't help but wonder if this morning I am on the wrong end of some unethical experiment. In 2009 when I returned home from Sudan one of the most common phrases I heard from people was, "Really makes you thankful for what you've got, doesn't it?" Boy, does it make me thankful. If you have never been away from your loved ones on the one day of the year that is designated to be with them than consider yourself lucky.
Frankly, this trip has been tough. Supposedly, it's the tough times that make us stronger. I don't feel strong today. I feel tired and weak. Don't pity me. I volunteered for this "experiment" and now I'm feeling the effects.
I know there is some knowledge to be discovered at the end of every experiment and I can't wait to see what I learn.
I don't want to be a thanksgiving buzz kill, just want to tell the ones I love that I'm with them today.
Pray for Bill and I that we will remain focused these last two weeks and continue to seek God and serve with joy.
We are planning to come back to Yei next Wednesday or Saturday before heading for Uganda. But, keep in mind, "The best laid plans of mice and men/Go often askew" (corny, but had to keep the poetry streak going) Love you all and have a great day!
Frankly, this trip has been tough. Supposedly, it's the tough times that make us stronger. I don't feel strong today. I feel tired and weak. Don't pity me. I volunteered for this "experiment" and now I'm feeling the effects.
I know there is some knowledge to be discovered at the end of every experiment and I can't wait to see what I learn.
I don't want to be a thanksgiving buzz kill, just want to tell the ones I love that I'm with them today.
Pray for Bill and I that we will remain focused these last two weeks and continue to seek God and serve with joy.
We are planning to come back to Yei next Wednesday or Saturday before heading for Uganda. But, keep in mind, "The best laid plans of mice and men/Go often askew" (corny, but had to keep the poetry streak going) Love you all and have a great day!
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
Life is Funny
Here is a message my brother sent me on my birthday: "Life is funny, ain't it? Think back a few Birthdays- I'm betting that on your 20th, you would have never believed that you'd be spending your 25 in Africa. It's amazing the paths we find ourselves on- just imagine where you might be on your 30th."
Life is funny indeed. Trying to imagine where I will be on my 30th birthday makes me laugh. One lesson I have learned so far in this life is that the future never looks like what I think it will look like. This does not mean I don't make goals or have ambitions. In fact, I always tell people that "I'm living the dream." People laugh at me when I say that. That's fine. The truth is, my life really does feel like a dream. When I was 20 of course I did not imagine spending my 25th in Africa. I had my own plans. Boy, did those plans get screwed up. I can't say that I hated reading when I was 20. It was just something I never even thought about. If I saw someone reading I just assumed they were bored or hadn't discovered technologies such as Xbox 360. Reading is now a favorite pastime of mine and I'm the librarian of a Sudanese library. I could entertain you with the original five year plan for my life, but I'd rather not. I tell my Maggie often that I couldn't be happier. And I mean it. I am excited for what lies ahead on the paths I will find myself on.
Bill and I are headed back to Wadupe today after lunch. Men are coming tomorrow to work on the school foundation again! We hope to have the foundation poured and finished by the end of next week. Nearly 70 people came to the library on Monday and over 150 books were checked out. We might take a day next week and visit a nearby gorilla reserve. I'm living the dream.
I am not exactly crazy about poetry, but lately I have been thinking about it. This past week Emily Dickinson's Because I could not stop for Death has been stuck in my head. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Because_I_could_not_stop_for_Deathhttp://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Because_I_could_not_stop_for_Death
Much love and have a blessed day!
Life is funny indeed. Trying to imagine where I will be on my 30th birthday makes me laugh. One lesson I have learned so far in this life is that the future never looks like what I think it will look like. This does not mean I don't make goals or have ambitions. In fact, I always tell people that "I'm living the dream." People laugh at me when I say that. That's fine. The truth is, my life really does feel like a dream. When I was 20 of course I did not imagine spending my 25th in Africa. I had my own plans. Boy, did those plans get screwed up. I can't say that I hated reading when I was 20. It was just something I never even thought about. If I saw someone reading I just assumed they were bored or hadn't discovered technologies such as Xbox 360. Reading is now a favorite pastime of mine and I'm the librarian of a Sudanese library. I could entertain you with the original five year plan for my life, but I'd rather not. I tell my Maggie often that I couldn't be happier. And I mean it. I am excited for what lies ahead on the paths I will find myself on.
Bill and I are headed back to Wadupe today after lunch. Men are coming tomorrow to work on the school foundation again! We hope to have the foundation poured and finished by the end of next week. Nearly 70 people came to the library on Monday and over 150 books were checked out. We might take a day next week and visit a nearby gorilla reserve. I'm living the dream.
I am not exactly crazy about poetry, but lately I have been thinking about it. This past week Emily Dickinson's Because I could not stop for Death has been stuck in my head. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Because_I_could_not_stop_for_Deathhttp://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Because_I_could_not_stop_for_Death
Much love and have a blessed day!
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
long shadows
Out in the woods I dance
From one end
to the other.
It's not easy, you know.
The woods get dark at night
Sometimes instead of dancing,
I crawl.
I hear strange sounds.
Naturally,
I close my eyes.
Afraid, but smiling
I think,
Ain't it strange in darkness
The things we see.
For me the most difficult part of living in the "bush" here in Sudan is not the myriad of deadly snakes that are slithering about. The most difficult thing is not the inescapable heat. It's not the language barrier. It's not hidden land mines or threatening rebels. For me, the hardest thing happens each night between the time I decide I'm tired and the time when I actually fall asleep.
It's called thought.
Without distractions thought is an unstoppable force. At home after dinner the television is there. The girlfriend is there. The lights are there. The car is there. I can go anywhere. I can do anything. At home, I usually do enough during the course of a day that by the time I make it to bed I am too tired to lay awake and think. But what happens at 7:30pm in a place where there is no electricity? What happens when I don't know the language well enough to join in the fireside conversation? What happens when my ipod is dead? What happens when my flashlight won't produce enough light so that the words in a book can be read? I will tell you what happens: A dreadful foe whom they call thought emerges.
With the exception of a slither of moonlight on clear nights, it's so dark inside our house in Sudan that I literally can't see my hand in front of my face. Thought seems to be nocturnal. It thrives in darkness. When the thoughts do not allow me to sleep they are usually pretty harsh. In the darkness I start to see what my life really looks like. The plank in my own eye is pretty large.Of course I don't lay awake and think of the good things that I need to keep doing in my life. Have you ever heard of anyone making a New Year's things to keep being good at list? Instead, each night I stare into the dark and add more things to my list of resolutions. I think of how many distractions I have at home and where they each rank in priority in my life. It's scary to stare at your own life. It's like a beauty queen removing the makeup and staring in a mirror for hours. I see many imperfections and blemishes in my life. But God is telling me that instead of reshuffling all of the distractions or removing a few only to add several, to focus on him. If I seek God I will not need anything to distract me. This doesn't mean that the darkness won't be as scary, but I am learning to revel in it! Matthew 6:33 But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.
P.S. My grandfather (Tom Cook) and grandmother (Nancy Cook) passed from this earth this week. Prayers for my family are needed. It's so strange to be so far away and miss their funerals. They were two great people and will certainly be missed.
Things in Wadupe are well. Very well. It's exciting. After a month of prayer, construction of the primary school will continue the end of this week or early next week! The YWAM team is holding daily seminars for the community and church leaders to teach spiritual growth and education. The Wadupe Library and Tutoring Center is growing. More and more people are coming each day! We have a little more than four weeks remaining in Sudan and already I am starting to miss this place. Please continue praying for the upcoming vote and for the nation.
Thanks for reading and have a blessed day!
From one end
to the other.
It's not easy, you know.
The woods get dark at night
Sometimes instead of dancing,
I crawl.
I hear strange sounds.
Naturally,
I close my eyes.
Afraid, but smiling
I think,
Ain't it strange in darkness
The things we see.
For me the most difficult part of living in the "bush" here in Sudan is not the myriad of deadly snakes that are slithering about. The most difficult thing is not the inescapable heat. It's not the language barrier. It's not hidden land mines or threatening rebels. For me, the hardest thing happens each night between the time I decide I'm tired and the time when I actually fall asleep.
It's called thought.
Without distractions thought is an unstoppable force. At home after dinner the television is there. The girlfriend is there. The lights are there. The car is there. I can go anywhere. I can do anything. At home, I usually do enough during the course of a day that by the time I make it to bed I am too tired to lay awake and think. But what happens at 7:30pm in a place where there is no electricity? What happens when I don't know the language well enough to join in the fireside conversation? What happens when my ipod is dead? What happens when my flashlight won't produce enough light so that the words in a book can be read? I will tell you what happens: A dreadful foe whom they call thought emerges.
With the exception of a slither of moonlight on clear nights, it's so dark inside our house in Sudan that I literally can't see my hand in front of my face. Thought seems to be nocturnal. It thrives in darkness. When the thoughts do not allow me to sleep they are usually pretty harsh. In the darkness I start to see what my life really looks like. The plank in my own eye is pretty large.Of course I don't lay awake and think of the good things that I need to keep doing in my life. Have you ever heard of anyone making a New Year's things to keep being good at list? Instead, each night I stare into the dark and add more things to my list of resolutions. I think of how many distractions I have at home and where they each rank in priority in my life. It's scary to stare at your own life. It's like a beauty queen removing the makeup and staring in a mirror for hours. I see many imperfections and blemishes in my life. But God is telling me that instead of reshuffling all of the distractions or removing a few only to add several, to focus on him. If I seek God I will not need anything to distract me. This doesn't mean that the darkness won't be as scary, but I am learning to revel in it! Matthew 6:33 But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.
P.S. My grandfather (Tom Cook) and grandmother (Nancy Cook) passed from this earth this week. Prayers for my family are needed. It's so strange to be so far away and miss their funerals. They were two great people and will certainly be missed.
Things in Wadupe are well. Very well. It's exciting. After a month of prayer, construction of the primary school will continue the end of this week or early next week! The YWAM team is holding daily seminars for the community and church leaders to teach spiritual growth and education. The Wadupe Library and Tutoring Center is growing. More and more people are coming each day! We have a little more than four weeks remaining in Sudan and already I am starting to miss this place. Please continue praying for the upcoming vote and for the nation.
Thanks for reading and have a blessed day!
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
25
I am blessed.
YWAM (youth with a mission) arrived to help on Friday.
The spirit is moving in Wadupe.
Thank you all for your prayers
I miss many of you at home (especially MCH).
But I will see you all soon.
Life is good,
So good.
Thank you God for another year.
P.S. If someone could make it possible for me to see the Celtics/Heat season opener, it would be a pretty fantastic birthday present.
That's all.
YWAM (youth with a mission) arrived to help on Friday.
The spirit is moving in Wadupe.
Thank you all for your prayers
I miss many of you at home (especially MCH).
But I will see you all soon.
Life is good,
So good.
Thank you God for another year.
P.S. If someone could make it possible for me to see the Celtics/Heat season opener, it would be a pretty fantastic birthday present.
That's all.
Monday, October 18, 2010
I have put the armor on...
After my last post I received a few emails asking the question, "If you aren't eating burgers, what are you eating?" Here are some potential daily meals for me:
Breakfast: Boiled Eggs, Cassava, Bananas, Bread, Rice
Lunch: Rice, Beans, Avocado, Cabbage, Tomatoes, Oranges (sour)
Dinner: Rice, Beans, Greens, Fried Potato Chips, Pumpkin, Onions, Corn, Sweet Potato
To drink: Imported Tea from Uganda or Kenya, Local tea leaves, Passion fruit juice, Local coffee(my brother Mitchell will tell you how good Sudanese Coffee is)
*Pineapple and Mango are not in season (unfortunately)
**To be clear, I do not eat this healthy at home
For those of you who are not interested in my diet, chew on this: Ephesians 6:10-20 These are words in the Bible. I have read and heard them since my childhood days of sitting in Victory Baptist Church in Cooleemee, NC. Growing up I thought the words in this passage like, "...for our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in heavenly realms..." were about some kind of make believe, science fiction, or corrupt government officials that must have died around the same time as the book's author, Paul. On Friday and Saturday I again studied the short book of Ephesians. For the first time in my life the words I read resonated inside of me. I thought well, I must be getting wiser and have simply gained a better understanding of the Bible. This morning as I type these words, there is no doubt why I understood those words so well when I read them Saturday. Last night some events occurred (which I dare not recall in this post for personal reasons) that clearly showed Bill and I the spiritual forces of evil and powers of dark that are in Wadupe. I am thankful to have read these words and know that I can prepare myself to go to war. If you are reading this and these words seem silly, like something from a Stephen King novel as opposed to something existing in reality, I can only say that I wish I felt the same. If you do not read the passage mentioned, just know that it ends with, "Pray also for me, that whenever I open my mouth, words may be given me so that I will fearlessly make known the mystery of the gospel...Pray that I may declare it fearlessly, as I should." I ask for your continued prayer and support and as always, thanks for reading.
P.S. Also currently reading, Johnny Cash The Autobiography. Strongly recommend that one.
Breakfast: Boiled Eggs, Cassava, Bananas, Bread, Rice
Lunch: Rice, Beans, Avocado, Cabbage, Tomatoes, Oranges (sour)
Dinner: Rice, Beans, Greens, Fried Potato Chips, Pumpkin, Onions, Corn, Sweet Potato
To drink: Imported Tea from Uganda or Kenya, Local tea leaves, Passion fruit juice, Local coffee(my brother Mitchell will tell you how good Sudanese Coffee is)
*Pineapple and Mango are not in season (unfortunately)
**To be clear, I do not eat this healthy at home
For those of you who are not interested in my diet, chew on this: Ephesians 6:10-20 These are words in the Bible. I have read and heard them since my childhood days of sitting in Victory Baptist Church in Cooleemee, NC. Growing up I thought the words in this passage like, "...for our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in heavenly realms..." were about some kind of make believe, science fiction, or corrupt government officials that must have died around the same time as the book's author, Paul. On Friday and Saturday I again studied the short book of Ephesians. For the first time in my life the words I read resonated inside of me. I thought well, I must be getting wiser and have simply gained a better understanding of the Bible. This morning as I type these words, there is no doubt why I understood those words so well when I read them Saturday. Last night some events occurred (which I dare not recall in this post for personal reasons) that clearly showed Bill and I the spiritual forces of evil and powers of dark that are in Wadupe. I am thankful to have read these words and know that I can prepare myself to go to war. If you are reading this and these words seem silly, like something from a Stephen King novel as opposed to something existing in reality, I can only say that I wish I felt the same. If you do not read the passage mentioned, just know that it ends with, "Pray also for me, that whenever I open my mouth, words may be given me so that I will fearlessly make known the mystery of the gospel...Pray that I may declare it fearlessly, as I should." I ask for your continued prayer and support and as always, thanks for reading.
P.S. Also currently reading, Johnny Cash The Autobiography. Strongly recommend that one.
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
Ode To A Cheeseburger
I never thought I'd miss you so
You have left me feeling empty
I search every menu in every restaurant for you
You mock me, appearing in print as "beef"
I order and it takes several minutes to chew a single bite
You are alien to this place
I am surrounded by countless goats, and their kids
You float above disguised as a cloud
I know that I was in love
You are an addiction; your flavor unmatched
I desperately grasp for the fleeting memory of your grilled scent
You exist now only in dream form
I see golden arches ahead! At last!
Adieu, adieu.thy taste fades...
Was it a mirage or a dream?
Fled is that juicy beef: Do I wake or sleep?
Hello all! Everything here in Sudan is great with me (I will get over my burger cravings). We are scheduled to meet with guys from YWAM tomorrow morning to discuss the needs and issues in Wadupe. We are starting to address the lack of spirit and faith in the community and it has been another reminder of how hungry these people are for something other than bread. We have basically discovered that although they live on what is claimed to be some of the most fertile soil on the largest country in Africa, many people are just too lazy to farm. They either do not see the point, have the money to start or they are still suffering from savaged land due to the last civil war (war that is claimed to have cost more civilian lives than any war since WWII). Yesterday I searched eight websites that ranked the worst overall countries in the world. Sudan fell out of the top three merely once. This place is dark, desperate and approaching what could be the most pivotal month in their war torn history. Most of the locals we have asked about the current situation point in the same direction. Loss of faith. Continue to pray for these people, the nation, and wisdom for the government. Thank you all who have taken the time to read this and I send sincere apologies to John Keats.
You have left me feeling empty
I search every menu in every restaurant for you
You mock me, appearing in print as "beef"
I order and it takes several minutes to chew a single bite
You are alien to this place
I am surrounded by countless goats, and their kids
You float above disguised as a cloud
I know that I was in love
You are an addiction; your flavor unmatched
I desperately grasp for the fleeting memory of your grilled scent
You exist now only in dream form
I see golden arches ahead! At last!
Adieu, adieu.thy taste fades...
Was it a mirage or a dream?
Fled is that juicy beef: Do I wake or sleep?
Hello all! Everything here in Sudan is great with me (I will get over my burger cravings). We are scheduled to meet with guys from YWAM tomorrow morning to discuss the needs and issues in Wadupe. We are starting to address the lack of spirit and faith in the community and it has been another reminder of how hungry these people are for something other than bread. We have basically discovered that although they live on what is claimed to be some of the most fertile soil on the largest country in Africa, many people are just too lazy to farm. They either do not see the point, have the money to start or they are still suffering from savaged land due to the last civil war (war that is claimed to have cost more civilian lives than any war since WWII). Yesterday I searched eight websites that ranked the worst overall countries in the world. Sudan fell out of the top three merely once. This place is dark, desperate and approaching what could be the most pivotal month in their war torn history. Most of the locals we have asked about the current situation point in the same direction. Loss of faith. Continue to pray for these people, the nation, and wisdom for the government. Thank you all who have taken the time to read this and I send sincere apologies to John Keats.
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
13 Adults, 2 Babies and a Goat
I have been learning about different cultures of the world for the last few years. The majority of my education has come from textbooks, Wikipedia or National Geographic. During each of these educational opportunities I sat safely and comfortably in my own home, sipping black coffee and far from the world. To avoid culture shock I always thought it was best to learn from a safe distance, or if given the chance slowly acclimate myself into a culture.But why wade into the water when the diving board looks so inviting? Why the woods?
Yesterday around noon I hoped in the back of a small white pickup truck which was not much different than the 1981 Nissan that my dad and I used to load up with a dozen bags of trash and take to the landfill. I got settled on the side of the bed, held my bag tightly between my legs and looked up to see 13 adults, 2 babies and a goat all staring at me. A man next to me slapped the side of the truck, signaling to the driver to take off. I glanced down into the cab which contained 4 people (including the driver), and I noticed due to the lack of space he was actually holding his door shut with his free hand. I smiled to myself and looked up at the blue sky that was complimented by cumulus clouds stretching as far as my eyes could reach. I fumbled to tie my bandanna behind my head, covering my mouth in an attempt to not eat too much dust during the 15 mile trip.
During the two hour journey (to go 15 miles) I began to think about the things I have learned by being submerged in the Kakwa culture. Very seldom is a person seen alone. Goats, lizards and other creatures I'd rather not think about wander in and out homes. Medicines and food are all from the ground or nearby trees. Every one's occupation is a farmer. There are a few who can say that they are also teach school or a build, but it stops there. Sixty two degrees in the morning calls for winter coats and shivering locals. From scalding water to heaping baskets of produce, women carry all things on their heads. They miss the elephants and the antelope that used to litter the grassy fields of Wadupe before the shooting began. They do not think twice about over loading a vehicle to cheaply get to their destination. They are as quick to say hello to passing strangers as we are in the American south. They wear watches, but they do not keep time. The men are always joking that we are so concerned with what time of day it is, but they are not because they are, "on local time." Local time means you show up when you want or in some cases, not at all. Promptness, appointments and deadlines do not exist.
Patience has been a chronic battle of mine since I knew there was a such thing as time. In the period of a week the community cleared off the land for the first school building. They dug the footers and laid the iron. Anyone who is familiar with building or grading would know that with proper equipment it would take about three hours to do what we have done in a week. These men are working very hard, in very extreme conditions. We are very thankful to be where we are at this point in the project. But fewer men come each day to help. Bill and I are leaving in December. We would like to have the building ready for use when we leave, but part of the community seems to have lost their drive. For those who come to work each day they do not have to look far for inspiration. The current school is located next to the building site and the children stare out underneath the decaying roof watching the work being done.
It is easy for me to get caught up with deadlines and time, because that is my culture. Yesterday Bill reminded me that the project is the people, not the building. I am praying for patience and continued understanding of their culture. It is easy to learn things, but to live those things can sometimes be difficult.
But, why the woods? The people.
Yesterday around noon I hoped in the back of a small white pickup truck which was not much different than the 1981 Nissan that my dad and I used to load up with a dozen bags of trash and take to the landfill. I got settled on the side of the bed, held my bag tightly between my legs and looked up to see 13 adults, 2 babies and a goat all staring at me. A man next to me slapped the side of the truck, signaling to the driver to take off. I glanced down into the cab which contained 4 people (including the driver), and I noticed due to the lack of space he was actually holding his door shut with his free hand. I smiled to myself and looked up at the blue sky that was complimented by cumulus clouds stretching as far as my eyes could reach. I fumbled to tie my bandanna behind my head, covering my mouth in an attempt to not eat too much dust during the 15 mile trip.
During the two hour journey (to go 15 miles) I began to think about the things I have learned by being submerged in the Kakwa culture. Very seldom is a person seen alone. Goats, lizards and other creatures I'd rather not think about wander in and out homes. Medicines and food are all from the ground or nearby trees. Every one's occupation is a farmer. There are a few who can say that they are also teach school or a build, but it stops there. Sixty two degrees in the morning calls for winter coats and shivering locals. From scalding water to heaping baskets of produce, women carry all things on their heads. They miss the elephants and the antelope that used to litter the grassy fields of Wadupe before the shooting began. They do not think twice about over loading a vehicle to cheaply get to their destination. They are as quick to say hello to passing strangers as we are in the American south. They wear watches, but they do not keep time. The men are always joking that we are so concerned with what time of day it is, but they are not because they are, "on local time." Local time means you show up when you want or in some cases, not at all. Promptness, appointments and deadlines do not exist.
Patience has been a chronic battle of mine since I knew there was a such thing as time. In the period of a week the community cleared off the land for the first school building. They dug the footers and laid the iron. Anyone who is familiar with building or grading would know that with proper equipment it would take about three hours to do what we have done in a week. These men are working very hard, in very extreme conditions. We are very thankful to be where we are at this point in the project. But fewer men come each day to help. Bill and I are leaving in December. We would like to have the building ready for use when we leave, but part of the community seems to have lost their drive. For those who come to work each day they do not have to look far for inspiration. The current school is located next to the building site and the children stare out underneath the decaying roof watching the work being done.
It is easy for me to get caught up with deadlines and time, because that is my culture. Yesterday Bill reminded me that the project is the people, not the building. I am praying for patience and continued understanding of their culture. It is easy to learn things, but to live those things can sometimes be difficult.
But, why the woods? The people.
Monday, September 20, 2010
Greetings from Sudan!
Hey! I am currently in Yei using the internet at the Danish Refugee Council. I am returning to the Village Wadupe this afternoon. There will be a meeting with the village, a feast and celebration! Groundbreaking for the school will begin tomorrow! I miss you all back in the states, see you soon enough, and thanks for reading!
I stepped off the plane in Uganda and walked through the airport, realizing my thoughts were much different than last year, when I cautiously crept through the same building not knowing what lied beyond the dim lights of the exit. This time I was experienced. I knew we would catch a taxi and enter complete darkness, save the headlights that stretched out in front of us. I knew we would pass many villages and the shore of Lake Victoria on our way to Kampala. I knew we would zoom past slower vehicles, nearly hitting oncoming traffic, the driver beeping them out of our way. I knew the night would end with us at a hotel that would not have an indoor pool, HBO or toilet seats. I felt relaxed as I slept and I knew the next two days would be spent traveling by bus up into Southern Sudan. I knew the ride would be hot, bumpy, dusty and exhausting. I knew the officials at the border and at least one checkpoint would give us a hard time because we were white. I knew the roads in Sudan would change from bumpy pavement to mud and potholes for the rest of the journey to Wadupe. I knew the people of Wadupe would greet us with smiling faces and be nothing but hospitable. There were no surprises and my expectations were met.
After resting and greeting the people for a few hours I inflated the soccer ball that I brought for the kids. We played for over an hour. I eventually stopped to catch my breath and get some water. I drank a huge bottle of water and after finishing it I used the cap to balance the wobbly table and carelessly tossed the bottle to the side. A little girl named Sunday quickly came over and took the cap from underneath the table leg and grabbed the bottle as well. I smiled at her and told her she could have the bottle. After resting a bit longer and explaining to everyone were "Big Thomas" was, I decided to walk to the well and wash myself off before dinner. Luckily a few kids were playing at the well, so they could pump the water while I rinsed off. A small girl named Mary pumped the water for me while I washed my arms off. I stuck my legs under the flow of the water and all of the dirt washed down into my shoes. I was too tired to take my shoes off and clean my feet so I thanked Mary and headed back towards the compound. As I turned to leave, Sunday called my name. I spun around and she was holding the water bottle which I had intended to throw away. She extended towards me, full of water as a sort of offering. I smiled and said, "No thank you, you can keep it." She looked towards the sky over her left shoulder searching for words, after not finding any, she followed behind me. She pulled on my shirt tail and kept repeating my name as we walked. I made it back to the compound stopping just before the garden. Monday still called my name. I turned around to ask her what she wanted. As I began to speak she dropped to her knees and with one hand around my ankle, she used the other to loosen my shoe. As I began to realize what was happening, a myraid of thoughts raced through my mind. Monday poured the cool water slowly down the back of my ankle and scrubbed my bare left foot clean with her hands. As she moved to my other foot, she looked up at me and smiled. I tried to say thank you but my words were choked, inaudible. She placed my feet back in my shoes, grabbed the empty bottle, got to her feet and ran off. Immediately, I recounted what had occured to Billy and Stan. I stared at the grass ceiling of our house that first night in Wadupe and realized that a twelve-year-old girl had taught me love and humility. At God's feet now lie my expectations.
I stepped off the plane in Uganda and walked through the airport, realizing my thoughts were much different than last year, when I cautiously crept through the same building not knowing what lied beyond the dim lights of the exit. This time I was experienced. I knew we would catch a taxi and enter complete darkness, save the headlights that stretched out in front of us. I knew we would pass many villages and the shore of Lake Victoria on our way to Kampala. I knew we would zoom past slower vehicles, nearly hitting oncoming traffic, the driver beeping them out of our way. I knew the night would end with us at a hotel that would not have an indoor pool, HBO or toilet seats. I felt relaxed as I slept and I knew the next two days would be spent traveling by bus up into Southern Sudan. I knew the ride would be hot, bumpy, dusty and exhausting. I knew the officials at the border and at least one checkpoint would give us a hard time because we were white. I knew the roads in Sudan would change from bumpy pavement to mud and potholes for the rest of the journey to Wadupe. I knew the people of Wadupe would greet us with smiling faces and be nothing but hospitable. There were no surprises and my expectations were met.
After resting and greeting the people for a few hours I inflated the soccer ball that I brought for the kids. We played for over an hour. I eventually stopped to catch my breath and get some water. I drank a huge bottle of water and after finishing it I used the cap to balance the wobbly table and carelessly tossed the bottle to the side. A little girl named Sunday quickly came over and took the cap from underneath the table leg and grabbed the bottle as well. I smiled at her and told her she could have the bottle. After resting a bit longer and explaining to everyone were "Big Thomas" was, I decided to walk to the well and wash myself off before dinner. Luckily a few kids were playing at the well, so they could pump the water while I rinsed off. A small girl named Mary pumped the water for me while I washed my arms off. I stuck my legs under the flow of the water and all of the dirt washed down into my shoes. I was too tired to take my shoes off and clean my feet so I thanked Mary and headed back towards the compound. As I turned to leave, Sunday called my name. I spun around and she was holding the water bottle which I had intended to throw away. She extended towards me, full of water as a sort of offering. I smiled and said, "No thank you, you can keep it." She looked towards the sky over her left shoulder searching for words, after not finding any, she followed behind me. She pulled on my shirt tail and kept repeating my name as we walked. I made it back to the compound stopping just before the garden. Monday still called my name. I turned around to ask her what she wanted. As I began to speak she dropped to her knees and with one hand around my ankle, she used the other to loosen my shoe. As I began to realize what was happening, a myraid of thoughts raced through my mind. Monday poured the cool water slowly down the back of my ankle and scrubbed my bare left foot clean with her hands. As she moved to my other foot, she looked up at me and smiled. I tried to say thank you but my words were choked, inaudible. She placed my feet back in my shoes, grabbed the empty bottle, got to her feet and ran off. Immediately, I recounted what had occured to Billy and Stan. I stared at the grass ceiling of our house that first night in Wadupe and realized that a twelve-year-old girl had taught me love and humility. At God's feet now lie my expectations.
Sunday with her brother Condition |
Friday, September 10, 2010
Season of love
The air is getting cooler in Boone, autumn is in the air. I can sleep at night now because it's not too hot. Leaves are slowly starting to litter the ground. Best time of the year to play golf. Football season just kicked off. My sister and nephew's birthdays are coming up. My brother's birthday. My birthday. Horror movie marathons. Pumpkin Pie. Thanksgiving.
Three days from now, my summer will be extended by three months. I will be joining my friend Billy and his dad on a trip to Southern Sudan. I will leave Charlotte on Monday and arrive in Entebbe, Uganda sometime late Tuesday. From there, we will fly into Sudan and eventually stop in the village Wadupe. We are going to this place in the name of love, the name of God. Our hope is that while we are there the village will be able to construct classrooms for their children (they currently have a couple structures that have nearly collapsed and the younger children meet under mango trees). My personal role in the village will be to build relationships with the people, assist Billy, teach them freedom through art, and allow God to do his thing. I visited Wadupe last year with no expectations and could write a book about my two month stay with stories that were incredible blessings from God.
In late October South Sudan's rainy season turns to a dry season. High temps around 96. There is no pie and they do not watch college gameday.
Last summer in Wadupe I experienced love like I never have before. This season I will miss all of the things that come with fall in Boone. I am missing one season of my life in the states to experience a season of love with the people of Wadupe. And that is worth it.
Three days from now, my summer will be extended by three months. I will be joining my friend Billy and his dad on a trip to Southern Sudan. I will leave Charlotte on Monday and arrive in Entebbe, Uganda sometime late Tuesday. From there, we will fly into Sudan and eventually stop in the village Wadupe. We are going to this place in the name of love, the name of God. Our hope is that while we are there the village will be able to construct classrooms for their children (they currently have a couple structures that have nearly collapsed and the younger children meet under mango trees). My personal role in the village will be to build relationships with the people, assist Billy, teach them freedom through art, and allow God to do his thing. I visited Wadupe last year with no expectations and could write a book about my two month stay with stories that were incredible blessings from God.
In late October South Sudan's rainy season turns to a dry season. High temps around 96. There is no pie and they do not watch college gameday.
Last summer in Wadupe I experienced love like I never have before. This season I will miss all of the things that come with fall in Boone. I am missing one season of my life in the states to experience a season of love with the people of Wadupe. And that is worth it.
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