Cows in the Sky

One of the things I love best about living in Sudan is the feeling I have after having a shower at the end of the day. Cleanliness. Refreshment. Satisfaction!

It’s so good. Not because the shower itself is so good, so high-pressured, so hot & steamy, such clean, fresh water – because it is none of those things, and often little more than a few brown-tinted dipper-fulls in a bucket (more accurately called a “splash” than a shower). But rather because of the transformation: because of how I felt before the splash – how much dust I had in each elbow crease, behind my ears and scratching at the root of each hair on my head; because of how sweaty I got during the day; because of how many filthy, ratty boxes I lifted, or cruddy hands of curious children I shook. Being cleansed after being so filthy feels fantastic.

It’s like grace.

Some beautiful faces to go with those grubby handshakes.

I just returned from a week in the field on Saturday, and treated myself to a nice long post-field shower – with water that fell on its own from the faucet! Amazing. But all the field dust and crud is all worth it. All the richer the adventure, I say.

I was in the field to join our Education Team on a trip to investigate potential for future programming options. If all goes well, I’ll be joining the Education department in a new position as of April this year.

Having now made a few field trips, I’ve concluded that they generally feature three things: discomfort, adventure & serenity.

Discomfort. On this particular trip, discomfort included things like the fear of falling into a pit latrine at our camp, the concrete base of which was cracked and caving in, and the contents of which were disconcertingly near the top. I was counting down the number of visits remaining to the loo by the end of my trip. Now that would be a story to beat all stories – one which I’m quite happy to be unable to tell you now. (It’s these small everyday blessings one must be thankful for!)

Another discomfort this trip was a feeling my body has so quickly forgotten since returning to sweltering Juba – cold. It was remarkably cold at night in the site I visited. In the day, on the contrary, my thermometer surpassed its mercury limit in the sunshine, and reached a whopping 47C in the tent I slept in. But at night, a miraculous change took place and the temperature dropped 20-some degrees to a mere 18C. This is fine and lovely if you have a blanket, or a nice pair of cozy p.j.’s, but if you’re used to sweating through the night in Juba and you have nothing but a bed sheet…brrr… I shivered through the night and couldn’t wait for the roosters crow to signal the time to get up for my hot cup of tea. My suffering drove me to visit Abiemnom’s meagre marketplace in search of a blanket. I found 2 options: a big fluffy blanket for an exorbitant price, or a more affordable velvety alternative with tassles. I decided to go cheap, and chose the most palatable of patterns in the velvety spread department. The result: survival through the 5 am point of frigidity. Unfortunately, there was a slight side effect of, shall we say “colourful” dreams, thanks to the happy plaid, blue and pink flowered shroud around me. It really was quite hideous. I dreamt I awoke on the morning of my wedding day and realized that I had planned my entire wedding and sent invitations to everyone, but failed to inform my future husband, who I didn’t really even know. Hm…analyze that one. I blame it on the fuzzy blue flowers.

Adventure. That exhilarating mix of hardship and pleasure that makes life so rich. No major adventures to report from this trip, but a couple of out of the ordinary happenings to report.

Having landed safely at one of our sites with our charter flight, we were supposed to travel an hour and a half by road to our final destination. And therein likes the adventure of trying to get our vehicle moving. We had battery problems which we were assured would be fine once the vehicle got going once. So we got all the muscles we could gather together, and tried to push start…and failed…and tried again…and again…and again….Full points for effort I must say. The story goes on and on through various trials & tribulations, but suffice it to say that I would not be exaggerating if I said I pushed this 4-tonne vehicle 15 times. To no avail. Great exercise. Lots of fun. Especially in the heat of the day. We did, in the end, make it to our destination triumphantly with the help of good neighbours.

If you replay this movie again and again about 15 times,
that would give you an accurate idea of how I spent my
morning last Wednesday.

Another little adventure was on our last day in the field when I had the honour of being chosen to be married and remain forever in Abiemnom. At the end of a teacher training graduation, our organization was presented with a special gift from a woman in the community.

Gorgeous gift of locally-available seeds & nuts.

With it, came a piece of beaded jewelry for each of the 3 foreign ladies representing the organization. The other 2 received necklaces and I got a bracelet. They then informed me that to receive a bracelet means one is chosen as a bride, and that I must stay in Abiemnom and marry a Sudanese. I’ve decided to give the offer some thought from the safety of far-away Juba. Given my recent dream, I don’t want to jump into anything I’m uncertain about. ;)

Group photo with some of the teachers trained. I'm at the bottom right.

Of all the random things....Kung Fu in Abiemnom. Out of nowhere
during the graduation ceremony, after long speeches by various
important people, one of the teachers and his student come out with
a Kung Fu performance. Fabulous!

If I did decide to marry & stay in Abiemnom forever, I would
want my house to be as happy as this one. If you can't read it,
it says "Wel come to home" over the door.

And after several years of child bearing, as a good Sudanese
wife, my family might look something like this.

And, finaly, the best part of a field trip: serenity.

Sunset by the borehole.

A retreat from electricity, internet, traffic, construction, noise & office stress. Wonderful. At breakfast each morning, we watched the flocks of hundreds of tiny birds near our camp swooping, soaring, descending on one bush in a flutter, then suddenly moving on with gusto – dancing to the rhythm of some song we cannot hear. During the day, I savoured the tenderest goat I’ve ever eaten, nursed cups of tea with milk, got lost in the book I’m reading, made a fantastic new bug discovery, found a puppy to play with and enjoyed walks through the community (oh yes…and did a bit of work too). I ate supper under the brilliant moon & stars untainted by city lights, and learned that in Nuer culture, the stars are believed to be cows. When the stars are thick and bright, the fox is watching over them. When they’re faint and scattered, the hyena is on watch. He does a poor job and scares them away when he eats some. And guess where your cows go when they die? The happy pasture in the sky. How nice. I started off to bed at about 8:30 every night for lack of anything else to do, and slept long and deeply, feeling so blessed to see, feel, hear & experience all that I do.

My latest insect discovery. This is an ant lion. They build little pits
in the sand to trap unsuspecting ants as they walk past. Then they grab
them with the little pinchers on their heads and pull them under.
Very exciting to watch.

Sweet little puppy with old man whiskers at one of our camps.

Happy neighbour children.

Boys fishing in the roadside ditches.

And now…back to my uncomfortable chair behind my laptop. To the task of somehow, through some mysterious act of grace I know not of – trying to bring something more of the blessing I know and appreciate in life to the lives of others. That’s the idea anyhow. How? If? When? And what good my personal struggles with spreadsheets might possibly do… That I do not know. And hence the need for grace.

In the words of Archbishop Oscar Romero’s poem:

We cannot do everything
and there is a sense of liberation in realizing that.
This enables us to do something,
And do it very well.
It may be incomplete, but it is a beginning, a step along the way,
an opportunity for God’s grace to enter and do the rest.