The temperatures were a little cooler this morning. Rosemary has not been feeling well, but she’s doing better. Devotions were excellent again in Arabic and English. I’m slowly fumbling through the language.

I left Rosemary to rest while I attended meetings at the Episcopal Church. With the fans blowing and the hint of rain in the air, it was pleasant. Incredible singing and devotions before the meeting began. I listened to different viewpoints of what I’ve been hearing: grass roots help and money needed to help on that level. The hearts of the Sudanese people are struggling to build this country. I’m pleased to see some of the same organizations who are serious about aid attend this meeting. But I’m impatient. I want the meetings to stop and work begin.
 
Outside the Episcopal compound, SPLA soldiers are on the alert for something. Beside the church several tents serve as accommodations for NGO people. Several women attempt to pump water from a well on the far side of the compound. It doesn’t look like they are successful. It begins to rain, cooling the air around me. I return inside the church reflecting on the day’s meetings and happenings outside and realize just how far away from home I really am. I hear a plane and see the one from Nairobi coming into Juba.
 
Several little boys ran to the gate of the compound and screamed in Arabic. They used their fingers to make circles around their eyes–like eye glasses. Rosemary and I learn from Elizabeth that they were being chased by a monkey that threw sticks and stones. We laughed for a long time.  I can’t believe I have not talked much about Elizabeth before. She is the glue that keeps us all together–love and laughter. 
 
The rain stopped, and it grew a little cooler. Rosemary, Thomas, and I talked for a long time about the needs of the country, Across’s work–and the danger. Charles and Anthony joined in on the discussion in the late afternoon, speaking about the problem with HIV. 30% in some areas and 10% in others. It is frustrating to learn that UNICEF provides kits for the people to test for HIV, but there are no drugs or counseling available. Charles says the life expectancy of a Sudanese is two minutes. After that, is borrowed time. It becomes obvious that humor and laughter is what gets them through the seriousness of things.

I didn’t know that Rosemary had been in Bahr Al Ghazal during a bombing raid before the peace treaty was signed. She shared how she had to choose between being shot down by the government soldiers or a bunker that was full of snakes. She chose the snakes.
 
I haven’t said much about Shadaraka. He is never idle: grounds keeper, security, whatever Elizabeth or one of the men need. He is always laughing and teases Rosemary constantly. He received his papers today for his Sudanese citizenship. He is all smiles. During the war, he fled to Uganda where his wife and two children still live. He wants to bring them to Juba with him. 
 
Many of the Southern tribes fight among each other. This is another job for many organizations: reconciliation. So much education is needed. We laugh too. We’ve been out of water for a few days. The men decide to load up barrels and head to the Nile for water. At least it could be boiled to wash our faces and hands. They asked me if I wanted to go. I agreed, but the joke was on me! No one told me that where we were going was filled with men and boys swimming and bathing..

After the sun went down, Joseph Ayok, the Director of Religious Affairs, came by the compound again. I listened to how he misses his family, so far away in England. But he is committed to his position here. Mr. Ayok tells of Dinka folk lore. The fox believes the lion is his uncle, but the fox has to be leery of getting eaten. After Joseph left, I went to bed. But I was wakened by the sound of singing. The others had stayed up very late and were singing. I started to join them, but instead began to sing in my bed. What a glorious worship time. Shadaraka gave his testimony. I envy this profound faith.

Photos from Juba, Southern Sudan can be found here.