Over the past couple of weeks, as rainy season has well and truly set in, I have decided that I miss the hot season, when temperatures daily topped 40C and rarely dropped below 30C. Last night the temperature dropped to a lowly 21C. Not sure how I'm going to cope with a return to Scotland.
There are many reasons why I miss the hot season, but two stand head and shoulders above the rest. Firstly, because of the complete lack of paved surfaces, and the routine heavyness of monsoon downpours, when it rains the whole place turns to mud, making moving around by almost any kind of vehicle completely impossible. Today in an ill-judged, hurried trip to the market I came the closest I have come yet (and I can tell you, it's up against some pretty stiff competition) to falling off my motorbike due to the mud.
Secondly, the lack of sunshine means that there is a lack of hot water for showers. Now much as I dislike not being clean, I dislike being cold even more and the number of days in between showers, at times, verges on the outrageous. It's beginning to make the women on our compound (of which there are many) ask questions about my personal hygiene.
Today, things took an immeasurable turn for the better with the arrival back in Sudan of my much loved Kenyan sidekicks, John & Peter. In their absence it was left to me to manage our Sudanese labourers on the building site, a feat which I managed with varying degrees of success. It was an invaluable, enjoyable, frustrating and baffling experience, at the peak of which I employed 14 guys at one time to help me finish building a new fence for our compound. In the pouring rain (this is the point where I would have had a great photo to share with you, had I not been to lazy, cold and wet to go back to my house to get my camera). It was the first time I had been properly freezing cold since I left Scotland.
Another real blessing over the past week or so, has been having the chance to hear in more detail some of my good friends life stories, and they never cease to throw up surprises. At the weekend, one of my closest friends here was telling me how the war came to Mabaan County (where I am) in 1996 (when he was 10)whilst he had gone to visit his grandmother in another village. Everyone literally took to the hills and he was seperated from his parents for 12 years (most of which was spent in a refugee camp in Ethiopia). I've no idea what kind of effect that kind of thing, and all that he has seen, would have on somebody growing up, and this kind of story is very typical.
The good news (and sometimes here you really need a bit of good news) is that during his journey to Ethiopia he heard the Word of God from some old guy in a random village and he saw the wisdom in it. I'm grateful for stories like this, although I'm at a bit of a loss as to how best to encourage him (and others) to keep on following Jesus.
Just as well it isn't all down to me...
Sunday 25 July 2010
Monday 12 July 2010
Departures...
This is my favourite picture of the team from Scotland, accompanied by Peter & Timo, and overlooked by John Maruti:
Sadly, they left on Friday and I am all on my lonesome again. On a happier note, my Malaria (or whatever it was) also departed on Friday and I am once again fighting fit. To celebrate I taught myself to weld.
All I can say is that it was more successful than I expected it to be. Although I did learn why you sould wear protective clothing while welding. As opposed to shorts and sandals. getting sparks of white hot metal in between your toes is even less fun than it sounds.
On Saturday night something happened that has never happened before. I got woken in the middle of the night to go and help out at the clinic. Rest assured, they did not bring me for my medical opinions, rather there had been a complete power failure at the clinic and they needed a back up supply to provide oxygen for a small boy.
This is the small boy, his name is Keywa and he's 4 years old, he was dying of cancer and they were trying to keep him alive long enough to fly him to Juba where he could receive some treatment:
He died on Sunday morning, which was pretty devestating for everyone involved. Poor wee guy never had a chance...stuck out in the middle of nowhere in the Sudanese bush.
It's a wonderful world...
Sadly, they left on Friday and I am all on my lonesome again. On a happier note, my Malaria (or whatever it was) also departed on Friday and I am once again fighting fit. To celebrate I taught myself to weld.
All I can say is that it was more successful than I expected it to be. Although I did learn why you sould wear protective clothing while welding. As opposed to shorts and sandals. getting sparks of white hot metal in between your toes is even less fun than it sounds.
On Saturday night something happened that has never happened before. I got woken in the middle of the night to go and help out at the clinic. Rest assured, they did not bring me for my medical opinions, rather there had been a complete power failure at the clinic and they needed a back up supply to provide oxygen for a small boy.
This is the small boy, his name is Keywa and he's 4 years old, he was dying of cancer and they were trying to keep him alive long enough to fly him to Juba where he could receive some treatment:
He died on Sunday morning, which was pretty devestating for everyone involved. Poor wee guy never had a chance...stuck out in the middle of nowhere in the Sudanese bush.
It's a wonderful world...
Wednesday 7 July 2010
Monday 5 July 2010
Chali...
This weekend I went on another adventure, to a town called Chali. For those of you who don't know (which I suspect is most of you...), Chali was the location of one of the first ever SIM mission stations in South Sudan, way back in the 1930's.
I went there with my friend Masir (who you may remember from my account of my epic trip to Kortembak) to visit his family. Masir is married with six kids, here is him with his family, in front of his house. Where they all live.
It's pretty small for a family of eight, I'm sure you'll agree. For the first time in ages I Was surprised by how basic his home was. they only had one chair, which I had the honour of sitting on for the duration of our visit.
We travelled there on saturday morning, spent the afternoon sitting around drinking coffee and talking Uduk (Masir's from the Uduk tribe...and I did more bemused listening rather than talking). I spent the night in the local pastors house, where he kindly gave up his bed and slept on the floor. Although to be honest, I'm not entirely convinced the floor might not have been more comfortable. During the night it rained heavily. This was a problem, and not only because pastor Solomon's roof leaked above my bed. I had a river to cross to get home and I was anxious that we may not be able to cross...
On Sunday, after church (and another sermon from yours truly, on ten minutes notice) and masses of food, we set off for home, braving the mudiest roads I had ever seen. We got slightly stuck a couple of times, but managed to free ourselves, before this happened:
In a hilarious twist of irony, we were stuck almost exactly where I got the puncture in the aforementioned trip to Kortembak. After a while of trying to get unstuck, I was beginning to get worried. Credit to Masir, he was getting stuck in digging with his bare hands, but I was fairly sure that wasnt gonna work, and so we set of for the nearest village (called Nila), to beg for help.
After recruiting a couple of guys from there, we were on our way again.
However, the remainder of the journey was not withour it;s anxiety. We left Doro with a full tank of petrol, but when we arrived we had less than half left, and there was no petrol for sale in Chali. or anywhere in between. As it happens, we did finally run out of petrol...about 5 minutes walk from home. Which was a massive relief. Here are Masir and I, looking relieved...
In other news, we still have the team from Scotland with us, and they have been a blessing to all and sundry...on the building site, we continue to progress, whilst simultaneously pushing the boundaries of health and safety practice. Here are Stu and I in one of the less extreme examples:
In more extreme (unphotographed) incidents, I nearly put a circular saw into my leg, and one of the other lads dropped a spinning angle grinder from above his head. But God continues to protect us...
We've also had a (at times heated) football match agains the local lads, which ended in a tightly contested 1-1 draw. I think we're having a rematch tomorrow. I'll let you know how that goes...
I went there with my friend Masir (who you may remember from my account of my epic trip to Kortembak) to visit his family. Masir is married with six kids, here is him with his family, in front of his house. Where they all live.
It's pretty small for a family of eight, I'm sure you'll agree. For the first time in ages I Was surprised by how basic his home was. they only had one chair, which I had the honour of sitting on for the duration of our visit.
We travelled there on saturday morning, spent the afternoon sitting around drinking coffee and talking Uduk (Masir's from the Uduk tribe...and I did more bemused listening rather than talking). I spent the night in the local pastors house, where he kindly gave up his bed and slept on the floor. Although to be honest, I'm not entirely convinced the floor might not have been more comfortable. During the night it rained heavily. This was a problem, and not only because pastor Solomon's roof leaked above my bed. I had a river to cross to get home and I was anxious that we may not be able to cross...
On Sunday, after church (and another sermon from yours truly, on ten minutes notice) and masses of food, we set off for home, braving the mudiest roads I had ever seen. We got slightly stuck a couple of times, but managed to free ourselves, before this happened:
In a hilarious twist of irony, we were stuck almost exactly where I got the puncture in the aforementioned trip to Kortembak. After a while of trying to get unstuck, I was beginning to get worried. Credit to Masir, he was getting stuck in digging with his bare hands, but I was fairly sure that wasnt gonna work, and so we set of for the nearest village (called Nila), to beg for help.
After recruiting a couple of guys from there, we were on our way again.
However, the remainder of the journey was not withour it;s anxiety. We left Doro with a full tank of petrol, but when we arrived we had less than half left, and there was no petrol for sale in Chali. or anywhere in between. As it happens, we did finally run out of petrol...about 5 minutes walk from home. Which was a massive relief. Here are Masir and I, looking relieved...
In other news, we still have the team from Scotland with us, and they have been a blessing to all and sundry...on the building site, we continue to progress, whilst simultaneously pushing the boundaries of health and safety practice. Here are Stu and I in one of the less extreme examples:
In more extreme (unphotographed) incidents, I nearly put a circular saw into my leg, and one of the other lads dropped a spinning angle grinder from above his head. But God continues to protect us...We've also had a (at times heated) football match agains the local lads, which ended in a tightly contested 1-1 draw. I think we're having a rematch tomorrow. I'll let you know how that goes...
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