You Know You're In South Sudan When...

1) The kids affectionately call you Sister

2) Young children come to church alone in the dark (at 6:45am) for daily mass before school

3) Mass is occasionally interrupted by goats chasing each other through the church

4) You realize that donated clothes do actually make it to Africa

5) Kids bring you mangoes every day and try to trade them for balloons

6) You have bananas both as small as 4 inches and as long as 1 ½ feet

7) You have a blast playing Throw The Rock As Far As You Can with little kids for over an hour (it really is the simple things in life that are the best)

8) The kids’ favorite “toys” are motorbike tires, sticks with pieces of metal on the end, and cars made out of scrap metal or beer cans

     

9) It takes several hours to hand-wash your laundry, and your clothes still don’t come out particularly clean

10) Babies’ stomachs are distended from malnutrition, and “Sister, I’m hungry” is a sadly common phrase

11) You are horrified to hear someone beating and/or drowning a baby… then realize the noise is just a goat

12) The boys make bricks throughout their entire summer holidays, on the weekends, after school, and occasionally during school hours, and try to sell them in hopes of being able to earn money for their school fees

13) The kids have a very limited number of belongings, and when things rip or break (like their shoes), they just tie them back together.  They also make what they can’t afford to buy, like shoes made out of a car tire

   

14) Your goats make too much noise for one of the priests to sleep, so one by one you turn them into dinner

15) The Sisters BOSS UP on a daily basis

16) A baby owl shows up on your doorstep at the convent (because you are awesome and live in a convent) and you name her Olivia and become best friends.  Then you find her two brothers and become a Mama to all three.

17) A six-foot-long cobra also shows up at your doorstep and you have to chase it up a tree and kill it with rocks and sticks 

  

18) You freak out with excitement when new solar panels come and you are able to turn on the lights for the first time

19) You almost have a heart attack when you find out you can also use the fridge

20) At any given time, there are 20 kids around you engaged in kung fu reenactments

  

21) Football (soccer) is king

22) Kids’ wounds get seriously infected because are often unable to keep them clean/bandaged (thank God Gracie is here to nurse them back to health)

23) People pass around babies to whoever is willing to hold them (it really does “take a village to raise a child”)

24) You get to teach the Mamas in the community how to read and write

25) Women breastfeed everywhere and occasionally ‘forget’ to re-clothe themselves when they’re finished

26) People carry everything on their heads

     

27) A 10am meeting starts at 12:30 – “Africa time”

28) You use a tractor to take the kids places

29) You share the road with cars, motorbikes, pedestrians, dogs, goats, and cattle

    

30) You have to close the school for two weeks so the UN can de-mine your land

31) You have a steady stream of VIPs visiting you (Bishop,  Ministers of Education & Interior, Governor of the state, UN delegates, etc.)  because the work the Salesians are doing is vital to the community

32) The kids cultivate land that your community lets them use to help feed themselves

33) Hair plaiting (braiding) is a long and sometimes painful community affair, but absolutely necessary to do on a regular basis

  

34) Products have rip-off brand names like Adidona (Adidas), Cool Cola (Coke), Nice Cola, and Converge (Converse)

35) In a given day, students ask you to give them your pen 3,871 times

36) Ashes on Ash Wednesday are white

37) People love to dance, dance, and dance some more

38) The best conversations take place at the water-pump that the whole community shares… but you don’t understand any of it because you don’t speak Zande, the local tribal language

39) You get to be a part of major projects from their very beginnings – a new convent, new hospital, new great hall, and new school

40) Two people are buried in your front yard because you built your convent on land previously owned by villagers, and people sometimes bury their relatives next to their houses (and obviously, desecrating a grave is not kosher in the Christian faith)

41) The children provide a wonderful example of simple, exuberant love for Jesus

And the last way you know you’re in South Sudan is…
 You live a life that is happy, joyous, full of love, and intimately connected to Christ, and wouldn’t change a single moment of it for all the riches in the world.

Reality Check

Recently, I've gotten some reality checks and harsh reminders that have me taking stock of some basic differences between my world and my students’.  Little by little, I am starting to see deeper into the actualities of their lives and into my own as well.

Events:  1) I was walking on the school playground and stepped on something sharp.  I looked down to find an inch and a half worth of a bullet.  I picked it up and exclaimed, “is this what I think it is?!”  One boy turned and nonchalantly confirmed its identity the way I might say, “you’re holding a pen.”

2) We've canceled school for the next two weeks because the land we're expanding into has to be de-mined and we can't have any curious kids running around.  We also accidentally cultivated on land that hasn't been de-mined yet (only through the grace of God did we not meet with disaster).

Reminder:  The war was fought here, on the ground I stand on every day.  On the land of these kids’ homes.  They have been exposed to war on a very personal level, and in fact, their whole lives have been shaped by it.  It’s very sobering to know that they have known such violence so close up.

Event:  During oratory, I noticed a small, sad boy sitting by himself.  I asked if he would play a game with me and he reluctantly agreed.  We played cards for a while and he started to come out of his funk.  When a third kid joined us, I taught them Go Fish (my American attention span, or rather lack thereof, means I am constantly introducing new games).  The sad boy became happy and both loved the new game.  We spent time together, just sharing our lives with each other.  More boys joined and it was all smiles until the end of oratory.

Reminder:  What does it mean to be an SLM?  It means I am here to be the body of God’s spirit on Earth, to see Christ in the faces of the kids, and to serve Jesus in the little ones under my care.  Every morning, I read St. Theresa of Avila’s poem/prayer “Christ Has No Body” to center myself and remind me of these things.  God has given me this incredible opportunity to be here in Africa not to make grand plans, not to enact big change, not to DO anything.  He has put me here so that I may BE with the children.  He has put me here to simply sit in His love and to invite others to sit in His love with me.  He has also put me here to learn about love from those who know it the best: children.  What a gift to be an SLM instead of a regular volunteer.

Event: A boy in my class told me his mouth was hurting.  When he opened for me to see, there was a huge hole from the side of his tooth that went all the way through, essentially cutting two teeth in half.  His entire mouth was one big cavity.

Reality check:  Healthcare here is improving, but it's still a difficult situation.  They don’t have any dentists in South Sudan at all.  People just deal with the pain until the tooth falls out (most of the adults have only a handful left).  In a country where getting enough to eat is a serious problem, extra care for luxuries like teeth can’t afford to be a priority.  I am living with the poorest of the poor.

Event:  As I was working in my office, I got some visitors from P8 (8^th grade – 16 to 20 years old).  One picked up my wireless mouse and asked what it was.  When I told him, he looked at me with an expression that seemed to say, “Oh Sister Cait, you think you’re sooo funny.  'Mouse.'  Ha, ridiculous.  Let’s just call this desk a Zebra, shall we?”

Reality check: They have no idea about the basic components of a computer.  The technology that we Westerners take for granted as the bare minimum to teach even our preschoolers might as well be a space ship to the kids here.  This means that one ticket out of here for these kids lies in having even the most basic, fundamental background in computers.  I hope I can help them with that while I am here.

Event:  Roffina (another P8 girl) walked in as I was tending to my addiction to CNN.com.  When she asked, I told her I was reading the news.  There was silence, then she repeated “the news” as if she were trying out the word for the first time.  “Do you know ‘news’?” I asked.  She shook her head and leaned in closer to the screen.   I explained that people write stories about what’s going on all over the world, and I read them to find out what’s happening.

“Like what?”

“Well, for example, in America [insert summary of news story 1]”

“Oh.  What else?”   [story 2]   “What else?”   [story 3]  What about here in Africa?  What about in *reads screen* Ay-see-aye-ah?  What else?  What else?  What else?  What else?”

This continued until I ran out of things to read to her.

Reality check: She didn’t know the words “news” or “Asia”, and had no concept of being able to know what is happening around the world.  She doesn’t know anything except what’s happened in this tiny village over the course of the last 15 years.  The people here, their world is small.  Really small.  They are ignorant, not because they choose to be but because they do not have the means to be anything except that.  But once she got a tiny taste, Roffina was hungry to know all about the world.  She often reminds me of myself, and this thirst for information is no exception.  The only difference between us is that I’ve always had access to newspapers and tv news broadcasts and the internet, and she’s had… well, nothing.  Only as a result of the places we were born.  This has me asking God, “why?” out of both sadness (for her) and gratitude (for me).

Despite the fact that I live here now, my life and the lives of the people are still worlds apart.  Their paths have been more difficult in many ways, there's no denying that, but does that mean that their lives are worse while mine is better?  I don't think so.  I think they're just different.  And I don't know if my kids would feel the same way because I am still very much an outsider (and perhaps I always will be), but in my view, we're all in this together.  So I'm very grateful to God for continuing to show me what is really at play here in a way and at a pace that I can understand.

Maridi Gets Moving Again

Holidays are over now, which means the pace here in Maridi is quickening.  The children returned to school Jan 28^th from a two-month hiatus, just in time for yet another celebration.   I am so grateful to have school responsibilities now and to be living with & for my kids here in South Sudan.

Teaching:

  Now that school is back in session for the new year, I’m much busier than I’ve been over the last two months.  And for me, busier is better.  I am teaching  English Composition to grades 4-8.  There is no curriculum and no books to work off of, so I’m creating my own course completely from scratch.  This is mostly exciting and a little bit intimidating.  These kids have zero background in writing (I found out today that my 6^th graders don’t know what a sentence is) which means that right now they know nothing, and hopefully by the end of the year they’ll know something.  I will teach them the importance of being prepared for class (and life), organization skills, respect for their resources (notebooks and such), and good study habits in addition to neat handwriting, vocabulary, creative thinking, and solid critical writing.

  I’m also teaching English reading, writing, and public speaking to the three aspirants a few times per week (aspirants are young men preparing to enter the seminary).  And I’ll start coaching football next week.  This is another area in which the girls have little to no background, which means I have the privilege of building a team from the ground up and introducing to them all of the priceless things sports teaches kids.  I have a few other administrative duties, but the teaching and coaching are by far my favorite and what will take up most of my time.

Ordination:

Last week, we had an ordination here (when someone officially becomes a priest).  There was a Vietnamese deacon who couldn’t be ordained in his home country because of the Communist government, and he chose our little village as the place for his ordination.  What an honor!  It was an amazing sight to witness, a man saying “YES!” to God.  “Yes” to following the Shepherd, and “yes” to leading His sheep.  It was inspiring to say the least, and especially good for our children to see.  I only hope to channel his spirit and willingness in my attempt to guide my students.

Open My Eyes, Lord

Every once and awhile, there comes a moment that makes you stop in your tracks.  A moment that makes you realize how little you know or how much you’ve taken for granted.  A moment that changes the way you see things:

The other day, I was arranging the jumbled, dirty, all-out-of-sorts storage room in the school.  I love to clean, and organizing is fun for me, so I was happy to have the job.  I danced around to Taylor Swift as I sorted through the materials.

                I thought I was being over-carefully “mission-minded” regarding our resources: 

I saved half-used notebooks with scribbled-on covers because there were blank pages; 

I saved partially-destroyed textbooks because there was some readable material inside; 

I saved every filthy waterlogged box because we can use the cardboard…  You get the idea. 

And I had to fight the urge to throw away all of these things that took away from the look of perfection I was striving to create.  I was sure that what I trashed was truly useless garbage. But what happened next has brought serious reflection on my mission here:

***

I brought the garbage outside and told the kids to take whatever they wanted and burn the rest.  When I gave them free reign on the trash can, you would have thought I just told a bunch of 10 year olds I was taking them to Disney World for a month.  I can’t describe their jubilation.  At first I smiled at their simple, almost silly, happiness.  But as I watched them whip through the contents of the bin, checking for hidden treasures, my emotion started to shift.  They shouted with delight as they found what their stupid, careless teacher had discarded: half of a broken crayon, a tiny piece of chalk, a string, the insert to a pen, a bead, part of a balloon, etc. 

There were also some gems too good to be true that (in all their honesty and goodwill) they brought back to me saying, “Sister, this one’s good.”  An alphabet book had to be put back on the shelf, which devastated the child who had found and fought for it.  I took a calendar back before realizing it was from 2012, and when I returned it to the boy, he literally jumped for joy and screamed at the top of his lungs before racing off to show anyone/everyone.  This was a child whose family could not afford him even one new shirt for Christmas.  That old calendar is probably the biggest ‘gift’ he’ll get all year

***

As I looked around at the faces of children in a state of ecstasy over a trash bin, I suddenly found myself intensely saddened. “This is the face of true poverty," I thought to myself.  “It’s not necessarily the grim, despondent expression on a person staring into the lens of a UNICEF camera.  It’s in the over-elation of these children, right here, right now.”  Tears stung my eyes as I stared at my kids proudly holding up their prizes.  I felt a wave of guilt.  I had danced around to cheerful music as I dumped the “useless” items into a pile of things to be burned.  I was happy to get rid of these things.  I had wanted to get rid of so much more.  All of a sudden, I felt disrespectful.  And ignorant.  And a slew of other things I've had trouble sifting through in the days since.

Later, I thought of something I had written down at orientation (in red ink no less) as something to be constantly aware of: “Social analysis: what is really going on here and why?”  I realized that a) I don’t know, and b) I haven’t even really been paying close attention.  Talk about a challenging recognition.

I have always said that what I want most in life is to Understand.  And coming to South Sudan has been the biggest step I've ever taken in that endeavor.  I want God to open my eyes, I mean really open my eyes, to the realities of life here.  But at the same time, I am afraid of what I will see.

December Celebrations

Here in Africa, people rejoice.  A lot.  In the past month, I’ve sung, danced, laughed, and cheered more than I thought I ever could in such a short time.  It has been wonderful!  I will share with you the top three celebrations.

Centenary
                I spent a few days in mid-December celebrating the Centenary, 100 years of the Catholic faith in this diocese.  It is a crazy thought, that out of over two thousand years of the Church, people here have only known Christ for a hundred.  The faith is young, and in many ways, it is still “on the skin”, but the people have the passion needed to push it forward into the next 100 years and beyond.
                The celebration was huge - 10,000 people.  Most arrived in the back of overcrowded pickup trucks or on bicycles, and a great number of people walked - for 4 days.  And this is South Sudan, so there were no hotels, restaurants, or indoor bathrooms.  People set up tents, ate what they carried on their backs, and made do with what they had.  Some had a piece of cardboard to sleep on and nothing else.  But they didn’t care.  The only thing that mattered is that they were there to celebrate their faith.  Amazing!  There was so much JOY present.  I was overwhelmed  by the sincerity of everyone around me.  The buildings at the site were decrepit, but the people could not have been more alive.
                The masses each day went about 5 ½ hours and included a mass wedding, ordination, and performance of the first missionaries' arrival.  There was a procession of a giant crucifix brought around to each parish’s campsite.  It paused for everyone to kneel, and then the members of that parish joined the crowd moving to the next.  That’s how life should be lived, in my opinion.  People taking time to acknowledge God’s presence in their own lives, and then joining the journey of saints, bringing Christ to those closest to them.   We also did a walking rosary and then danced into the wee hours of the morning.  That’s how faith should be lived, in my opinion.  Part solemnity & deep personal prayer, part communal merriment & joy lived out-loud. 
                HOW blessed am I to be part of a very first Centenary celebration of our faith?!  Talk about a once-in-a-lifetime experience!!!

Centenary vestments.

People kneel before the crucifix.

Christmas

                This Christmas celebration was different from past years.  It was without the one thing many people associate most with Christmas - wrapping paper littering the floor around the tree.  The people here want only one new shirt of skirt for Christmas (the only one they will get for the year).  That's it.  So simple, so humble.  And so terribly heartbreaking, some cannot even afford that.  No one got 3 meals, much less a Christmas feast.  So the day was about one thing and one thing only: celebrating the birth of our Lord.  Inspiring.  Challenging.  Thought-provoking.  Beautiful.
               At Christmas Eve vigil mass, In front of a packed church,  I attempted a reading in Zande.  I butchered it beyond recognition, but everyone was very nice, nobody laughed, and they cheered for me anyway.  I vowed to do better next time.
                Christmas night, we had a celebration at the convent.  Much to my surprise, we all got gifts.  It’s kind of like my being here, in a way.  Before I came, I expected to have a wonderful time.  I expected to be with amazing people.  But I didn’t expect all the extra blessings I’ve gotten.

The tiny nativity scene Aunt Fran gave me in 2010.
It has kept me focused all season with its simplicity.

The nativity scene in front of the altar in the church.
Its glowing lights pierced through the dark,
guiding all to worship on Christmas Eve night.  

New Years
                Wene Vuvu Gara (Happy New Year)!  I rang in the new year in a t-shirt.  This in-it-of-itself is a magical, wondrous, news-worthy thing.  And I have my lucky number 13 in the year.  But these small gems took a back seat to the fabulous celebration that took place here on New Year’s Eve night.
                We started singing at 9pm, had Adoration at 10, and mass at 10:30.  At midnight, we held a mock-trial for the fate of 2012, represented by an 9 foot tall scarecrow-like Old Man.  He was found guilty and sentenced to death by being burned at the stake.  Then we splashed some gasoline on him and lit him up.  Flames 12 feet high turned my gaze upwards.  It continued until I was taking in all the majesty of the stars above.  I got to thinking about how much I am loved.  Both by my family and friends who support me being here, and by God who makes all things possible.  I will never understand the depth of that love, or why God has given me more than I could ever imagine (and certainly more than I deserve), but I am endlessly grateful for it.
                HOW blessed am I to be part of such culturally-rich and faith-focused African New Year’s celebration that blended worship and festive silliness?!  How amazing is it to finish one year and start another inside a packed church?  Perfect.

Peace out, 2012.

The Old Man Grace made for us.

Burning the past.

                2012 had its share of bumps in the road, but ultimately it was very good to me.  It changed my life by changing my location.  2012 brought me to South Sudan, brought me here to Africa so that I may live my dream.  And now I start this new year here where my heart has been for so long.  The year ahead is full of promise and endless possibilities.  It is my hope that I will continue to grow in my faith, learn about myself, be challenged, practice patience and humility, and find the capacity to love, love, love.  I have made a few small new year’s resolutions (don’t oversleep and don’t be late, to start), but my main commitment this year is very simple:  Be God’s tool.  Be Jesus’ hands.  Be a vessel through which the Lord can communicate His undying love for humanity.  And as I cannot in my own strength do this, nor even with a hope of success attempt it, I look to my Father and ask for the gift of the Holy Spirit. 



I gratefully thank you, dear readers, for your company on this journey so far.  2012 was a wonderful adventure.  I hope 2013 will be even better, and bring you as much happiness as your life can hold.

A Reflection on Advent

 Part I: 

                When we had German visitors stay with us, one of them asked to talk with me about what Advent is like in South Sudan.  It got me thinking about what this season means in the cultural sense.

                There is not much of a “pre-Christmas” feeling here.  When we had an end-of-the-school-year party, we blasted Christmas music; it felt absurd.  Some of that feeling is because it was 95° outside instead of 35°, true enough.  But it’s more than that.  To me, the holiday season is about a focus on family, precious time spent together reliving old memories and creating new ones, and appreciation for what we have in life.  And how do we experience these things?  Through family traditions.

               We cut down Christmas trees.  We get out ornaments that send us skipping down memory lane.  We bake gingerbread cookies.  We string bright lights outside our homes and light warm fires within.  We awe children with tales of St. Nicholas, and spend untold hours getting gifts ready for loved ones.  These are the things that spell out “Christmas”… in America.

                In South Sudan, there are no Christmas trees.  There are no ovens.  There is no electricity.  Santa’s reindeer don’t know the way here.  Coal is a valuable resource used for cooking and heat.  There are no shopping malls, and “every kiss” certainly does not “begin with Kay”.  The Christmas feasts to which we are accustomed look a little different here – “breakfast, lunch, and dinner?!  all on the same day?!?” – but the vast majority will not get even that small luxury. 

                So it feels a little different, being here this year.  The Advent season seems less hyped-up, less significant, less holiday-ish.  Almost as though Christmas might be an afterthought that follows “oh hey, today is Tuesday”.  But that feeling is a result of looking only through the lens of Culture.

Part II: 
                 As I (jealously) skimmed over Facebook statuses of those headed to Cape May for Advent Retreats, I got to thinking about what this season means in the religious sense.
                 This year, I appreciate much more than I ever have before the meaning of my parents’ favorite bumper sticker:  Keep ‘Christ’ in ‘Christmas’.  In years past, I was embarrassed by this brazen declaration of religiosity.  I said, “Happy Holidays” to avoid offending.  I set up nativity scenes all around the house, but was not moved to prayer by the absence of the infant Christ.  This year, I am empowered by my faith.  The pendulum has swung the other way.  The carols I sing are about Jesus, not Santa.  I’ve been trying to unwrap my heart for God, not wrap gifts for relatives.

                In a way, Advent here is a lot more work than it has been before.  Here, I must prepare my spirit to welcome God.  That’s much more complicated than preparing a wreath to welcome guests at the front door.  And it’s much easier to clean a house than it is to try to wipe a soul clean.  But that’s the whole point, isn’t it?  That I can’t clean my soul – only He can.  I need Him to come, this infant child who would save the world.

               So it feels a little different, being here this year.  The Advent season seems more purposeful, more significant, more holy.  Almost as though Christmas will provide all the hope necessary to get us through the next 364 days – the hope of the Light of Christ.  I believe it will.  And I will continue to keep that at the very forefront of my mind.  After all, “He is the reason for the season.”

A Month of Change

The last month has been overwhelmingly busy, which for me is a good thing.  Some very big things have happened here!

Big Event #1: Our Sisters Arrive!

                The first exciting thing was the arrival of our Sisters on November 11^th.  Four Visitation Sisters of Don Bosco (VSDBs) were scheduled to come work here in Maridi way back in July.  But they kept getting delayed over bureaucratic red tape in their native India (problems with their passports, I was told).  So when I heard they were actually in the car on their way from Juba (where they’d flown in to), my heart leapt for joy.

I knew I was eager for them to join our community, but what I felt right before their arrival and for the rest of the day took me by surprise and overwhelmed me.  From the moment they stepped out of the car, I LOVED them in a way that seemed to surpassed human love.  The only explanation I can offer is that God was LOVING them directly through my own heart.  LOVING them with a force and authenticity that could only have come from Him.  To be a vessel for such indescribably powerful emotion was … unreal.  I do not understand why God keeps allowing me, keeps choosing me, to have these experiences, but I gratefully yearn for more.

The Sisters’ arrival was intense.  Their car stopped a few hundred yards before the house so they could take part in the parade – yes, parade – that welcomed them.  I thought I was overwhelmed when 20 children greeted me uppon my arrival!  The next day, we had a school mass of epic proportions.  600 people jammed into (and sat outside of) our small church, each adding something spirited to the service.  The villagers had asked what they could offer to the Sisters, and were told food was a good option.  I think China could have fed its people for 3 weeks with what was laid at the Sisters’ feet.  The rest of the day, they sat as Distinguished Guests on the platform of the school, not unlike queens lovingly surveying their people, as everyone in Manguo Parish honored them with songs, tribal dances, speeches, and a girls’ football game.  I was so happy when they joined in on one of the dances.  It set a great tone for how awesome they’d be to have here.

I moved into the brand new convent with them and got re-settled for the third (and hopefully final) time in South Sudan.  (Momentary pause: I live in a ‘convent’.  How cool does that sound?!?)  In the weeks since, I have enjoyed every second I’ve gotten to spend with them, and appreciate them more with each passing day.  They are so spirited, so lively, so holy, kind, nurturing, genuine, exuberant, motherly, humble, hysterical… the list goes on ad infinitum.  They brighten my world so much with their presence.  I almost can’t imagine what life was like before they came.  And it’s nice for the women to outnumber the men, too J.

The Sisters get adorned with African garb.

Big Event #2: We Inaugurate Our New Hospital!

                The Salesian presence has only been here a couple of years, but in that short time they’ve built a church, a school, a convent, AND a gorgeous (and huge) Health Center.  We held a ceremonial mass to bless it on November 20^th.  A lot of work went into organizing such a huge event, and thankfully it all came together perfectly.  The Bishop presided over the mass along with our priests.  The ECS Bishop took part as well, showing strong support and cooperation between our faiths (ECS = Episcopal Church of Sudan, the other Christian denomination prevalent here). Nearly 100 of our children received sacraments, 22 of whom were anointed - which means they came from the ECS Church into our Catholic faith.  (The two faiths are very similar, but the biggest difference is a crucial one:  Protestants believe that the Eucharist symbolizes the Body of Christ, which he gave the 12 Apostles at The Last Supper.  Catholics believe that once a priest blesses it, it literally becomes the Body of Christ.)

The guest list for the event included the Acting Commissioner of Maridi, Ministers of the Interior, Education, and Health, and the Governor of our state, among others.  It was video and audio taped for television, radio, and print news.  It was (as one would imagine) a very – BIG – deal.  And I got to sit front-row, in the best seat, and play photographer for our community.  I got to be a real part of something monumental.  It was an extremely humbling experience.

                The Minister of Health said that South Sudan has the worst healthcare of any country in the world, and that our state has the worst healthcare in South Sudan.  It made me realize how truly vital our hospital will be in bettering the lives of the local people.  Made me realize how much God is blessing us with the ability to make an impact on this growing country.  And I got to witness its very beginnings.  Again, so deeply humbling.  Then during his speech, shocking us all, the Governor handed one of his cabinet members an order to grant the Salesians with more land (“within 7 days”) to continue furthering our mission here.  We are already building a great Hall next to the hospital, and our next project (with the new land) will be either a secondary school or a technical school so that our students can continue their education with us.  We have the support of the government, we have the support of the people, and  most importantly, we have the support of Our Heavenly Father.  What an amazing blessing to be an SLM here in Maridi at a time like this!

The bishop blessed my BEDROOM!
Talk about a once-in-a-lifetime experience :)

The Bishop delivers his homily underneath a banner
that reminds us of our mission.

Big Event #3: Our New Brother Comes!

                Bro. Julius joined us from the Democratic Republic of the Congo about a week ago.  He hit the ground running, and his dedication to the boys was clear from Day 1.  Except when he is sleeping or eating, he is with the children (and sometimes he skips the eating).  He's already coaching football for both the "big boys" and the "medium-sized boys" and wants to assistant-coach my girls' team as well.  He brought with him a new ball and even orange cones!  Together, we will build great teams!  But much more importantly, seeing how he interacts with the children, I have already learned so much.  Each evening as I journal, some new inspired insight hits me, some positive, others challenging.  In my time in Africa, I have grown as a person every single day because of the amazing people I am surrounded by.  But this Brother, I think, will be a particularly significant person for me to follow.  I can’t yet describe the effect observing him has had on me, but I feel something stirring within me (the Holy Spirit?) that is both inspiring and peaceful.

Other Happenings:

The End of School:

                The end of the school year came fast and furious, and I was put in charge of organizing and typing all the exams.  I got to revisit something I learned at Orientation:  “Even when you are not directly interacting with a child, you are directly impacting and bettering the life of a child.”  Keeping this in mind made me grateful for being able to do my work.  A wise friend once taught me to replace the phrase "I have to" with "I get to".  Very quickly, the one-word-change shifts perspective on everything!  (Try it.  Seriously.)  I will admit, frustration still got the best of me a few times, but hey, it’s “progress not perfection” right?  And it humbled me so much every time I got another exam, handwritten by a teacher on sometimes-already-used paper.  The teachers themselves, the professionals, have no computers, no way to create a simple test for their students.  And here I am with my own laptop and the skills to use it efficiently.  How many synonyms for “blessed” are there?  How many ways are there of saying “thank you God! But why me?"

Visitors:

                We’ve had quite the influx of visitors recently.  Salesians moving around the country have come to spend time with us, sometimes for a few days, sometimes just a few moments.  When they are here, they are family.  And I feel it just like that, so happy they’ve come.  So blessed to be a stop on their journeys.  There is a twinge of the inner joy of family present during those times.  I have felt this way with my beloved Marianist family as well.  Maybe this is how God created us all, meant to be intimately connected with one another, meant to truly appreciate the value of each person who crosses our path.  Maybe I feel this way when I am with religious orders because I’m closest to God here, because my spirit is more open to His graces.  One day, I hope I can harness this Love with/for everyone I meet.
  

Humanitarian Efforts:

                We had some visitors from Germany whose organization sponsored renovations on the school and who were looking into a possible partnership between our schools/students.  It’s hard to believe I am on the ground seeing the receiving end of humanitarian efforts.   More poignantly, for one day I looked at Maridi as they did, with fresh eyes, hungry to take in all that is Africa.  It made me appreciate how blessed I am to be living this life.  They only stayed 36 hours – I get to stay a year.  This has been my dream for as long as I can remember, and I get to live it every single day.  Their stay also showed me that I have come to understand this culture more than I’d realized.  I still have a loooong way to go, but I feel… like I'm starting to belong.  And not just in the “God wants me here” sense (I’ve had that from Day 1);  in the sense of “this really is my home, and I am responsible for it”.

All-in-all, this past month has been a lot of things.  But what has struck me most deeply and most often is a profound sense of humility, penetrating all the way through my soul.