Arrival in Duk - Monday June 11

Up at 4:30 am for 5:30 loading of the van with ten pieces of luggage from the Mayfield container. At AIM Air I learned they already had 900 kg from Jeti's purchases on our behalf - food and some building supplies, beds and mattresses - and I had 276 kg with me. The Caravan can carry 1000 kg, and we also had passengers in addition to me: two clinic staff: Lillian, a midwife, and David, a lab technician. Prioritizing: I decided to leave behind the beds and mattresses.They're heavy and bulky. After referring to my content list. I list the contents for each bag or tote as I pack and indicate priority items. From here it's the pilot's decision. We had to leave a container of oil, a bag of potatoes, and a bag of beans to accommodate the luggage for Lillian and David.

Nate is our pilot, a young guy I've flown with before. It took a long time for customs to clear all our bags. We finally got off the ground about 8. Now at 9:20, we are arriving in Eldoret, Kenya to refuel. Then on to Juba, the capitol, where we must go through immigration for our Visas.

We were not able to pull up as close to the airport in Juba as in the past, but we arrived when no other larger planes were on the ground, so there was no wait at immigration. We caught a ride to the terminal and back with one of the airport crew, then $100 a pop for a single entry Visa to Republic of South Sudan. No multi-entry visas available.

The Lost Boys Clinic staff had reported to me that the airstrip was flooded on Friday, but they were working to drain it. Part of a dike had given way. Though it is the rainy season, this is about two months early for the type of flooding they are experiencing.
The strip was nice and clear for our landing, and there was a huge crowd to greet us. Our girls in their red uniforms stood together waving. Many people assisted in unloading our heavy cargo. Most of my bags were 50 + pounds, and we also had 50 kg bags of beans, potatoes and other foodstuffs. The bigger problem was how to get it all to our site. Even if there was a working vehicle in the village, which there is not, the roads are flooded ankle to knee deep - impassable by car.

If you saw our girls heft these huge bags on their heads, some of them walking without even a hand held to steady the bag, you wouldn't believe it. I've seen it many times, but it always amazes me. And they can carry these heavy loads a great distance. The walk to our site from the airstrip takes about 20 minutes through the water. I didn't even have to carry my backpack as it was spirited off my back and onto Akuol's, one of our ASAH girls.

Arrival in Duk

June 21

Our chartered AIM Air flight allowed for 1000 kg of cargo and passengers. We filled it to the max with our cargo, Joseph, Angie, myself, and Boniface, a Kenyan Internet serviceman flying to Duk to repair International Relief Development's (IRD) dish misalignment.

Our flight was delayed which allowed us to savor some African tea (heavy on the milk and sugar) and samosas at Wilson Airport, and to chat with a gentleman preparing to leave for South Sudan on a huge (in comparison to ours) Samaritan's Purse plane.

We stopped in Lokichoggio to drop off an AIM staff member and refuel, then to Bor, the capitol of Jonglei State, South Sudan, to drop Joseph. As we approached Duk Payuel our pilot agreed to circle our building site so that I could shoot some aerial photos, though he warned that if the large birds (I don't know what they're called, but they're huge) that make Duk home were soaring overhead, he would have to abort.

The John Dau Foundation (JDF) Lost Boys Clinic staff awaited us with a car along the airstrip, and IRD (International Relief Development) staff were there with a car to pick up Boniface. When I landed last fall, car travel wasn't possible due to the flooding, so all my cargo had to be carried on the heads of women or the shoulders of men and boys. (The position of the burden is cultural.) It took several round trips to ferry the cargo to storage at the school. The community and our other NGO partners, JDF and IRD help us out, which makes working in this difficult environment easier and more pleasant.

ARRIVAL in the US December 15

December 18, 2010

The world of international air travel is straightforward and mysterious at the same time. I'm accustomed to lugging baggage from one place to another, a process somewhat more laborious returning from Africa than traveling from the US. First, lift the bags to travel along the belt to be scanned for contraband, then drag them to the weigh station and sigh gratefully when they're marked acceptable. Drag them to the line and show your documents—passport and ticket. Pull them, stopping and starting to reach the check in counter. Show your ticket and passport once again. And then, if you're determined to upgrade to a better seat, step behind the counter and queue at the door to the office of the single agent assigned to this task. He will not look up at the waiting passengers. He will stare at his computer until he is finished, focused on the task at hand. I'm a little irritated when an airline agent brings a passenger in front of me, and I must wait. It didn't take long, but he didn't solve the passenger's problem—no seat assignment. If you travel on KLM from Nairobi to Amsterdam, there is an economy comfort class. It was worth the upgrade fee to me. I am suffering from three prolapsed discs—one quite severe—causing two fingers in my right hand to tingle continually, exacerbated by moving my arm forward, typing on the computer, hanging my head forward—my discomfort is relieved slightly by soldier-at-attention posture—shoulders back, head upright, and by minding the way I move that arm. The seating was great—more legroom, more recline, wider seats, and a dark cabin which made sleeping much easier. My travel companion in Kenya, board member Ron Saeger, kept his regular seat, where they left the lights on, and he was disturbed by an unruly and noisy child, undisciplined by the parents throughout the flight.

Arriving in Fargo was a shock to the system after six weeks in African weather—the heat and humidity of Duk Payuel, the warmth of Nairobi coupled with cool nights, occasional rain, and the similarly delightful weather in Eldoret and Nakuru. Blog posts from these adventures will begin to flow in days to come. There was little access to Internet much of the time in Kenya, and Ron and I were busy busy busy with our eight boarding school kids.

My first night home was restless in spite of the 24 hours of traveling. The nine-hour time difference had me drowsy during the day, and I fell asleep at 9 pm. At one, I awoke—sure that I'd accidentally changed the clock. My body clock felt like 10 am. I forced myself to sleep—woke at 2, woke at 3. Got up at 3:30. Had coffee. Read a book because the newspaper hadn't yet arrived. The pets wanted to get up with me, so I fed them. Took Destiny, my aging Cavalier King Charles spaniel out at 5 am.

I live in downtown Fargo, in a condo. Despite her age and failing heart, Destiny followed me down six flights to the side door, and shot outside scattering the pristine snow that had fallen during the night. The streets were clear, the snow pushed up on curbs and into tremendous mounds in parking areas and at corners. Destiny bounced along through the chest-deep powder, my boots crunching alongside her. The air was crisp and so cool and clean in my nostrils, which were assaulted for weeks by the reddish silt that blows through the Kenyan streets, the black diesel smoke that billows from buses and trucks and matatus.

It's a pleasure to be home. I'll be with my family for Christmas, and that's a blessing for sure. But my work in Sudan and Kenya is unfinished. I'll be returning in March.