On Thursday, the parish here in Gumbo celebrated the feast of their patron, St. Vincent de Paul. While I had no idea what to expect, I knew it was going to be big. The choir practiced everyday for what seemed like hours in preparation for the Mass and program that followed, and a bull was slaughtered during the ceremony the night before. Several tents were set-up outside the church for the overflow of people and for the events. The Mass was amazing, with lots of singing, dancing, and African yelling throughout the three hour-long ceremony. Many guests came, including the Vicar General of the Juba Diocese, the Minister of Agriculture and Forestry on behalf of the Governor, and several groups of religious sisters, and after Mass they all came back to our house to enjoy the bull for lunch.
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The procession about to enter the church
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Sisters bringing up the gifts, with dancers lining the aisle
The program began around two, and included many speeches, traditional dances and sketches. After a long day outside, the final event was a Bari (the local tribe) traditional dance. The dance consisted of a few drummers in the middle, with lines of men and women slowly shuffling around in a circle. Several minutes passed watching the dance, and seeing more and more people from the crowd enter, Sister Antoineta told me to go join. When she tells you to do something you do it, so I got into the line of men though I’m not particularly fond of dancing. With the laughs and hollers of the people, I began to get into it, and decided to attempt “the jumps.” I had no idea what they meant, but I saw a pre-novice and seminarian doing it, so I figured I was in the clear (after I found out you are trying to out jump all the other men to marry the tallest girl). As my adrenaline started to pump, I kicked off my sandals and went for it (I’m in a light green shirt in video below). It was a moment of joy letting myself go and joining in the traditions of the community that so graciously welcomed me. As you can see and hear the crowd loved that I was involved, especially the women at the bottom of the picture.
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A view of the program
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Bari traditional dance
After Mass the next morning, a middle-aged woman called me over and began talking to me about my dancing from yesterday. I only understood a few things that she said, but Brother Jackson translated for me. She essentially said that I was a natural, should join the Bari Tribe, and marry a tall girl from the village. I smiled and said thank you, not knowing what to say. At the breakfast table, the priests and community shared quite a few jabs and laughs as I told them what had just happened, but I was happy to know I was no longer thought of as a guest, but rather a member of the community.
 
While I am settled down here and feel at home, my body and mind are still adapting to the country and culture. The weather here is hot (in the 90’s everyday with a scorching sun) despite it being the “winter” here. In fact, it was so “cold” one of the mornings after Mass, that one of the locals thought it might snow (it was maybe in the mid 60’s). Arabic classes are also continuing, and though I am becoming more competent speaking to others, the best communication I do is still through a smile.

Last Sunday, a group of us traveled to Mogri (one of the sub-center parishes nearby) to celebrate the Eucharist. During the bumpy, hour and a half drive we passed through a few military checkpoints, saw a demining effort in progress, and even witnessed a couple monkeys in the middle of the road. We finally arrived at the “hanging church,” which was a small dirt area underneath a tree. To let the town know the Mass was about to begin, the “church bell” was rung, by hitting half of a bombshell with a hammer. During the Mass, dogs and chicken would occasionally walk in front of the alter, as herds of goats and cattle passed behind us 100 feet away. A little bit different than my usual Sunday mornings back in Sylvania, OH as you can imagine.

The week flew by once again. In addition to teaching, my website duties, and playing with the kids, I spent Tuesday morning with several others planting over 100 trees at the new Priests’ House and Wednesday hand washing my clothes. Yesterday, I went to the Preschool’s show, and heard them sing songs and tell stories of the animals in the jungle. It was such a joy to see these little ones, and reminded me of the shows of my younger siblings back home. Today, during a three hour-long celebration, I witnessed 44 beautiful children enter the Church through the sacrament of Baptism. Again, it was such a joy to share in such a special moment with the community, despite understanding few of the words spoken.

And despite all these somewhat difficult adaptations I am making, and noticing all these differences that are so apparent though my physical senses, I feel completely at ease and at home. Why? Because of the welcoming community and grace of God! While normally the change would be daunting, the feelings calmness and comfort fill me, and the presence of Christ strong knowing I am called to be here.

Goodbye until next time!
 
I have been here just a week, but it seems like it has been months (in a good way). The location is almost exactly what you might picture “Africa” to be like; grass huts, dirt roads, barefoot children with secondhand clothes. The community, both the Salesians and the Gumbo community, are very welcoming and kind which made for an easy transition into a completely new part of the world.  Within the Salesian community, there are three priests, one deacon (becoming a priest in December), nine sisters, three brothers, five Pre-Novices, another volunteer from India, and the four SLMs (Luke my site partner, Grace and Caitlin who are staying for a few weeks before heading off to Maridi, and me). As you can imagine, there is never a dull moment.

The days begin with meditation, prayer, and Mass each morning, followed by my duties of teaching and website management.  I also started taking Arabic classes, which is spoken by the locals, many of whom don’t speak English. By mid-afternoon all of the children come out to play, and the oratory begins. Within the first day of playing futbol with the kids, I became known as Messi (an Argentinean soccer player) because I wore the jersey of his club, am white, and have long hair like him. Today, after playing with the Don Bosco Senior team, I was asked to play in the match they have on Friday, and said yes though I have no idea what the match entails.

As far as my teaching duties go, I am teaching English, Methodology of Study, and Good Manners to the five Salesian pre-novices. They are all Sudanese men ranging from 19-25 who are beginning their journey to become Salesian priests.  It will be quite a challenge, as I did not expect to be teaching these subjects at this level, but hey, its what the Salesian mission is all about! I was also tasked with updating and maintaining the website for Don Bosco Sudan and South Sudan (donboscosudan.org), so feel free to give any comments or suggestions on it.

The food here is all very good. Breakfast is usually small, with some bread and eggs.  For lunch and dinner (the leftovers of lunch are dinner) we always have rice, with some sort of chicken or vegetable dishes as sides. The best part however, is the abundance of fresh fruit that grows on site, including passion fruit, guavas, papayas, bananas, and custard apples. I have yet to find something I don’t like.

There is so much more I could tell about, but here’s a start and thanks to all for the continued prayers and support!

 
The journey has finally begun! I safely arrived in Juba, South Sudan on Monday after long day of travel. The trip was anything but perfect. On my flight from Detroit to Washington D.C. at 5:45 AM, my seat was right next to the flight attendant’s station, which meant loud noises and bright lights, and led to little sleep (I only slept for a couple hours the night before). On the main flight from DC to Addis Abba, Ethiopia, my TV/entertainment system didn’t work, orange juice was spilt on my lap, and I barely got any sleep during the 13.5 hours.  On the final leg from Ethiopia to South Sudan, I was finally able to sleep. However, out bags did not arrive at first, only to come dripping wet and four hours later.  Despite all these minor inconveniences that usually would have taken a toll on me, I could do nothing but shake my head and smile with how inconsequential they were compared the happiness that consumed me.

After waiting a few hours for our bags at the Juba Airport (which consisted of one room with a waiting area outside) we met up with Fr. Ferrington, the Salesian we have been in contact with here. He took us for a bite to eat, and we eventually located our bags and made our way to the Salesian compound (I have updated the map on my homepage with the exact coordinates if you want to zoom in and take a look). We crossed over the White Nile and headed down a bumpy dirt road into the village of Gumbo, with smiles and waves greeting us along the way. After settling in, we went to Mass, followed by Rosary and dinner.

Once dinner was finish, we all went to bed, exhausted from the 30+ hours of travel. As I lay awake sweating from the heat and with a mosquito net above my bed, I could once again do nothing but smile, recognizing the many blessings God has bestowed on me and anticipating the journey ahead.