This morning we were sitting under a tarp sipping tea at a road-side stand in Juba. We watched people passing on the road, women frying bean-chapati wraps, and the three young women who were busy washing cups and serving tea in their makeshift stall. Business slowed, and they circled their chairs around a bowl of beans. One of them beckoned us over. “Come, eat,” she said invitingly, first in Arabic and then in English. They added chairs in their circle, and we joined them, dipping pieces of bread in the common bowl of beans. We only know a few words in Arabic, but we were able to introduce ourselves and ask their names, and it felt like a meaningful connection. “We’re eating local food.” Bob whispered between mouthfuls, “This is what we’ve been praying for!” Truly – just because of the way things worked out, we had no yet eaten truly ‘local’ food with South Sudanese people…until today.
We returned to Juba from Nairobi on Monday. Bob is still recovering from the Epstein-Barr virus, but we are slowly re-engaging with life here in Juba as his energy allows. Before going to Nairobi, we had been in Juba for two weeks, and had just begun to find our way around the city and get settled in our apartment. But those two weeks were enough to make it feel like we were coming ‘home’ this week, even though we had been gone in Nairobi for five weeks. We were so grateful to finally unpack our suitcases after our long absence and reconnect with new friends and colleagues.
On Tuesday, as we were eating dinner and reflecting on our first day back in Juba, Bob said, “Even though I don’t feel 100% physically, I feel much more ready now emotionally and mentally to engage in life here.” And it does feel like even with our current limited activity, we’ve explored new places in the neighborhood, practiced new phrased in Arabic, taken the bus to the end of the line near us, gone to the immigration office and gotten three-month visas, and as of today had tea at a road-side stall and shared a meal. So many little steps that go towards making us feel much more ‘at home’ here than before.
When we were preparing to return to Juba, my Dad suggested the phrase “Walk slowly, and carry a grateful heart” to use as a repetitive prayer, or ‘breath prayer’. As Bob is stil recovering, we need to remember not to push too hard or too fast. And we have much to be grateful for, and being concsious of those things helps us to have the right attitude that can weather the challenges. Yesterday when the sun finally cooled down around 6pm, we were strolling down a dirt road in our neighborhood, watching kids playing and men drinking tea. We recited to ourselves, “Walk slowly, and carry a grateful heart” and then we started naming some of the many things we were grateful for in that day. So many things! After our weeks in Nairobi dealing with sickness and being forced to take a slower pace, we are more aware of our own weakness, reminded of our dependence on our Good Shepherd, and grateful for the simple pleasures and victories of life.
Watching the sunset from our apartment – one of the many things we are grateful for!