It is currently a balmy 88 degrees under partly cloudy breezy skies. Sami, next door says this occurs once a year.
I have figured out how to open the top windows at the back bedroom and now have a breeze throughout the house. There is a tree outside the window.
Also, lots of men sitting under the tree playing dominoes.
When I awoke at 8:30 it must have been a little cooler and it felt chilly.
Yesterday the high was 110.
I have rigged my laptop to run off electricity from an outside plug and have it perched on top of the water storage barrell. All this under the sunshield.
Rascal seems to like the company and I love being outside.
Today, I will be reading the first lesson at church at 6 PM, Genesis and the beginning of the story of Jacob and Esau.
There are many accents at this English speaking service. A great group of Africans and some ex
-pats from around the globe.
I am actually worrying about being understood.
Speaking of ex-pats, there is a heighten sense of awareness about being such in Sudan for the past few days.
The announcement by the ICC tomorrow regarding Sudan means lots of rhetoric is flying around.
You can be sure that what it all actually means will play itself out somewhere in western and/or southern parts of Sudan.
Please continue praying for Sudan, those in authority and its people.
7/13/2008
7/10/2008
George, I had to love him
I have returned to the house after watching a soccer game from the front courtyard, fenced in of course.
Rascal had spent the evening "playing" with the neighborhood boys who delighted in a number of games.
See how close you can walk to the fence.
See how Rascal charges innocent passerbys and watch them jump, then laugh.
See how Rascal chases empty water bottles like a soccer ball.
See how Rascal likes being petted.
These boys can think of so many things to do with an object they cannot touch.
Since it is now noon on the east coast, I check my emails again and this time, the internet is working.
Just in case any of you might be getting the impression that I am congratulating myself on a job going well. Or, that I have taken the credit for why I am here. Or, that I am racking up brownie points for the big ending, I am not.
To keep me honest, I read The Rev. E. James (Jim) Lewis' Blog, Notes from Under a Fig Tree.
In this writing, Jim calls attention to one of my favorite comedians, George Carlin.
Hearing George's routine as a teenager, I would always look around to see who had heard me laugh. He was so irreverent.
It was such guilty laughter. I was not supposed to think George was funny. But, he was, to me, up until the day he died.
His humor, if I let it, forced me to think about so many issues in such different ways.
I remember hearing his routine about golfcourses and cemeteries. He believed that with all the homeless in the world, why was a little white ball and the dead offered so much space.
At the time, I was heavily involved with the LPGA at the DuPont Country Club which was supporting Ronald McDonald Houses. I remembered initially being indignant that he should attack something doing so much good for so many.
Now, I am not involved and I think was he right?
Well today, Jim reminded me about two other routines that George used.
(Now do not go getting nervous)
The first was the Hippy-Dippy Weather Man.
Weather forecast for tonight: dark.
Continued dark overnight,
With widely scattered light by morning.
The second was one of George's takes on religion.
"Religion has actually convinced people that there’s an invisible man living in the sky who watches everything you do, every minute of every day.
And the invisible man has a special list of ten things he does not want you to do.
And if you do any of these ten things, he has a special place, full of fire and smoke and burning and torture and anguish, where he will send you to live and suffer and burn and choke and scream and cry forever and ever ‘til the end of time!
But he loves you.”
I find it helpful to laugh at myself every now and then.
Rascal had spent the evening "playing" with the neighborhood boys who delighted in a number of games.
See how close you can walk to the fence.
See how Rascal charges innocent passerbys and watch them jump, then laugh.
See how Rascal chases empty water bottles like a soccer ball.
See how Rascal likes being petted.
These boys can think of so many things to do with an object they cannot touch.
Since it is now noon on the east coast, I check my emails again and this time, the internet is working.
Just in case any of you might be getting the impression that I am congratulating myself on a job going well. Or, that I have taken the credit for why I am here. Or, that I am racking up brownie points for the big ending, I am not.
To keep me honest, I read The Rev. E. James (Jim) Lewis' Blog, Notes from Under a Fig Tree.
In this writing, Jim calls attention to one of my favorite comedians, George Carlin.
Hearing George's routine as a teenager, I would always look around to see who had heard me laugh. He was so irreverent.
It was such guilty laughter. I was not supposed to think George was funny. But, he was, to me, up until the day he died.
His humor, if I let it, forced me to think about so many issues in such different ways.
I remember hearing his routine about golfcourses and cemeteries. He believed that with all the homeless in the world, why was a little white ball and the dead offered so much space.
At the time, I was heavily involved with the LPGA at the DuPont Country Club which was supporting Ronald McDonald Houses. I remembered initially being indignant that he should attack something doing so much good for so many.
Now, I am not involved and I think was he right?
Well today, Jim reminded me about two other routines that George used.
(Now do not go getting nervous)
The first was the Hippy-Dippy Weather Man.
Weather forecast for tonight: dark.
Continued dark overnight,
With widely scattered light by morning.
The second was one of George's takes on religion.
"Religion has actually convinced people that there’s an invisible man living in the sky who watches everything you do, every minute of every day.
And the invisible man has a special list of ten things he does not want you to do.
And if you do any of these ten things, he has a special place, full of fire and smoke and burning and torture and anguish, where he will send you to live and suffer and burn and choke and scream and cry forever and ever ‘til the end of time!
But he loves you.”
I find it helpful to laugh at myself every now and then.
Change of Plans
I am not going to Juba.
That does not mean that I am coming home.
Instead, the person that I am to train in the Juba office is coming here.
Why?
Little things like no computer. Or no guarantee of electricity. Staff in Khartoum needs more training.
So, I proposed bringing Rev. James here and Tito will take his place, temporatily, in Juba.
So, Rascal is happy, I am happy, let's hope everyone is happy.
Let's hope it rains a little.
That does not mean that I am coming home.
Instead, the person that I am to train in the Juba office is coming here.
Why?
Little things like no computer. Or no guarantee of electricity. Staff in Khartoum needs more training.
So, I proposed bringing Rev. James here and Tito will take his place, temporatily, in Juba.
So, Rascal is happy, I am happy, let's hope everyone is happy.
Let's hope it rains a little.
7/07/2008
The Bishop's New House
On Thursday, June 26th, the congregation from All Saints Cathedral gathered with representatives of the ECS Province, the Diocese of Khartoum, and friends and family of Retired Bishop Bulus Idris Tia to bless this new house.
The house is located in one of the most western parts of Omdurman.
In another entry I had traveled to the northern most parts of Omdurman, first to attend the Youth Drama Day (Post for June 22) and then Sunday, June 29 to attend church with Tito and his family at Emmanuel Episcopal Church. 
Tito and I rode up to Omdurman together, he dropping me off to get my haircut and he to get the Secretary’s car fixed. We met at the Diocesan office.
By small convoy, we made our way southwest, Bishop Ezekiel Kondo, Bishop of Khartoum, in the lead car.
In our car, we traveled with the oldest Canon priest who had long since retired after serving 55 years as the Canon to the Ordinary, the current Canon, a spry 60, and the former Diocesan Secretary.
I felt right at home, taking a road trip to points south.
The service was due to start at 4:30 PM, but got started closer to 5 PM as they tinkered with the sound system. Though, sitting under a tent, one did not need to have sound. 
However, no Sudanese can speak without a mike, and once the mike is in hand, they cannot stop speaking.
We finally left at 8:30 PM. Tito traveling north and east and I traveling south and east.
My ride back to Khartoum was in one of the school vehicles owned by The Diplomatic School.
This school started 20 years ago teaching 9 children and teach over 500 this year
The family that started the school is that of Mr. Ustaz Johnson Nyeko, Senior Warden of All Saints Cathedral - Khartoum and chair of this building committee.
Though an extremely gifted man, Mr. Ustez, a Ugandan, can speak just as long as if he were Sudanese. And he really only speaks English, so the former Diocesan Secretary was volunteered into action the entire night translating into Arabic. 
After the summary of the project by Mr. Ustez, no mere amount of 66,000 pounds, the house was blessed by Canon Joseph, the Dean of the Cathedral and Bishop Kondo as we held candles and moved from room to room ending up in the back yard.
Once completed, we moved back outside for some brief comments.The briefest comments were by those not in attendance.
The longest was by the Dean, who even though he said he would not repeat what others had said, he did. And, when he said he only had “one more word” on the subject, he did not. He had several thousand.
At one point, a choir member turned to me and mouthed “ Welcome to Sudan.”
A hint for the Diocesan Convention planning committee: never book anyone from Sudan to speak, ever.
I learned that an Egyptian Muslim couple had donated all of the concrete towards the laying of the foundation. 
Other firms had donated computers, piping, water all to be auctioned off.
Other firms had donated computers, piping, water all to be auctioned off.The British Embassy contributed. And, the people of All Saint’s Cathedral - Khartoum each donated one pound each.
The most moving part of the evening was the turning over of the keys to the family.
Not a dry eye in the bunch as the Bishop’s wife hugged the current Bishop. Each whispering into each other’s ear.
Oh, my mistake.
The Bishop’s widow hugged the current Bishop.
Bishop Bulus had died 18 months prior from cancer.
This house was his special project but he had only completed building the storage shed and one wall on the property line when he died. 
He died leaving his wife and children virtually homeless.
He died leaving his wife and children virtually homeless.Throughout his Episcopacy, Bishop Bulus spent more time providing a roof over other families
than he did for his own.
He always thought he had more time.
He always thought he had more time.
So, for the first time ever in Sudan, a congregation took upon themselves to build a house for a bishop.
And, a beautiful house it is.
7/06/2008
Luke 12:48
Disclaimer: I am a child of the 60's and I voted for John F. Kennedy.
That said, go ahead, grab your Bible, I'll wait.
Tick,
Tock.
Tick,
Tock.
I was reading Dana Milbank's blog, Rough Sketch http://blog.washingtonpost.com/roughsketch/, and his posting of Russert's Grand Goodbye where he provided a link to the video of Luke Russert at his dad's, Tim Russert, memorial service at the Kennedy Center.
It was during his rememberance of his father, that this bible verse was quoted as one of Tim Russert's favorites and it is also one of mine.
The first time I remember hearing it, it was said by President John F. Kennedy, though a slightly different version than Tim Russert's.
President Kennedy also said:
Ask not what your country can do for you, ask what you can do for your country.
Anericans were being asked to provide time and talent in service to others. I had planned on joining the Peace Corp after college. Obviously, goal and reality are some years apart.
The Kennedy's and the Gate's use this bible verse to explain their involvement in social, educational, and environmental causes in our country and around the world.
However, I wanted to know the exact wording in the King James Version of the Bible.
Google to the rescue, and inundation. This phrase is used ALOT.
The first link connected me to a post by Dr. Mark Liberman, a linguist.
Dr. Liberman http://www.en.wikipedica.org/, has researched the many ways this verse has been used and how many ways it has been altered throughout generations.
That said, go ahead, grab your Bible, I'll wait.
Tick,
Tock.
Tick,
Tock.
I was reading Dana Milbank's blog, Rough Sketch http://blog.washingtonpost.com/roughsketch/, and his posting of Russert's Grand Goodbye where he provided a link to the video of Luke Russert at his dad's, Tim Russert, memorial service at the Kennedy Center.
It was during his rememberance of his father, that this bible verse was quoted as one of Tim Russert's favorites and it is also one of mine.
The first time I remember hearing it, it was said by President John F. Kennedy, though a slightly different version than Tim Russert's.
President Kennedy also said:
Ask not what your country can do for you, ask what you can do for your country.
Anericans were being asked to provide time and talent in service to others. I had planned on joining the Peace Corp after college. Obviously, goal and reality are some years apart.
The Kennedy's and the Gate's use this bible verse to explain their involvement in social, educational, and environmental causes in our country and around the world.
However, I wanted to know the exact wording in the King James Version of the Bible.
Google to the rescue, and inundation. This phrase is used ALOT.
The first link connected me to a post by Dr. Mark Liberman, a linguist.
Dr. Liberman http://www.en.wikipedica.org/, has researched the many ways this verse has been used and how many ways it has been altered throughout generations.
Oc course, the version that Tim Russert and I like, is gramatically incorrect.
Though the intent remains.
Blessed
An adjective used to describe someone highly favored or fortunate or having good fortune bestowed or conferred upon.
I cannot quite buy into the idea of being highly favored. I tend to think of kings and princesses and concubines. Obviously, too much Hollywood.
However, fortunate or having good fortune that is much easier to accept.
I am fortunate in my family and friends, in having a roof over my head, food of every kind in abundance, steady employment, ownership of property, the ability to travel anywhere, and the expectation that I can practice my faith any where I choose.
I live in a country not divided by war, relatively free of disease, with an education system open to all.
I did not have to leave America and come to Sudan to appreciate these things.
I came to Sudan because of the verse.
What verse?
For unto whomsoever much is given, of him shall much be required.
President Kennedy's paraphrasing:
Of those to whom much is given, much is required.
I expect that in the future much more will be required of me, since much has already been given.
7/04/2008
Freedom Forth
Yesterday evening produced a surreal moment.
(Dr.) Fares, one of Rascal's saviors, had come to say hello so I "hired" him as my driver to the power company.
(His car has AC, so theoretically, I would "hire" him at all times, to hell with his job.)
The place was packed, so Fares wanted to know if he should go in with me.
"No, I'll be fine", I said, as I got out of the vehicle dressed in 3/4 length pants and a tank top. "No, problem."
The line was long, but it usually moves quickly.
The older gentleman behind me, dressed in appropriate Arab white, fashionably buttoned at the neck, wearing a matching turban and sandals, smiled at me and told me that I could go to the front of the line.
Not wanting to appear special and not wanting to butt in line, (remember the school cafeteria),I replied that it was OK. I would wait.
No, he insisted. In his country women are given the "priviledge" to go to the front.
I am the only woman in the place, I am obviously not Sudanese, and now every male is staring. Please he says, in this country we "honor" our women.
Oh...kay.. here is a defining moment in my stay in Sudan.
I am, however, spared jailtime, by the entry of two girls and one woman, who go to the front and butt in line.
Given this, I too walk to the front.
Of course, not all men are as "enlightened" as the older gentleman. They still make the girls and woman wait. Such scoundrels.
Getting back into the car, FAres notices my "look". Am I sad?
Nope, just perplexed.
How can one country be proud of allowing women the priviledge of getting into a faster line, but to do so, they should be covered head to toe, preferably in black.
They must study apart from men, they must worship apart from men.
They have arranged marriages, usally with much older men who have more than one wife.
Though men walk around freely holding each other's hands, women must refrain from doing so.
And, when it comes right down to it, getting in another line is not a priviledge, it is an order. Another rule that re-enforces just who is in charge of making the rules.
To choose who to study with, who to worship with, to choose who to marry, or to skip down the streets holding hands, or to stand at the back of the line all day, is truly a priviledge.
So, on this special day in the states, where there will be fireworks exploding, chorus' singing, grills cooking, prayers invoked, service men add women remembered, I say this:
Freedom Go Forth.
(Dr.) Fares, one of Rascal's saviors, had come to say hello so I "hired" him as my driver to the power company.
(His car has AC, so theoretically, I would "hire" him at all times, to hell with his job.)
The place was packed, so Fares wanted to know if he should go in with me.
"No, I'll be fine", I said, as I got out of the vehicle dressed in 3/4 length pants and a tank top. "No, problem."
The line was long, but it usually moves quickly.
The older gentleman behind me, dressed in appropriate Arab white, fashionably buttoned at the neck, wearing a matching turban and sandals, smiled at me and told me that I could go to the front of the line.
Not wanting to appear special and not wanting to butt in line, (remember the school cafeteria),I replied that it was OK. I would wait.
No, he insisted. In his country women are given the "priviledge" to go to the front.
I am the only woman in the place, I am obviously not Sudanese, and now every male is staring. Please he says, in this country we "honor" our women.
Oh...kay.. here is a defining moment in my stay in Sudan.
I am, however, spared jailtime, by the entry of two girls and one woman, who go to the front and butt in line.
Given this, I too walk to the front.
Of course, not all men are as "enlightened" as the older gentleman. They still make the girls and woman wait. Such scoundrels.
Getting back into the car, FAres notices my "look". Am I sad?
Nope, just perplexed.
How can one country be proud of allowing women the priviledge of getting into a faster line, but to do so, they should be covered head to toe, preferably in black.
They must study apart from men, they must worship apart from men.
They have arranged marriages, usally with much older men who have more than one wife.
Though men walk around freely holding each other's hands, women must refrain from doing so.
And, when it comes right down to it, getting in another line is not a priviledge, it is an order. Another rule that re-enforces just who is in charge of making the rules.
To choose who to study with, who to worship with, to choose who to marry, or to skip down the streets holding hands, or to stand at the back of the line all day, is truly a priviledge.
So, on this special day in the states, where there will be fireworks exploding, chorus' singing, grills cooking, prayers invoked, service men add women remembered, I say this:
Freedom Go Forth.
7/02/2008
Deep River Crossings
Deep river
My home is over Jordan
Deep river, Lord
I want to cross over into campground
Deep river
My home is over Jordan
Deep river, Lord
I want to cross over into campground
Oh, don't you want to go
To that gospel feast
That promised land,
Where all is peace
The composer and lyricist of this Negro Spiritual are unknown.
Hearing this sung affects me spiritually, emotionally and physically.
Just copying the lyrics into the blog are shaping my morning.
I have heard it sung by Paul Robeson and Barbara Streisand. There is a great version performed in Japan and on an internet Christian Cafe.
I weep everytime, but I am never sure why?
I have had many deep river thoughts here in Khartoum. Many want to cross over into print.
However, standing on this river bank one does not make that crossing easily, if at all.
Crossing can be dangersous not only for the crosser, but those you leave behind.
I have made the decision that this river will be crossed upon my return.
I am not willing to endanger those I leave behind.
My home is over Jordan
Deep river, Lord
I want to cross over into campground
Deep river
My home is over Jordan
Deep river, Lord
I want to cross over into campground
Oh, don't you want to go
To that gospel feast
That promised land,
Where all is peace
The composer and lyricist of this Negro Spiritual are unknown.
Hearing this sung affects me spiritually, emotionally and physically.
Just copying the lyrics into the blog are shaping my morning.
I have heard it sung by Paul Robeson and Barbara Streisand. There is a great version performed in Japan and on an internet Christian Cafe.
I weep everytime, but I am never sure why?
I have had many deep river thoughts here in Khartoum. Many want to cross over into print.
However, standing on this river bank one does not make that crossing easily, if at all.
Crossing can be dangersous not only for the crosser, but those you leave behind.
I have made the decision that this river will be crossed upon my return.
I am not willing to endanger those I leave behind.
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