THW/Padibe

Today was another visit to Padibe Girls School with the Construction Committee to finalize the placement of the booths for various cultural exhibitions and where the performers of traditional dance, music, and storytelling will prepare and make their entrance to the stage or performance area.

The other day I mentioned how much progress there has been since the cease fire from the war some 9 years ago, but so much remains the same on every one of my visits: There are literally thousands of children everywhere, but less to see this visit because of the school holiday; everywhere most people use walking as the primary mode of transportation; if one has a bicycle, it is used for work: carrying water jugs, firewood, straw for hut making, large bags of harvested grain; and everywhere women and girls of all ages are carrying loads on their heads. These photos are smaller loads, but today I saw women carrying loads of wood heavier than I could even pick up. I will try to get more photos of this “local tradition”.

Then I climbed on behind George on the small motorcycle (Boda Boda) for a hour and a half ride over dirt roads with long sections in very poor shape to the neighboring parish at Made Opei. Before I climbed aboard they made me put on a long jacket to keep out the dust. The jacket was made of all plastic, like my light rain coat, with a very light polyester lining. I also wore my black backpack on my back. Luckily I had a chin strap on my hat and sunglasses. And, it was 1:30 pm with a temperature of about 95.

When we arrived at the church in Madi Opei I had sweat so much in the heat I was drenched. They hung the jacket inside out on a clothesline to dry, but my shirt, which I could have rung a quart of sweat out of, I had to continue wearing.

We had a great visit with Fr. Mark, who is also Dean of the district of parishes. He has been here for only a couple of years and I first met him at one mass while he was in Padibe for a few days on one of my visits.

Fr. Mark Oryema, pastor of Madi Opei Catholic Mission and dean of the district.

Madi Opei is only 14 kilometers (8.5 miles) from the South Sudan Border. This part of South Sudan is populated by a different ethnic group of people than the part of the border I have most often visited in Padibe Parish, Nomoromo. In the part of South Sudan bordering Nomoromo, the people are also Acoli, but not near Madi Opei. This is why there is much more chance of violence and theft here.

4 weeks ago and about 40 kilometers (25 miles) from the parish, the civil war fighting in South Sudan was so bad over 350 people crossed the border and came to Madi Opei for safety. They were taken care of for several days by he local people until the UN arrived and trucked them to a refugee camp West of Gulu. I think Fr. Mark and his parishioners could all use our prayers, and especially for the poor civilians in South Sudan.

Fr. Mark, whose parish is only 8.5 miles from the South Sudan border.

Where is my Go Pro when I need it!!! As difficult as it was to take a video while riding a Boda Boda and traversing through the middle of a herd of cattle, I did the best I could. But, there were so many sights I would have taken if I wasn’t holding on for dear life!

Actually, George drove very safely knowing I was on the back. We stopped at a few spots, but pretty much kept the pedal to the metal, but oh the roads and the red dust! I am sure I ate enough dust for a whole meal.

A lovely water pot made by a neighbor of these ladies. All of the pot making, ceramic, work was lost during the war, but is gradually coming back.

We made it hone safely just after dark because there were some clouds on the horizon. I could not believe how tired I was and all I did was ride on the back! But after a cold shower, clean clothes (I was just as sweaty on the return as when we went), and a cold Nile Special, I sat outside and worked on the blog until I just had to go to bed.

Mary, the better half, and Peter the youngest son, made it on one trip in December 2012. We were visiting the home of Okello Bob in Gulu.

Today is Saturday, but everyday is pretty much the same for the people here except Sunday, because this is the time of the big “summer vacation” from schools and it is so hot and dry not much work is done in the fields. The morning was spent spending several hours with Augustine and Tommy finalizing the script for the Collaborative Drama. Then it had to be printed and photocopied. Now, printing and photocopying is very difficult in Padibe. There is actually one shop that has both machines, but it depends on if the power is working on this day or this hour, if there is paper on hand, or if there is toner in the machines. If not, TIA, you just have to wait until they get it. Thankfully, it was our lucky day and all was prepared, even though it took hours just to print and photocopy the script.

After that I met a man who said his name was Alfred and was a local fisherman. I couldn’t imagine where he fished, but he said he would bring some on the next day. I later found out that there is a small dam a few kilometers away where you can get some kind of mud fish. Needless to say it was not something Doris would accept for feeding us at our table.

All of the afternoon was spent with Onencan Simon Peter, the student we support at Lacor seminary, and his family at their place. Thomas is his elder brother and is also going to attend major seminary, but with an order of missionaries in Nairobi, Kenya. As is tradition here, if the elder brother is present, he does most of the speaking to the visitor. Here is photo of some of the younger children and others who gathered from nearby homes.

Simon Peter, on the right, Laughing with elder brother, Thomas

All the neighboring children have come to see the mzungu (white man) posing by the banana trees.

Here are a few video clips as the children were entertaining me.

One girl of about 12 was very shy and very afraid to speak. I asked Simon Peter if I was scaring her. He said no, she is an orphan they have adopted some three or four years ago. Her mother was tortured quite badly for a long time by the rebels and she lost her mind along with her body being in very bad shape. Since the girl is part of the clan, it is the responsibility of other clan members to take care of children whose parents have died or are incapacitated. So, Simon Peter’s parents took the young girl in and now take care of her. I asked them if she would like me to pray for her and with their eager permission did so on the spot.

That evening I thought I was going to Otim Richard’s for dinner, but it turned out to be a function for a rather new group int he community : Friends of Life. It is a group that any one can join for a small ($3) membership fee and monthly dues of $1.50. Their mission is to support each other in their needs. I, of course, joined and paid up for a whole year with the condition I would be excused from the monthly meetings. There were a few speeches by the local invited politicians, a game where many won a small prize (mine was a simple pen), a dinner of goat meat or roasted pork, cabbage with tomatoes and onions. This was followed by “drinks” of either warm beer or soda and much dancing. It was great fun.

Then it was off the bed.