- Pushing a plane out of the mud in Boma, Sudan
The irony of the moment did not escape me. In prior months, if our activities did not go according to plan, my jovial co-workers often teased me by asking: “do you want to cry now?” Sometimes the question came after receiving news that rain canceled a long awaited trip, or, when the electric generator broke, leaving us without power. ”Do you want to cry now?” one of the young men would ask with a smile.
Usually when my Sudanese colleagues, with whom I ate 3 meals a day, teased me, I laughed, feeling far from tears. A canceled trip was a lesson in flexibility and a night without electricity meant an evening of telling stories under the stars. My last day in Sudan, however, was an exception to the norm.
As th
e plane pushed off the dirt runway, my eyes remained glued to the place where waving friends became dots on the horizon. I watched intently as communities I loved turned into fading circles of cleared land and mud homes in a vast green valley. After a minute or two, uninhabited territory stretched below us for many miles. I could not hold back the tears. They seemed to come from a deep place which had not been reached in a long time. Combined with the tightness in my heart, they hurt.
My husband sat next to me, his presence bringing comfort in this long-dreaded moment. In the weeks preceding my departure, I convinced myself that I was saying “see you later” and not “good-bye” to my home for the past year. Once geographically distant, I faced the harsh reality that I may never return to this isolated place; a miraculous place where my voice became more confident and clear. A place where I learned to be a better storyteller, to drive a motorbike, to see great hospitality in a glass-bottled soda, to sit and listen to others, to listen to God, to listen to myself.
Since that day, I drift back and forth between gratitude for the most transformative experience of my life and a feeling of mourning at the loss of a lifestyle and sense of community I had grown to cherish.
Posted on October 31st, 2010 by Nancy
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