Lokichoggio

Two years ago, I spent several afternoons sitting on this screened-in porch in desolate Lokichoggio. I sat here, watching gangly go-away birds hop through the thorns of huge acacia trees in the sandy yard, and pondered what shape my life was about to take. All my earthly belongings were stashed away in trunks stored at the airstrip only a couple kilometers away, waiting to be loaded up on a little chartered airplane heading North. This guesthouse in Lokichoggio was a decompression chamber of sorts, a place to wait out limbo, a layover between worlds.

I am here again. Both in Lokichoggio and in limbo. Yesterday Bryan flew out on another little chartered plane headed North loaded down with a fuselage full of more earthly belongings miraculously necessitated by ten pounds of little girl. We were supposed to be with him - me, Annabelle and my sister Abigail who is spending her university summer break with us. But as we packed up our bags to finally head home after six long, wonderful, busy weeks of bringing Annabelle into the world (and getting her birth certificate, passport and vaccinations...) politics up North were simmering. Almost overnight news articles, phone calls and rumors all bubbled to the surface bringing with them phrases like, "forceful disarmament", "border disputes", "troop movements" and "ready to die for our freedom". In both ominous yet unreliable rumors and sterile yet trustworthy news sources, June 1st was cited as the big day. The day Northern forces were meant to "disarm" Southern troops in our area. The day after we were meant to arrive back home.

After much discussion, prayer, research and yes, a couple tears, we decided that Bryan would fly in and join our colleagues on the ground in assessing the situation. Best case, all of this will fizzle into mere hype or stalemate as it has done in the past and he will work on making the house a bit more habitable (i.e. solar panels set back up, hole in tent that thieves cut patched up, sand dunes in kitchen swept out) and after about a week we will fly up and join him. Worst case, this turns out to be the beginning of what the world has pessimistically predicted and he will have a few days to lock down the house for a longer stay out before coming out to join us again.

So I am sitting on a screened-in porch in Lokichoggio, in-between worlds again, and feeling a plethora of things. Lonely for my husband who I hate being away from. Worried about him while he is up North in a crazy time. Jealous that he is going to have amazing adventures without me. Guilty for thinking of political turmoil in terms of "amazing adventures." Homesick for a home I have been away from too long. Grateful for a sister helping out with a new baby.
Limbo. It's where I am right now.