Nsanje, Malawi: Homeward Bound

Even as I made my way home (about thirty-eight hours of air and waiting time) I read about the unrest in South Sudan with fighting erupting in Juba. This was touted to be a possible coup as a result of a power struggle between President Salva Kiir, a Dinka, and his Nuer ex-deputy Riek Machar. The rivalry sparked a widespread ethnic conflict spreading to five of the ten states with an estimate of 120,000 people being displaced and most are housed in UN camps and about 1,000 killed. Unity State where I volunteered last spring, a Nuer territory, is now occupied by rebel forces capturing the city of Bentiu. The peace in South Sudan is very transient and fragile. My e-mail to Johnson with whom I worked in Unity went unanswered, I hope he is safe.

Nelson Mandela in Parliament Square, London

I had an eight hour lay-over in Heathrow. So I took the Underground into Leicester Square and wondered off to Trafalgar Square. In front of the South African Embassy was a makeshift memorial for Nelson Mandela who just passed away a few days ago. I revisited a few familiar places in central London for old time’s sake having spent a few months in London University many years ago as an exchange student: Buckingham Palace, St. James’ Park, White Hall, Westminster Abbey, and Parliament Square where a new statue of Nelson Mandela was festooned with flowers. The man who spent 18 of his 27 years of imprisonment in Robben Island still had a big heart to forgive his enemies, “As I walked out the door toward the gate that would lead to my freedom, I knew if I didn't leave my bitterness and hatred behind, I'd still be in prison.”

MSF-NY wanted me to fly straight to New York for debriefing but I flew back to Boston instead. Having packed no winter clothes on my way to Malawi, I needed to stop at home for some warm clothing. There was plenty of snow here, a stark contrast from hot but by now rainy Nsanje. The next day I took the Acela to New York passing bleak but crisp winter scenes of New England. By the end of the day I was exhausted but was elated to meet my son Charles in Manhattan for dinner and then to Penn Station to catch the train to Boston. I did not find the transition from Africa to US stressful, having shuttled back and forth between the two continents so many times, but I did recall when I first came back from Africa I thought the pace of life here was fast, people spoke way too rapidly and many of them were extremely large. However the transition from a temperature of 95 degree F to 15 told me that I needed my winter stuff.

Home

Charles and Me at Penn Station, NY

As I run in snowy Belmont and Cambridge, I remember the children waiting for me in Nsanje along the dusty road in the morning. During my last run they all said,”Tionana Mwawa” (see you tomorrow). I never did say good-bye to them.