I felt very at home during our two weeks in South Sudan. I was keenly aware that we all live under the same sky, and the same sun and moon shine down on us, wherever we live. I was especially moved to realize that children are children, all over the world. One day, sitting outside in our compound, I heard village children playing. If I closed my eyes I could have been on my back porch, hearing neighborhood children laughing, yelling and playing.
But time had begun to hang on me a bit, I missed my family, and I was ready to go home. We traveled back to Juba and the delights of a shower with running water, and air conditioning. A cold beer also helped. We had re-entered civilization and were soon heading home.
The trip home took 27 hours, and even longer for me to re-adjust. I took a hot shower immediately. I slept deeply the first night. But I didn’t know how to make sense of my trip. I also brought with me some kind of stomach distress, which made the re-entry a bit more difficult.
I thought often about the women in South Sudan – mothers like myself—and thought about how hard their lives are, even with access to water. They still walk for water, although those in villages with wells get to carry clean water home for their families. Some children have access to school, but not the education that we are so fortunate to have. Health improves, but people can still get malaria fairly easily. One of our country directors and one of our cooks had malaria while we were there. Life improves, but it is still a challenge in South Sudan.
After about a week back home I started to feel like myself again. After about two weeks I gained a deeper appreciation of our work. Water for South Sudan does transform lives. But life in the newest country on earth will not drastically change overnight, or this year, or decade. Change will come slowly. I am so proud of our work, and the thousands of supporters who enable it, helping to water the seeds of change in South Sudan. And we’re doing it, one drop at a time.