Today, John and I walked back to the airport. The walk that had seemed long on the way here seemed so short now. John and I shook hands and said goodbye. I was sad to go, because I had had so much fun with John in Africa. As I left, John handed me a box, and when I looked inside, I saw one of the wood bikes. He said "I know you won't use it much in California, but you can have it to remember the time you had here."
"Thank you so much," I said. I waved as I left. I had learned so many things and had such a fun time. When When I got home though, I bought a lot of salsa, chips, and tortillas and sent them to John in Sudan. I hope he enjoys them!
John and I went on a tour today. We ate some bread for breakfast and then walked around the village. A lot of kids were walking around, riding rusty old bikes, and lined up in front of shabby schoolhouses. A few kids were riding home-made wooden bikes. They zipped right past us, laughing and playing. John and I laughed and chased after them.
We caught them at a corner where they were catching their breath. Near them was a little boy who was selling two similar bikes. John and I bought them and then spent the rest of the morning cruising down hills. We were having a lot of fun, but I still wanted to see more of the village. We left the bikes back at John's house, then we went back to the market. We met a lot of people and I bought a lot of food to bring home and share with my family.
I found something in the market that was similar to a tortilla, which gave me an idea. I asked John and his wife if they would like to try something that we eat in California, and they said yes. I began with warming the chicken over their fire stove, and then I rolled it up in the "tortilla." I added some chopped up vegetables that I had found in the market. Finally, I baked some of the "African tortillas" into chips and served everything with a bowl of my makeshift salsa. We sat down and ate our African-style burritos. They were delicious. I showed John how to dip the tortilla chips in the salsa. John and Martha thought that it was delicious, too.
Today we got up and dressed by 7:00. John was taking us on a safari to see the wild part of Africa. We went outside and saw a mud-splattered jeep spray painted in camouflage colors.
We loaded into the jeep, which had no seat belts, windows, or doors. Then we set off down a dirt road heading towards the jungle.
It wasn't long before we saw our first animals. A troop of baboons walked by the car and hissed at us. They acted very hostile and we didn't get too close.
We traveled through the jungle and in the savanna, too. We saw lions, leopards, cheetahs, monkeys, antelopes, wild dogs, giraffes, zebras, and my favorite, elephants. We then came to a shady spot by a river. We saw water buffaloes drinking, and being wary of the giant crocodiles that lurked in the muddy water like floating logs. We saw a lot of hippos lumbering around in the shadows, and we even saw a shark swim up the river! John and I pulled out our lunch and ate it in the jeep.
After we were done seeing the animals, We went 4-wheel-driving. As our guide maneuvered at full speed around potholes and rocks, going down canyons and splashing through puddles, John and I bounced around in the back laughing and holding on to the seats. It was so fun. The guide even let me drive.
We had so much fun, and we got home in time for dinner, which was leftovers from the night before.
I had been staring out the window for 10,12,15 hours. It was nighttime, and I was on a plane to Duk County in South Sudan to visit John Bul Dau, one of the Lost Boys of Sudan. Unable to sleep, I watched the lights of America grow and fade away, then grow and fade again. Then lights seized to exist as we passed over the Atlantic Ocean, except for little boats like glowing ants on a dark blue canvas. Then I saw lights again, the lights of Africa. this time they were not as bright. Eventually, those too faded away as I drifted off to sleep.
I woke up to overwhelming senses. I smelled lots of animals and people, and fresh food like bread, meat, and something else that I later learned was called kofta. I head children yelling to their friends, merchants advertising their products, and livestock being herded trough the streets. As I stepped outside, a wave of hot, muggy air hit me. Flies buzzed around my sweaty face. The second I set foot on African ground, Thousands of black hands reached out, begging for money or food and feeling the new white person. I handed out a few leftover bars from the plane ride. After a while, when the people calmed down, I got to know them better. They were extremely kind and curious. The little kids loved to walk with me and ask me questions in their language that I didn't know how to answer. They clapped and laughed and acted very happy. When I came out of the seemingly endless process of getting my passport checked and waiting for the luggage, I walked outside and saw a man holding a cardboard sign that said:
I went up to John and introduced myself. He was so happy to have a visitor that he could take on a tour of the town. We shook hands and started off towards his house. It turned out that his house was a few miles away, so it took about an hour to walk. John walked at a very brisk pace,and it was hard to keep up with him. He was very tall and strong, and I figured that he had walked this route many times.
On the way home, we stopped at the Sudanese equivalent to the Farmer's Market. Tables and booths were set up and down the streets, marketing products from clothes to pigs. African men and women bustled about, buying the food they needed for dinner. John bought some chicken meat, bread, and kofta. We went home and had an early dinner at 4:00, which was cooked by John's wife, Martha. The chicken soup and bread was good, but what I really liked was the kofta, which was like a meatball.
When we were done with dinner, we went to see the Sudanese rapper Lam Tungwar, who was playing live. We went to his concert, and it was amazing to be so immersed in the sudanese culture. People jumped around, singing and dancing, and we stayed up past midnight. I thought that Lam was very talented, and I thought that he was better than a lot of American musicians. After the concert, I got to meet Lam and talk to him. I became more interested with every word he spoke as his inspiring story unraveled. At age 7, Lam was forced to be a child soldier in the Southern Sudan Military. He dropped his gun and fled into Kenya, he pursued a career in music to help deal with his horrible experiences. He has been on tour and has won awards such as a designation as a messenger of peace.
