Which continent, exactly?

This blog's title isn't in reference to actual continents (I've now been to four), but is rather drawn from "The Third and Final Continent," a stunning short story by Jhumpa Lahiri, from her collection, The Interpreter of Maladies. In particular, I'm inspired by the following quote that summarizes the attitude I try to carry with me through life and on my travels

I am not the only person to seek his fortune far from home, and certainly I am not the first. Still there are times I am bewildered by each mile I have traveled, each meal I have eaten, each person I have known, each room in which I have slept. As ordinary as it all appears, there are times when it is beyond my imagination.

I love this. It calls on us to consider the tiny details of our experiences, both one-by-one, and in the aggregate, and to maintain a sense of wonder even about the seemingly mundane things that are the building blocks of our lives, and often, the glue that binds us to our traveling companions.

This blog began as a chronicle of my study abroad experience in Cairo in Spring 2008, and continued last year while volunteering in Geneva, and South Sudan with a wonderful organization, VIDES.

Now in graduate school, I'm returning to the Continent this summer while interning in New Delhi, India.

Please enjoy, inquire, and learn.

Sunday, July 21, 2013

South Sudan in Pictures, Part 3: Ordination Edition

 Chairs lined up waiting for people to come for the ordination of a new priest. I thought they looked really cool, both “before,” and “after,” when the community filled nearly every last one.  



Said new priest, from Vietnam and the bishop who ordained him, join in a traditional dance complete with men wearing ostrich feather headdresses.



A boy collecting plastic bottles in the White Nile floats on a bag of bottles/impromptu raft


Cows that interrupted our trip home. . . The long horns indicate that they were males, and, I'm told, the preponderance of males, means they were probably headed for the butcher rather than going to be someone’s bride price


Before the deluge: the second-biggest storm since I’ve been here.


Minou the cat, Sr. Celestina, a parish altarboy, and Ellie, an Italian volunteer, chat while sorting out the flags that lined the road during the ordination


There’s hope yet. . . my first Juba rainbow.


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