Bor in My Mind

I couldn’t quite place in a right sense what Bor would look like when I get there. My flight time was nearing and the excitement rose to much higher level. My prospects of seeing home was becoming a reality. And when Joseph came to tell me I would be late for my flight, I replied “late!” Joseph is a resident coordinator here at VEGA-Sudan’s office. I was eating a very delicious lunch at times. But going home was irreplaceable. I hurriedly rushed back to my room to get my luggage (I later on discovered that I left my malaria’s medication behind in this process). My driver was waiting in the driveway. We loaded the luggage onto the car and pulled away from the gate to the bumpy road. We drove passed the airport. I began to wonder about where we were going. I was tempted to direct him, but I knew he had driven to the Juba’s airport a thousand times, if not a million times. At the same time, prospects of missing my flight were looming: I was convinced, more then ever, that I would be late for Bor’s flight. Apparently, we were going to check for my flight’s time (something Joseph already did). After confirming the flight time, we then drop back to the airport. I checked in at the desk placed next to the main door of the only modern looking building at the Juba International Airport. This turned out to be a charter plane and passengers are only allowed up to 30 lbs to bring on board. My luggage weighed twice as much. I though it works like the US airlines' policies. I offered to pay for whatever extra pounds. But the airport’s attendant yelled, “It’s not about paying. It’s about your own safety!” I didn’t know what to do after that. I contemplated between leaving behind either my bag for my wearing clothes or the gifts bag. But how would I explain to the people when I tell them I left their gifts because some airlines’ regulations prevented me from bringing them? It was not possible either to leave my clothing behind for almost two weeks. I finally gave in and offered to leave the gifts behind. But they gave in and let me go. One of these workers told me to sit in a waiting room. My flight won’t board for another 20 minutes. I got even more anxious as condition for having missed my plane loomed bigger. I got restless. I went to ask the other passengers who were sitting in the waiting area to see if they were going to Bor. The guy said “yes” and I was relieved of all the worries that were going through my mind. And in the next few minutes, we took off. The plane flew at a balance. It was not too low or too high such that we followed the Nile as it meanders northward. It looks absolutely gorgeous! I was convinced I would spot a small town along this route: the Bor Town. I began to spot what looked like cattle camps as we got closer to the Bor area. In fact, I was now flying in the air above the soil I was born on. In the next few minutes, our plane started to descend and landed on a red small strip. There was no air traffic control tower: Bor was at its very poor condition at best. The reality was shocking. But the most important thing in my mind was that I got back home in more than 20 years. No kidding! I said, “more than 20 years”.