Packing for Sudan

I am a pastor preparing for a mission trip to Southern Sudan, to build a covenant relationship between the two branches of the Episcopal Church.

I meet my four companions. One is an archivist from Jefferson City, one a St. Louis carpenter, one a church administrator, and the fourth is our committee chair and a veteran missioner. Job one is to build friendship bridges from our world to their world. But from where I sit, they are still strangers.

What gets my attention are the packing lists. We have several. One is a wish list from our missioner, a nurse. Another lists our group's first-aid needs. Then there are personal items, gear and clothing. It's like packing for a deep wilderness trip, but in rolling suitcases, not backpacks. Assembling everything proves a formidable task, requiring visits to camping outlets, obscure Web sites for safari-type gear and countless trips to the drug store.

I have difficulty picturing our destination, Lui. It is not on the map.

Chasing down the essentials for our trip does provide me with an imaginative entry into what I am about to experience. We can bring one personal item, one carry-on pack and two checked bags. One of my bags is filled with group gifts to our missioner. After packing, I fill up the spaces with bottled water, trail mix and nutrition bars. Water is scarce and even when it can be found, it is risky. Food supplies are meager and dwindling rapidly. A drought has wiped out 75 percent of the first local crop in 22 years.

It is hard for anyone to get calories. The doctors at the mission hospital report that 95 percent of the children are malnourished. We need long-sleeved loose shirts and trousers for sun protection. Lui is five degrees from the equator, and its temperature runs 100-plus in the shade.

I also pack lights. The only light bulbs in Lui run off the hospital generator. We pack our Book of Common Prayer. These people have never had more than a handful of prayer books. And we pack our Bibles. The Moru Episcopalians trust the authority of the Bible. I will be going as the team's teacher and am told these Sudanese are more starved for learning than food.

They believe education and faith are the two keys to their promised land. The evangelical strategy of the late 19th and early 20th century was surprisingly holistic: bring education and health care, and people will ask to know whom you serve. I wonder if this would work in Missouri.

All of the schools are Episcopal in this region. And all of them were closed by the civil war. Now there are great plans for more schools and even for a new theological college.

Education is the main incentive for refugees to return to their homeland. I pack notebooks, pens and chalk. School supplies are rare and church-offering baskets are blessed when someone tosses in a pen or a pencil.

Now I am packed up and loaded down. Only about 10 of my allotted 140 pounds is personal clothing. Another 10 pounds is for health and hygiene. We will be so far from our American world of consumerism that we will not even need Sudanese money. I pray I am ready for this alternative world, 9,000 air miles and 50 travel hours from Cape Girardeau County.

I suspect I am quite unprepared for the emerging world of central Africa!

The Rev. Bob Towner is pastor at Christ Episcopal Church in Cape Girardeau.