For the third time now in six months I am taking the hop across the Atlantic and south to Nairobi. This time its back to Southern Sudan. MCC has ask me to give some more support for the Sudan office based in Juba.
So, one third of the way through the 40 hour trip, I sit at a coffee shop sipping my very expensive Segafredo Zanetti coffee. The characteristic red cups fit in well with the functional Amsterdam airport. Bright yellow signs direct at the jet lagged traveler toward their new gate while young security men and women patrol the halls with their Uzi sub-machine guns slung from their hips.
The violence in Europe and North America is so contained, controlled and ordered. We are continually reminded of the ‘threat’ level. We have strict rules about what we can and can’t do. Jokes, liquids in large quantities and even our shoes are all suspect. Violence itself, the killer of our bodies has a brother named fear which also strangles the life out of our being.