It's Day 3 of a 3-Day truce between fighting tribes here in our city. Yesterday, John and I were given the "all clear" by our local friends to walk through town and teach an English class. As we were walking along the main road, sirens began blaring and a long procession of SUVs with dark-tinted windows passed, followed by armored vehicles with military personnel brimming over.
The "parade" lasted only a few seconds but the vibe on the street definitely changed. Citizens paused to see where the caravan went. They began talking to one another. We weren't sure what to do next. I looked at John and said, "Well…what do you think?" No one was scurrying so we took that as a good sign. We proceeded to our appointment without incident.
After our class, one of our friends asked if we had phone service. We checked and did not. We had different carriers so we wondered it if were a city-wide problem. It was. We discovered later that the government had shut down the phones for a 2-hour period as the military made a sweep through particular neighborhoods for suspects and weapons (at least that's the word on the street and Twitter).
Phone service was restored and nothing really seemed to come of the earlier events. Life continued on. Our friend, Musa*, is planning a boat trip with Australians today. I asked if they were concerned about the security situation here. He laughed and said, "No. Australians and New Zealanders never care about that. They come anyway." I guess Crocodile Dundee mentality runs deep there.
I'm not sure how the next few days will progress with the exception that in all this Jesus sees and knows the hearts of every person. We are encouraging our local friends and I continue to make plans for our daughter's upcoming college graduation and soon-following wedding. A wonderful friend of mine wrote and said, "Can you imagine the stories you'll have to tell your grandchildren from this time?"
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*Not his real name.
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