Chapter 388

We had played volleyball for an hour. I had forgotten just how much fun it could be with a group who wanted to keep the volleys going as well as score points. Some of the ladies had brought and were playing in bikinis or sport bras and gym shorts like me.

I guess they had Googled the area and found out we were not that far from Lake Victoria. When things settled down I am sure they intended to check it out.

We had a good game going when I noticed I had guests; Ambassador Fauntroy, his wife and three daughters who were all in their teens.

Rick had brought them through the building with a bucket of bottled water covered with ice. We took a break for the cold water.

Agatha was 15, Casey was 16, and Caroline was 17.

“That looks like fun,” Caroline replied.

“It is. Would you like to try a game? I have extra gym shorts; I’m sure they will fit. I have enough for the three of you if you like,” I said.

With the three of them in shorts and the water break over, the girls taught them the game and rules while I sat off-side with Shaun and Camilla and watched.

Shaun had brought me a copy of the British daily paper that he received. They had a front page article on the Doctors without Borders and our emergency assistance flight. It was a good write-up and spread the praise around. The article was taken from the ZNN video and put to paper.

While his daughters played, I picked his brain and experiences related to the doctors. I found out that Nimule had grown from a thousand to five thousand refugees in a matter of weeks at the height of the fighting in South Sudan. The lull in fighting had encouraged some to go home and the camp was now down to three thousand.

Those three thousand were the weakest, unable to travel from starvation or sickness or they realized that the war was far from over and there was nothing to go back to.

I found out that the South African well company that put in the well at Nimule had been ambushed in Sudan, all the equipment destroyed and employees killed.

The warring parties were operating with the scorched earth mentality; it was the same as General Sherman with his march to Atlanta in the Civil War. Sherman took what he needed to maintain the march and burned everything left. Burning crops and even killing all the farm animals to deny food, shelter and mobility and the ability to survive for civilians and soldiers alike.

That meant that those who left the camp were returning home to nothing but starvation with what little they had and that would be stolen by fighters from both sides along the way.

Those who survived would try to return to the camp; a vicious cycle that was repeated often in the African civil wars. Civilians always ended up with the worst end of the deal. Rumors often fueled the exodus, sometimes started by residents of the camp thinking if people left, there would be more for them.

Other times the rumors were started by the warring parties to get a new group of gullible people traveling with food and water. All this was more information than I needed to know for staying here just six weeks.

The rest of the day was quiet; no more visitors, the men played volleyball while we ladies manned the security stations. Sunday was even more laid back. I spent three hours on VCATS with the girls wishing I was there to hold the boys.

On Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday I had more official visitors and I made official visits to the remaining embassies where I needed to present my credentials.

On Wednesday there was a joint news conference at Morton Field; the other two air freight companies made their big announcement. The county commissioners and the county new business agent made sure they had well prepared positive speeches this time.

They were patting each others back and high-fiving about more new jobs coming to the county, even though they had nothing to do with it.

I received an email from Frank, “I have been in conversations with my friends who you partied with, and I think you are mistaken about a previous statement that you made. Between them and the news reports from there, you are indeed a diplomat and a politician.”

True to his word Frank sent me folders - lots of folders - on everyone from every country that had an official representative here. They came over the secure communications link. All accept one.