The housing facilities at the MAF compound in Juba have recently been upgraded and I’m grateful that there is a little time in the morning to take a tour. Things are so new, that I’m actually being shown round a building site that has signs of work-in-progress everywhere. I’m also introduced to many of the local staff who fill vital support roles in MAF’s operations. With a chance in the next 48 hours to visit two destinations where MAF is supporting missionary activities, Judith reminds me that I have an opportunity to directly experience a side of the work that most of this team will never witness. A sense of humility and ‘standing-upon-the shoulders-of-giants’ descends upon me.
Less than 24 hours after arriving at Juba’s airport, I’m soon back there for a flight with MAF to Malualkon, a remote destination in the country’s north. We’re bringing in the Ward family who serve with Cush for Christ and pilot Adrian Rose prays for a safe journey.
Before departing, Adrian also invites me to sit with him up at the front of the plane. In MAF terms, a seat in the cockpit is considered on par with an upgrade to first class. Strapping myself in, I can’t help but notice the dazzling array of buttons and dials just in front of me. The temptation to start pushing random ones is overwhelming, but I discipline myself. The noise factor of flying with MAF remains though and Adrian passes me a chunky headphone set. Putting it in place, once again I find myself staring at the control panel, wondering if one of them will tune me into Classic FM.
Having not been able to hear anyone else during the earlier MAF flight, suddenly I can hear Adrian, Juba control tower and anyone else who cares to use the local aviation airwaves. The amount of chatter going back and forward between the planes that are coming and going is overwhelming. Fortunately things get quieter as we get airborne.
A short while later, Adrian informs me that we are likely to encounter some “weather” during the two-hour journey. It’s a somewhat strange statement, since his comment also leaves open the possibility that we may not experience any weather. What does a weather-less day involve I wonder? As the plane starts vibrating and shuddering, I soon come to understand that ‘weather’ is pilot-speak for rain and storm clouds. ‘Weather’ at 10,000 feet also has a particularly unpleasant smell about it, until Adrian explains that this has been caused by one of the Ward children vomiting into the black bag that is provided.
The arrival in Malualkon is a welcome one, both for those on board and the community that has come out en masse to greet us. We unload the Wards’ packages and depart the airstrip for Cush for Christ’s base. The half-dozen international staff are involved in a radio ministry there as well as offering discipleship courses for church leaders. They are also living a traditional missionary lifestyle, in shelters they have built themselves using local material (and a few resources flown in by MAF). Night descends as we eat together, and I talk with the team about how God is using their ministry. The tales are inspiring in many ways, but we have to return to Juba at first light, so we call it a night and I fall asleep staring at the incredible amount of stars that God has created.
