Dear Friends:	

	I am safely back in Renk, having made the long journey with very few  
problems. All of the supplies that were given to me made it through  
customs without even a blink, which is almost unheard of for me in my  
travels. Usually, one or two things have to be "sacrificed" to get me  
across the border.
	The reaction at immigration was quite interesting: When I presented  
my passport and papers, the man was most surprised to hear me  
speaking Arabic, but didn't blink too much. He checked my visa and  
was about to approve my entry when he suddenly realized I was going  
to Renk, at which point he exclaimed, in English, "Oh my God!" I  
asked, in Arabic, if anything was wrong, at which point we commenced  
a conversation about going to Renk. When I told him I live there, he  
was shocked. So was the man in the next immigration booth. Then they  
made some sly comments about stupid foreigners (thinking, I believe,  
that I couldn't understand them), and wondering why I would go to  
such an "awful" place. I simply smiled. The first thing I heard  
outside the airport, at 5 a.m., was the morning call to prayer.  
That's how I knew I was back to this "home."
	We spent Monday in Khartoum. Bishop Daniel came over to greet me  
before heading off to Juba for a few weeks. Our talk was good, I  
think. He again reiterated that the security situation in the border  
area is very, very bad, and said that was the reason I couldn't be  
here full-time. He then said that Joseph and I should create a plan  
that would bring me back to Renk for limited periods. Bishop Daniel  
was not keen on the idea of setting up a connection with any seminary  
out of the country yet -- says our seminary is too limited right now.  
Then he talked about me possibly working in another seminary in this  
country, and that possibly, I could work elsewhere and visit Renk on  
occasion to teach. In other words, he is not shutting the door to my  
return -- simply uncertain of the future.
	Our arrival in Renk this morning (2:30 a.m.) was quiet, although we  
did get to see Mother Grace Isaiah. That reunion, brief though it  
was, was as joyful as all others. To be welcomed home with such joy  
is almost overwhelming, and makes it worth it to come back in and of  
itself. Several of the children and I recommenced our game of  
labeling me "khawaja," (white person), to which my reply is, "No, I  
am a Sudani." As usual, it brought great grins to many faces.
	Tomorrow, we resume classes -- I'll be teaching a Liturgy Practicum  
with a strong Theology component until Andrew, the Duke student who  
is here for another two weeks, goes back to the States. When he  
leaves, I will be taking over his Greek class, and will teach my  
Theology class. There is a problem with the computers here, so the  
computer class I was asked to teach might have to wait until another  
time.
	Father Joseph is on his way to Cairo for his US visa. He hopes to be  
back in Sudan on 16 August, come to Renk to work with  me on several  
projects, and then head to the States on 22 August. There is a chance  
I will have to travel back with him -- we still don't know for sure  
how long I will be able to stay.
	But right now, being here is simply enough.
	The water situation is dire -- the White Nile is dark brown with  
silt, and when it flows from the pipes, it looks like milk chocolate.  
It is filled with diseases as well -- already I have treated one of  
the priest for a massive infection on his leg that he got from  
walking in the water while pushing to boat out. I believe that the  
Neosporin will do the trick, although cleaning the wound was, I know,  
quite painful for him. But Isaac, to whom I gave the nickname "Real  
Dinka" was quite good about the whole thing. Tomorrow, I will have  
more medical issues with folks here, who trust in Neosporin greatly  
and know that I have supplies to help them. We are having to buy all  
of our water, even for cooking and bathing, that has been "purified"  
somewhat. It's not suitable for drinking, and all of my water  
filtration equipment is, for the moment, missing. I'm hoping we can  
find all of it in the next few days. Otherwise, we are waiting for  
more rain -- all three rain barrels were completely empty when we got  
back, because there has been no rain for four days. At some point,  
the goal is get a bath without having to used purchased drinking  
water all the time; tonight, there will be no option.
	A favor to ask of any who might reply: PLEASE cut off my message to  
you, which will save on the internet bill. I pay for all incoming  
data ... thank you for keeping my expenses down.
	And please to keep praying for Sudan: The situation is still  
uncertain, and divisions are flaring up everywhere. We need prayers,  
or there will be no peace.
	Blessings and peace to all,
	Lauren