June 9, 2007 -- Jennifer really misses her older sister, Alice, 18. I thought all of her brothers and sisters would be going to Gulu from Kitgum on Thursday when we arrived, to have a reunion with Jennife. But only Jennifer's mom, one sister and a cousin who lives with them came. Jennifer had yet to see Alice, and her brothers Okeny, 12, and Kalokwera 6. Jennifer used my mobile phone to call Alice (a nearby friend of Alice who has a phone is the go-between) while we were meeting yesterday with Sister Pauline. She didn't just talk to Alice over the phone, she pined for her big sister over the phone. Since she starts classes on Monday, I figured we should make a quick trip today to Kitgum -- a 90-minute drive away on a dirt road -- so Jennifer could see the rest of her family.
The drive was easy. We stopped to talk to one woman who was farming near the roadside, otherwise it was a straight trip. Jennifer has never been to the village where her family now lives. After I started met Jennifer in a nearby displaced people's camp and started trying to get her to the United States, I enlisted the help of Abitimo Odongkara, owner of a school in Gulu and a house in Philadelphia where much of her family lives. After we got Jennifer to Philadelphia, Abitimo took it upon herself to move the rest of her family out of the filthy, small and overcrowded camp where they lived, to a nearby village with more spacious houses and better sanitary facilities.
Jennifer couldn't wait to see Alice. She ran from the minivan inside the thatched-grass roof hut and the two sisters hugged, squealed, and jumped up and down in the dim light. Jennifer then said hi to Kalokwera and Okeny and hugged them. But she really wanted to see Alice's son, Michael, who was born while Jennifer was away. The baby was with a neighbor, so about 20 minutes -- long minutes to Jennifer -- passed before she met her tiny nephew. I didn't realize Jennifer was so baby-crazy, but she is, and played nonstop with Michael.
The day passed with visitors greeting Jennifer and bottles of black cherry soda being bought to celebrate. The men sat outside; women inside. Initially, only men got the soda. I bought the round for the women. There was singing and dancing to traditional Acholi songs. About seven women danced and sang inside the family's hut as I taped them. Jennifer finally got coaxed into joining them.
Who I call American Jennifer emerged only once, when she tried to tell Alice the best way to be a mother. I took her aside and reminded her that Alice was the better expert on mothering since Alice was a mother. We had hoped to leave by about 4 p.m. to get back to Gulu before nightfall, but Jennifer wanted to eat first, and I wanted to talk to Regina some more. We ended up leaving about 5 p.m., with Ayelo the driver speeding along bumpy, muddy roads at a frightening speed. We made it home tired but alive at about 7 p.m.
