Goodbye, JImbo...

Here I am!

Just in case anyone was wondering if I had died.

I haven’t. And I don’t plan to.

My father left yesterday morning—his crazy African vacation came to a rather uneventful end, as far as I know. (And, honestly, I don’ t know much; I haven’t heard from him.)

((Calling now, to fulfill my daughterly duties.))

(((No answer. No news is good news. I know the plane landed. We’ll assume everything is fine. Anyway…)))

It was sad to see him go, but I think we were both ready. He missed his wife (and his television?); I was worn out from a week of “hosting,” so to speak. His visit itself was a bit bittersweet—it’s hard for me to swallow that my father was so close to where I actually minister, so close to the people I love and live with, and he didn’t see the place or meet my friends. On a whim, I checked into going in the Sudan, and God worked out all the details. It was all set, but a late-night email derailed the whole glorious thing.

Mom tells people it was “common sense” that prevailed in the situation, that my dad’s smarts outweighed the attempts of his “persuasive—but not always bright—daughter.” I think we all know it was age and rank that triumphed; experience (mine, since I live and work in Sudan) was disregarded. Oh, well… maybe someday. Or never. I suppose I have to be fine with it either way.

Anyway, I think we enjoyed some of the finest that Euro-Africa had to offer, and I think my dad had fun. I did. We spent a week on safari, then a few days down on the coast. Dad was surprisingly positive and patient; I couldn’t believe it. He really prepared himself for things well. He even pulled the “This is Africa” line on me once.

Here’s some pictures. I’m sure he’ll put more up on JamboJimbo when he gets home.

The classic Jimbo-on-Safari look. Well done.

This lion was ginormous. A male—I suppose we were lucky. He was more interesting when he put his head up, but still very ginormous even when he was chillaxing.

Here’s us, at the coast. We asked Kim to come along a while back—I foresaw that a week alone with just my dad would be long enough—but she declined. But then I think she took pity on me because of the crushed Sudan dream, so she came along. She and my dad got along really well, sparing all the time. It was fun.

The beautiful Indian ocean.

On the last day, we rented two quads and had a guide take us through some of the surrounding village area. The guide’s motorbike pooped out soon after we started our ride, so he had to hop on my dad’s single four-wheeler. Oh, gosh, it was funny, watching Dad get off that thing. He was quite the trooper—he and KP both. They both were quite sore. Good times.