Exit Juba, stage right...

In front of me, night over the Indian Ocean. Ships-lights shining on the horizon, a calm-ish ocean with gentle rollers breaking over my feet. Not 36 hours out of Juba, and this is the reward: A beach, warm water up to my shins, a double of something potent in my hand, and Sudan left in my wake…

Behind me: 150 German tourists experiencing Africa by means of faux Kenyan dancers by the poolside…

Maybe if I stare out over the ocean for long enough, they’ll go away…

Not the case.

Gratefully, by the time the Germans started in on their set of “The Rat Pack performed at half speed, so as to accommodate pensioners” I was sufficiently mesmerized by the ocean, that I managed to ignore them.

I’m on the south end of the Kenyan coast of Mombasa

I left Juba yesterday (as I write this), at the tail end of a solid 4 day farewell with the friends I’ve made these past 6 months. A very surreal thing, leaving Juba. Blood Sweat and – well, more sweat, to be honest, for the past half year, and then an hour and a half later, I’m in Nairobi on the way to Denmark via Mombasa. Very odd. Yesterday there was a small but very real risk of war breaking out around me, and today I’m in a position to raise a stink if there isn’t enough lime in my Gin and Tonic. Not that I would, blinded as I am by the seemingly endless supply of tonic (for some reason, the most expensive liquid in Juba isn’t plasma, IV fluid, nor purified water – no, it’s tonic water…). It’s great. I’ll be here for another 36 hours, mentally de-toxing from Sudan(I didn’t know how tired I was, before I had left. Then it hit…) and getting ready to go home. The MBA is a sure thing now, and it’ll probably be 2 years before I return to Africa. I’m psyched by the thought of going back to school, but Africa has left a mark.

I’ll be back.

(Stay tuned – Jubajoe is not quite done yet. I travel to Maine immediately upon getting back to Denmark. I suspect the change from 40 degrees to -20 will bring about some interesting tales..)