Brought by the Holy Spirit

Born in Southern Sudan, Bol Ngor, left his home in Maker Aramthei to come to America in 2004. He left because a war in his country has been going on for 21 years. Ngor's life in the United States began in Los Angeles after a two-day flight from Egypt. "The trip was good," Ngor said. "We didn't sleep." Once he arrived to America, he had to adopt a lifestyle that was much different from the one he had in Sudan. Ngor's life in Sudan began peacefully, and his family was well off. His father was an elder, and he was a leader. "My father was rich," Ngor said. "We owned a lot of goats and cows." Ngor, along with his two sisters and his brother, enjoyed life before the arrival of the Maral Militia. In 1983, problems between Muslims and Christians had grown to encompass much of Sudan. The Maral Militia traveled by train, the railroad was near Ngor's house, and with the militia came nothing but devastation and heartache. "They took our cows, kidnapped the children, killed a lot of people and burned our houses," Ngor recalled. His father moved his family to another town, but peace and comfort were shortlived once they got there. It was only a year before the militia came again. "The Sudan People's Liberation Army organized groups to defend us," Ngor said. The militia, despite the resistance of the SPLA, burned their house and many others, forcing Ngor's family to move again. "We left with nothing," he said. Shortly after they moved, his brother ran away. He left so that he could join the SPLA, although the family didn't know that at the time. Ngor attempted to go to school in 1990, but the danger of being attacked limited when school could be conducted. "In the summer we don't have school, because the militia would come in the summertime," he said. While attending school, Ngor was taught English as well as catechism. "When I grew up with my family I was not a Christian because in Africa, we had traditional African religions," he said. Ngor's father again decided the situation in southern Sudan had become too dangerous and he needed to move his family again. "I remember in 1994, my father said the situation is not good enough for us to stay there," Ngor said. "It would be better to go to northern Sudan." His father also told him he still could go to school or he could get a job to support himself. The course that Ngor was about to take would lead him to some of his worst hardships but ultimately would bring him to the United States. Ngor was upset that he had to leave his family. However, his two cousins accompanied him on the journey. The trip to the town in northern Sudan took four days of walking as well as crossing a border. The trip across the border was difficult because the militia guarded the border. Ngor and his cousins were not fortunate enough to avoid the militia. "When we needed to cross that place to get to that town, we met the militia," he said. "They separate the girls and the boys. One militia took me and my two cousins to his house to work for him." In addition to hard labor and horrible treatment, Ngor and his cousins had a difficult time speaking to their captors because they spoke Arabic, and Ngor and his cousins spoke Dinka, their native language. So communication was difficult. "At that time, I didn't know Arabic," he said. The militia would not allow Ngor or his cousins to speak Dinka. "It was a very dangerous place to be, because they don't want us to talk in Dinka and they don't want us to communicate with others." The point was made even more apparent when two Dinka children who also worked on the farm never spoke to Ngor and his cousins. The three were forced to work on a farm from 6 a.m. to 6 p.m. "They treated us badly," he said. "They treated us like animals, not like people." While they were working on the farm one day, the plow broke and Ngor did not know how to fix it. It was a problem, because the only place to get a new plow was a nearby town. Ngor would have to travel with the man who was holding him and his cousins captive. "I told him to go to the town and to get the plow, and he said yes," Ngor said. "I went with him to the town, and I tried to remember how to get into the town, because in our country there are a lot of trees and bushes. The way is very narrow." Remembering his way into the town would become crucial for Ngor and his cousins. About a month later, the plow broke again and this time, Ngor was allowed to go to the town with one of his cousins. "I told my cousin you need to know how to get into the town, because we have to escape," Ngor said. When he and his cousin returned, it was about another month before it was time for a new plow. Ngor asked if his cousins could go and get the plow. He saw it as the opportunity for his cousins to escape. "That day, I told them that they don't need to come back, just go stay in the town," he said. A few hours after his cousins left, Ngor asked if he could use the bathroom. "Whenever you need to use the bathroom, you go in the forest somewhere," he said. When he was given permission to use the bathroom, he ran as fast as he could in the direction of the town. When he reached the town he found his cousins, and they all stayed with the local Dinka people. Soon after meeting with the Dinka people, Ngor and his cousins were introduced to Madim. "He took us to his house about one hour away from the town," Ngor said. "He told us we needed to move again because those people may come and search for us. He said, "If they find you, they can kill you." Madim gave Ngor and his cousins some traveling money. Their destination was the capital of Sudan, but in order to travel there, they needed a lot of money. Work was difficult to find for Ngor and his cousins. When they did find work, the money they made was just enough to keep them alive. "They hired us," Ngor said. "They don't have a lot of money - just enough to support." In 1996, Ngor finally found a stable job that would earn him enough money to travel. "I worked as a baker from 1996 to 2002," he said. That job brought the relief for which Ngor had been waiting. In 2003, however, pain and heartache would consume Ngor again. "My brother was killed in 2003," he said. "A land mine blew him up. It was very sad. I didn't see my brother for nine years. We didn't have a funeral, but we had a memorial service." About a year later, Ngor would travel north again, but this time he would be traveling to Egypt. When he reached Egypt, he had to travel to the Migration Office, where he would have to plead his case in order to reach the United States. "You can go there to apply, and they can set up the interview," Ngor said. "Then you explain why you left your country. If they feel your case is true, they can organize you to come here." When Ngor arrived in Los Angelesin 2004, the first thing he did was try to find work. Work was not the only thing on his mind, however. He often wondered about his family. "I didn't know at the time if my family was alive or not," Ngor said. He was in Los Angeles for only a short time before moving to Arizona. "I was in Arizona for nine months, and then I went to South Dakota for two years," he said. His next stop would be Amarillo. "I have lived in Amarillo for about two years," Ngor said. When he first moved to Amarillo, he worked at JBS Swift & Co. and then as the custodian at St. Joseph's Catholic Elementary School. While working for St. Joseph's, Ngor also became involved with the church and continues to be. He plays the piano and also is the choir director for the Sudanese community. Ruth Carrillo has been the parish secretary at St. Joseph's Catholic Church for 22 months and has known Ngor for 16 months. "Bol has formed a large group to be a part of the Sudanese choir," Carrillo said. "He is in charge of many events throughout the Diocese of Amarillo. "The community has enjoyed the musical presentations, as they lighten up the Mass," Carrillo said. "He is very compassionate and cares deeply about his faith. Bol loves to learn about different cultures as well as teach about his." Michelle Webb has been a member of St. Joseph' Catholic Church for 29 years and has known Ngor for about a year. "My favorite part of the Mass is when they sing during the consecration," she said. "I wish I could adequately explain how beautiful it is. I don't know exactly what they are saying, but when I hear the reverence in their perfectly harmonizing voices, a warm feeling washes over me that I know must be the Holy Spirit." "It was a little strange at first, because it was different than any music I had ever heard at Mass. However, it didn't take me long to get used to it, and now I leave Mass humming the music." Throughout Ngor's entire ordeal, there was something about his education, which he had to stop pursuing in the early 1990s, that bothered him deeply. "I was very sad because until now, I didn't have my GED or I didn't have my diploma," he said. Ngor has continued his education at Amarillo College, where he took English as a Second Language classes during fall 2008. He said he has enjoyed his AC classes and has met interesting people. "It is funny in the class, because sometimes we pronounce things like little children and the teacher laughs, and that makes us laugh too," he said. Ngor is working at Swift again. "I have been working at Swift for about four months now," he said. He also has been in contact with his family. "I talk to my family now," he said. "I finally found out that they were alive." He said he is excited about his upcoming fall vacation, when he will travel with friends he has made at St. Joseph's. "I am going to visit my home in November," he said. "I am going to see my family."