It wasn't much more than a speck. A tiny, white fleck in the wide blue sky above us. Our 4x4 lurched to a halt as Yahia, the driver, peered through the 10 inches of windscreen scraped clean of the mud that camouflaged the rest of the vehicle. Then we were off again, lurching over the rutted earth of North Darfur in a straight line for the nearest cover: nothing more than a spindly thorn tree.
We parked up with the car barely hidden by the branches and the three rebels and I sat down in the dust, shaded by other trees.
The Antonovs were out hunting. After guerrillas with the Justice and Equality Movement seized the town of Kornoi the government planes were out on the hunt every morning and evening. We had been spotted. Maybe it was a glint from the RPG launcher hanging from the wingmirror or the plume of dust that we kicked up pelting helter-skelter through the desert. Either way the Antonov high above was turning in tighter and tighter circles overhead.
Read the full blog post on Rob's blog.
From afar, responses are often sympathetic -- if not totally disconnected. But taking the proverbial "walk in the shoes" tends never to fail at invoking EMPATHY!