Comparisons, differences and a bit of cultural exchange!

A question I'm often asked is "How do you find Sudan?"  The flippant answer of course is "go to Egypt and keep heading south!"  It is so difficult to put into words exactly how I find Sudan.  To begin with I found it incredibly hot and just so different to anything I'd experienced before.  The people here are exceptionally warm and welcoming, even after 2 months in El Obeid, perfect strangers still call out to me in the street and want to shake my hand and welcome me to their country.  It is unlike other countries where people want to know you because they are eager to get you to part with your money - quite the opposite - I could probably count on one hand the number of times I've paid for a meal, bus or taxi fare since I've been here.  "Murrer ja" they tell me - "Next time"  but next time never seems to come!  When you visit friends in their homes you are constantly being told to eat, drink or take your rest.  So as you can imagine life is pretty tough!  All that eating and resting - I've never felt so relaxed!  

Life in Sudan  is very different to life back home in England - in so many ways.  I still can't make up my mind which is easiest or preferable as there are advantages and disadvantages to living in both countries.

Here people live together in extended families, often several people share one bedroom.  Despite this I'm still asked to go and stay with students and friends and treat their home as my home - which of course involves eating a lot and taking plenty of rest!  It's not uncommon when you visit people here to see a guest asleep or sprawled out on a bed!  There are always plenty of beds in every house - many people don't bother with sofa's or armchairs - they have 2 or 3 beautifully made beds which people sit or lie on depending on how tired they feel!  Could you imagine going over a friends house in England and stretching out and promptly falling asleep?  They would probably think you were most rude!  Here in Sudan they would be delighted that you had made yourself at home!  

Eating is a whole new experience in Sudan, firstly it is rare to see any cutlery and secondly, meals are "shared plate" where everyone literally digs in with their hands.  Someone gave me a tip about eating when I first arrived - never eat until you are full and then stop, as once you say you are full you will always be asked to have more, so you need to pace yourself!  Another thing to watch out for is when everyone else stops eating before you and insists that YOU finish the plate! I am always being told to "akli, akli!" which means "eat, eat!" as they tell me I eat slowly, which I do - as I worry that I'll appear too greedy and I like to give everyone else sharing the plate a chance!  Although I think eating quickly is a skill you quickly develop growing up in Sudan in a large family - either that or go hungry!  

Marriage is a major obsession here, not just amongst the young!  My students never tire of talking about it - I'm sure the Sudanese are the most romantic race on the planet - even the boys are very open about feelings and not afraid to show them or talk about them.  I'm constantly being asked if I would marry a Sudanese man or being told I must find myself a nice man and get married.  Telling them that I tried it once and it didn't work out for me, is futile - with family being central to everything here, they just can't understand why anyone would want to be single and live alone - so I am every bit the eccentric English woman in their eyes!

A couple of weeks ago I developed a burning pain in my right abdomen, which I tried ignoring and hoping it would go away.  Then after a particularly painful and restless night when I convinced myself I was dying and they would have to get some bolt cutters to break into my apartment and discover my corpse, I figured I should get it checked out.  So later that evening my friend Hassan came and collected me and took me off to the doctors, where despite a fairly packed waiting room I did not have to wait very long before seeing the doctor.  As well as friend and mentor, Hassan was there in capacity as linguistic expert who could translate Arabic to English and vice versa.  I needn't have worried - the doctor spoke clear and perfect English!  He asked about my drinking habits (Now, Now - he meant WATER!!)  He then said he'd like me to have a scan, at which point I thought we'd be leaving to go home and wait the 6 weeks or more for an appointment letter.  Not all all!  I was shown to another room to wait a couple of minutes and my ultra sound was performed there and then, within about 10 minutes I was back with the doctor discussing the results!  Everything was fine - I probably had a bit of inflammation due to changes in water, the water here is quite salty which can cause kidney problems.  Within an hour or so I was home, with the tablets the doctor had prescribed for a total cost of just under £30, which the University refunded me for later.   Of course, I don't know what it's like for the average Sudanese person who gets sick and needs treatment that maybe they can ill afford (no pun intended!)

Last week I was lucky enough to be invited to the Alliance Francias D'El Obeid, where they were receiving guest's from the French Embassy in Khartoum.  The Alliance is just a short walk from my apartment so I said that I would make my own way there.  Knowing the Sudanese approach to time keeping I was a little unsure of what time to get there, especially as I'd never been there before.  The event was to start around 530pm, so I figured if I left my house around that time I wouldn't be too late and maybe some people I know may have arrived by then.  

Over the last week or so I had rediscovered the brain cell that was storing my knowledge of the French language; quite by accident; when trying to communicate with a group of students studying French, who's English was about the same level as my Arabic - to my surprise we were able to carry out a reasonable conversation in French.  Spurred on by this discovery I was a little less daunted by the prospect of being amongst total strangers.  When I arrived I was greeted warmly and promptly forgot all Arabic and French as well as the good manners to attempt to introduce my self - I just shook hands and smiled a lot!  I was shown to a very comfy seat right on the front row.  There was no sign of Professor Haider or anyone else I vaguely recognised.  Still I had a nice comfy seat and refreshments were in front of me so I was quite happy.  After a short while a bus arrived with students from the university, some of whom sat behind me and chatted to me in a mixture of 3 languages.  As the people from the Alliance waited eagerly to greet their guests I suddenly had a panic - What if they think that I'm one of the French delegation, how embarrassing would that be? 

I was distracted from this thought, by activity on the stage in front of me.  It would appear that the festivities were about to start, and the delegation had not arrived yet!  The stage filled with men and women wearing African costumes who started performing a very lively and vigorous dance to the drum music that was being played.  It was the most "African" sight I'd seen since arriving in Sudan, and I didn't have my camera to capture the moment as I'd lent it to a friend!  The students behind me told me it was traditional Sudanese dancing.  The dancers had what looked like small pyramids made of tin cans tied to their calves, which sounded as if they were full of sand or beans, making an amazing sound as they danced frenetically.  Some of the men were dressed like witch doctors and were jumping around chanting.  It was quite a spectacle to behold!  And still the delegation had not arrived!

Eventually, much to my relief my colleague and the delegation from the French Embassy arrived and were duly introduced to myself and other people.  After a short time there was a repeat of the dancing, much to my relief - I would have hated to think they'd missed out!

The evening was rounded off by the Alliance "house band" (two guys on keyboards, a drummer and a singer) playing some music after which the delegation left and I found myself talking to a charming local teacher, who told me I was welcome at the Alliance any time as they have something happening most evenings.

Celebrations and Festivals

Having just spent a hectic Eid week of eating, visiting and partying, I can categorically say that the Sudanese sure know how to celebrate - and without the aid of alcohol!

The week before Eid (Eid al-Adha http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eid_al-Adha) I was lucky enough to attend a graduation ceremony at the University.  Apparently I had already missed at least one of the parties that the students hold to celebrate this momentous occasion, but I'd made it to the "main event."

Without wishing to offend anyone, graduation ceremonies are great occasions where fantastic achievements are celebrated but let's face it they can be a tad boring!  Especially for the proud relatives and friends who sit through seemingly endless speeches from Professors they have never heard of about things they don't care about - at least if you are a graduand you get to sit with your friends and gossip about the good old days at Uni, until you are herded into a long orderly queue ready to go onto the stage to collect your award.

So as I took my front row seat at the University of Kordofan, Faculty of Arts 2011 Graduation Ceremony, I prepared myself for the usual long speeches and even longer lists of names that would be even more tedious as I wouldn't understand any of it!  Thankfully I couldn't have been more wrong!

My colleagues formed an orderly line up beneath the stage, which was well lit with a large sound and video system.  Music was playing, names were read out and the students made their way, in their own time, complete with entourage of family and friends to collect their awards, stopping on the way to be congratulated, introduce their family to their teachers and pose for photo's to mark the occasion.  Relatives and friends were cheering and trilling and fireworks were going off everywhere.  There were a few speeches, but they were not overly long and they were appropriately in Arabic, French and English, congratulating the graduates of each language, to which some students responded by taking the microphone and thanking their lecturers.

Much to my embarrassment there was even a small tribute to me for joining the team at the University!  There were no orderly queues and the crowd were spilling in front of the stage completely obscuring my view, much to the annoyance of the "Graduation Committee" students who were trying hard to keep them under control.  "It's no good, they can't be controlled, they won't listen," one of them told me.  For me it was exactly the sheer organised chaos and excitement combined with the contrast to a "Traditional English Graduation" that made it so thoroughly entertaining!  These students had worked hard for 4-5 years, and families had supported them and made sacrifices to keep them at University - they were all very proud and they were showing it!  Whole families were there, some of whom had travelled miles, none of this "two tickets per graduand" nonsense that we have back in the UK.  Once the "formal" part of the ceremony had been completed,  one of Sudan's popular singers took to the stage and all the students were cheering, dancing and singing and throwing each other up in the air.  It was at this point that myself and my colleagues made a dignified exit and left them to enjoy the rest of their evening!

On the last day of term before Eid, my friends and colleagues Majid, Arsen and I  stopped off on the way home to buy a sheep - like you do!  Once the beast had been selected; on the grounds of size and condition of the tail, state of it's coat etc, they did no more than load it into the boot of the car!  Half way home it made a desperate bid for freedom and nearly escaped!  I sat in the front of the car in hysterics whilst Majid and Arsen wrestled with the sheep to get it back into the boot; resisting the urge to get out and take pictures.

The next day Majid picked me up and took me to his house to have henna applied to my hands and feet, which is a tradition for married ladies in Sudan.  I also had my hair braided and his wife showed me how to dress myself in the beautiful green tobe that Majid had given me earlier.  All I needed to do now was get the right shoes and skirt to wear with it!  So the next day I ventured to the market alone to shop.  Luckily I ran into my colleague Elzain, who was out shopping with his wife and daughter and they helped me pick out some "ship ships" (leather flip flop type sandals) that would show my henna off in all it's glory!  After that various strangers took me all around the Souk helping me to find the perfect skirt at the right price.

Sunday November 6th was the first day of Eid.  Majid arrived at 9am to take me to his house to enjoy the celebration with his family.  By now my transformation into a Sudanese lady was complete - I was wearing my tobe (all be it badly!)  On the way we saw men in their traditional dress of "jalabia's  and emmas" (white tunics and turbans), coming out of the mosque, drumming and marching down the street.  Everyone was stopping and greeting each other, smiling broadly, children were wearing their best clothes.  It was a wonderful atmosphere of happiness and celebration.  Neighbours stopped us in the street on their way to visit each others houses.

Once we got to the house I surprised myself by sitting and watching while Majid's brother, Adam, slaughtered, skinned and gutted the sheep without me fainting or being sick!  We then enjoyed a hearty breakfast; complete with offal; cooked in the traditional way over charcoal, before heading out to visit some of our colleagues in their homes after being re-dressed properly in my tobe!

The Sudanese ladies look so elegant in their tobes and wear them so effortlessly - whereas I struggled to get mine on properly and every time I moved, it moved - consequently at each home we visited I had to be re-dressed by the lady of the house before we could move on to the next one!  It was worth the effort though, as my colleagues and their families were thrilled to see the transformation from English to Sudanese lady!  Everyone was telling me I looked beautiful - though to me I just looked like an English woman wrapped (badly!) in a large piece of fabric!

On the second day of Eid, we visited Arsen and had breakfast with his family and on the third day (which is the last day of slaughtering) we had breakfast at the Vice Chancellor's office at the University.  I did not think it humanly possible to eat so much meat in such a short time!  Although I couldn't help but wonder how my two vegetarian colleagues in Khartoum were getting on!

Also on the third day of Eid, I went to the "Henna Party" part of the pre wedding celebrations, which I suppose is much like our traditional "Hen Party" with the absence of  alcohol and the male stripper!  However, it is just as much fun - a large group of women gathered together to dance, laugh and gossip.

The actual wedding took place two days after the Henna.  I was taken to join the ladies at the end of the religious part of the marriage, and told it would be an occasion where I would have to practice my Arabic as most of the ladies would not speak English!  Although what my friend Mohammed hadn't reckoned on was that a white woman in El Obeid at a party is like a heat seeking missile to those who want to practice their English speaking skills, so I had soon found some English speakers amongst the guests!  When I arrived there was a lady playing a traditional drum and singing, whilst others danced.  She kindly dedicated a song to me in Arabic and I was obliged to join in the dancing and show of my best Sudanese dance moves, much to the enjoyment of the crowd - I wasn't entirely sure if they were laughing with me or at me, but I didn't care, they had made me feel so welcome and a part of their celebrations.  Later we moved on to the main wedding celebration, picking up the polystyrene boxes with the wedding suppers in on the way.  It is the custom at such gatherings for all the women to sit one side together and the men on the other side, but everyone in Sudan loves to dance!  So the dance floor is a mixture of men, women and children enjoying the music and all dancing together, around the bride and groom, who by now have joined the party to be congratulated by all their guests.

Sudanese weddings are quite different from English

weddings in many ways.  Firstly in Sudan the celebrations can last up to a week, secondly the actual "marriage" is conducted in private between the bride and groom's families, and thirdly there is no such thing as a seating plan or guest list!  In Sudan when someone gets married everyone goes - non of that worrying whether you have a "plus 1" on your invitation or not!  You are welcome and so are your friends, the more the merrier!  The first weekend I was in Sudan a friends colleague's brother was getting married, so our friend took about six of us along to join in the fun - not only we were made most welcome we were thanked heartily at the end for attending.  Not something you would see at your average English wedding reception!

Eid week is a popular time for weddings, with many people finding themselves double and triple booked and having to attend several parties during the week, some on the same night.  After my non stop week of celebrating I was happy to get back into my work routine - until Christmas in Khartoum of course!

Suddenly it feels like home

Technology is a wonderful thing!  Without it you wouldn't be reading this now and I wouldn't be able to keep in touch with all my friends and family back home.  I can't describe how much speaking to my children and friends on skype lifts my spirits if I am feeling a little homesick.  One of the most crazy things about this amazing country is that in all my time here I have yet to be without a good mobile signal, so I have always been able to keep in touch with everyone.

After my spell of homesickness I realise how lucky I am.  My landlord can't do enough to make my apartment as comfortable as possible for me - bless him, he has now installed a water tank on the roof just for me and is sorting out some air conditioning too.  Although as I am acclimatising and the weather is cooling down for winter (it's now only a mere 35 degrees!) I am managing comfortably without it - in fact one night I had to get up and turn off the fan as I was cold!

Some of my colleagues have no running water at all in their homes, they live a happy and simple life in the houses that they were brought up in - taking water from the well in the yard and living without many things that we in the west would consider necessities.  

Every morning you see boys with donkey carts delivering water to people's homes, you can hear them making their way through the streets as they bang the plastic containers with their sticks!

 A Donkey Water Tanker!

One day the Dean takes me to the University along the old road, where we see all the donkey carts filling up.  "This place is called Donkey!"  he tells me, much to my amusement!
The old road (well I use the term road loosely!) is very scenic, it is mostly a track across the countryside to the University Campus.  We pass settlements, greenery and an abattoir along the way.  It actually takes less time this route than on the newer road, but it is impassable during the hot summer months due to the depth and fineness of the sand.  I have still to master the knack of walking on the sand - usually when walking on a hot sandy beach I elect to walk alongside the water on the wet sand - but this is not an option here!  There is sand, and lots of it everywhere!  Along the street and especially around the University Campus.  I marvel at how the Sudanese manage to keep their feet so clean, and feel very conscious of my own grubby sand ingrained ones!

I've settled into life at the University.  It is so comfortably relaxed I feel that I hardly justify the living allowance that they pay me.  My students take me for breakfast most days, giving me the opportunity to try all the local foods on offer.

Breakfast of "bush" with the students

One of the favourites is "bush", a mixture of traditional "Fuul" and bread.  Apparently it gets its name from George Bush, when he sent food aid during the 1980's famine!  Another student takes me to a restaurant near my home for a traditional meal of "Agashir" which is chicken cooked over coals, served with onions and limes - Laziiz! (Delicious!)

Everyone here is constantly going out of their way to make sure I am happy and have everything I need - I feel thoroughly spoilt!

When I venture to the market or into town I often bump into people I know or here someone calling my name down the street.  People here always have time to stop and chat.  I smile to myself thinking "I may have only been here a month but this is my town!"

 My front gate

Reality sinks in!

So here I am finally in the town that will be my home for the next 9 months.  I am glad to be out of Khartoum.  Much as I enjoyed my time there I'm not really a city kind of girl, and for me it's a little too like London in so much as it's busy, crowded and dirty.  From the little I've seen of El Obeid already it feels more like home.  The  Guest House is a fair way out of town and even further from the University Campus at Khawr Teggat where I am to be working most of the time.  Although to my Sudanese hosts this is not a problem; as they'll happily run me around; for a fiercely independent, single, Englishwoman it feels uncomfortably dependent.

The staff at the University are so warm  and friendly, within a few days I feel that I have known them for ages.  Many of them speak very good English and they are all so forgiving of my poor Arabic.  I only have four timetabled lectures a week to start with, which are all a the beginning of the week.  The rest of my time is spent drinking and eating breakfast with the students whilst chatting.  I haven't been at the University very long before a group of recent graduates come and seek me out to take me for a coffee and chat.  This all feels far too enjoyable to be considered work!

My first lectures are dreadful! Despite both my teaching background and TEFL training I don't really know quite where to start.  Text books, even old ones are a luxury item here, if the students are really lucky they might have a photocopy of an out of date edition of a book.  Interactive whiteboard??  You have got to be joking!  I thought I'd seen the last of the blackboards at my previous school!  Technology here is a lecture theatre with a working microphone!  However none of these difficulties faze the staff or the students, who are always cheerful and upbeat.  The difference in ability between some of the students is so vast.  Many of them, especially the girls are so quiet and shy they won't say a word so it's impossible to tell whether they understand what is going on or not!  However, the students are so respectful and kind they not only resist the temptation to eat me alive but thank me for my excellent lecture!  I promise to do better next week.

Although I am thoroughly enjoying my work, I missing my old roomies dreadfully and living on my own is starting to make me feel quite homesick.  Just under two weeks after my arrival in El Obeid I move to an apartment in the town centre.  It is basically one small room with a tiny kitchen area and a bathroom.  There is no air conditioning and the taps I soon find out are mostly for decorative effect!  I resolve that these are minor issues as being in the town centre will be much better for my state of mind, independence and my Arabic.

 My New Bachelorette Apartment!

With the English Society at University

However, after a couple of days without running water and too much time spent on my own in my new abode, my resolve starts to crack a little.  The low point comes when there is a problem at home, which turns out to be a minor issue, but at it's height had me thinking I might have to return to the UK.  This became a turning point, for as I considered the possibility of having to leave Sudan prematurely, I was filled with sadness.  Much as I miss my family and friends in the UK, how could I possibly leave my new friends, colleagues and students already?  I may have only been here a short time but as I walk around the University students call after me "Mrs Helen!" and my colleagues and I spend many hours engaged in light hearted banter over cups of tea.   The people of Sudan are so wonderful, the pace of life so relaxed - swearing and stress have already become things of my past!  Life may be hard here and people don't have much, but what they have they are more than happy to share, they have a warmth I have never encountered before.  I would hate for these lovely people to think that I am not happy in their country.

Still as they say "things often look better in the morning."  As day breaks I find that everything is fine back in the UK, and Al Hamdu lilla - I have running water this morning!  I think this is a sign - My work here has only just begun!  I'm feeling brighter already!

Off to El Obeid

At last I have the news I have been waiting for - All my paperwork is complete and I am off to El Obeid on Monday.  Part of me is excited to be finally on my way to my placement at the University of Kordofan http://www.kordofan.edu.sd/, but another part of me is quite terrified!  For the last month Billie, Jess and I have been like the Three Musketeers, living and going everywhere together and now I am going to be let loose in Sudan unaccompanied!  I have made so many friends in such a short time in Khartoum and although I will miss them terribly, I hope to do the same in El Obeid.

My last evening in Khartoum is spent with my good friends Bob and Omar at Omar's house which is near the centre of Khartoum, where we have a "Sudanese Takeaway."  The bus leaves at 730am and it's advisable to get there at least half an hour beforehand, and taxis and amjads are hard to find first thing in the morning.  Bob's friend Kamal kindly takes us to the bus station.  Even though it is only 7am the bus station is buzzing.  I am so glad that Bob and Omar are with me as I would be completely lost in the noise and chaos.  At about 715am they pack me onto a lovely air conditioned coach, complete with apples for sustenance on the journey, and the contact details of who will be meeting me at the other end.  Bob has got me the best seat on the bus - in the middle by the window with plenty of leg room.  I feel like a small child being packed off to school for the first time, with Bob and Omar fulfilling the roles of anxious parents!

As the bus pulls out of the bus station and meanders its way through the streets of Khartoum my feelings are very similar to those I had four weeks ago as I took the flight from Heathrow to Cairo.  My big adventure has been brilliant so far and now the next chapter begins, but this time I travel alone, feeling for the first time a little vulnerable due to my lack of Arabic, now cursing myself for not spending more time on it before I left the UK.

The landscape on the outskirts of Khartoum is very flat with buildings along the side of the road, which peter out into dust as far as the eye can see once we are out of  town, reminding me of my first view of Sudan from the plane.  It is a very long bus journey down and across  the country to El Obeid from Khartoum.  The exact time that the journey is supposed to take seems somewhat vague or as we say here in Sudan "Inshallah!"  About half way through the journey the landscape changes and there are bushes, trees and hills. At Kosti we cross the White Nile via a large bridge, with water as far as the eye can see.  Shortly after Kosti the bus stops for lunch.  I decide against lunch and just opt for a quick bathroom break as I would hate the bus to continue on without me and my Arabic is not up to asking how long the stop is for!  I needn't have worried though as unlike National Express, the bus waits for everyone before continuing the journey!  The bus makes several stops along the way, seemingly in the middle of nowhere, for people to get off and on.  The scenery is much more interesting now.   There are small villages with traditional African huts, which I later find out are the Nomad communities.

 Nomad Huts 

Hills!

Finally after a ten hour journey I arrive in El Obeid, where I am met by my new colleagues Hassan Muser and Mohammed Hassan, who have been waiting over two hours for me to arrive.  They take me straight to my accommodation and leave me to settle in and get some rest.  Later Hassan comes to pick me up and take me into town for something to eat and drink.  The Guest House where I am staying belongs to the El Obeid Research Centre.  It is out of the town but very quiet and comfortable, so I have no trouble getting a good night's sleep, although it feels very strange being completely on my own for the first time in 4 weeks.

The next day Hassan picks me up and shows me all round the University, which is spread over 3 different campuses across the town.  He introduces me to so many people, I know I am going to forget their names and what they do!  So I am delighted when I hear a familiar name, "Victor" not once but two or three times. That makes life easier I say to Hassan - we have this name in England!  "What name," he replies "Victor" I say.  "No, Duktoor, (Sudanese for Dr!) - They are PHD holders!  "Oh!"  I say, knowing my brain has lost at least the last three names it has heard as it had clung to the title and ignored the rest of the names that followed!  (Arabic names are made up of a first name, the father's name and the grandfathers name).

Everyone I meet is very warm and welcoming.  In usual Sudanese style nothing is too much trouble.  I am told if I want to go anywhere to phone someone and they will come and pick me up and take me where I want to go, and if I need anything to just phone any time.  Part two of my adventure has begun!

The Funeral Crashers!

On Saturday we got up early to say goodbye to Jess, who went off to Wad Medani to her University.  First thing in the morning the tea ladies have delicious donuts, but have usually run out by the time we normally surface.  So Billie and I thought we'd take advantage of being up and about at 7:30am and find some

Glancing along the road, there were no obvious tea ladies around, but we noticed a canopy across the street next door to the pharmacy.  We headed across the road and asked in our best Arabic if there was any tea, there were several ladies sitting peeling vegetables.  The ladies invited us to sit, and after a few minutes a young girl appeared with two teas on a tray for us.  In the mean time the other ladies had started chatting to us and one of them told us that someone had died so they were preparing lunch.  We were mortified!  How crass could we be?  Walking into the preparations for a wake and demanding tea?  What we needed now was a dignified exit before we could make matters any worse!  I figured the best thing to do under the circumstances was to offer to help them with the preparations.

The Sudanese don't bother with chopping boards they just cut and slice into their hands, which may be extremely dangerous especially with my John Lewis kitchen knives from home, but more hygienic and removing all dilemmas about which board to use to avoid cross contamination, with the added bonus that should I lose a finger during the process I would have a indisputable excuse to leave!

How long can it take a group of women to peel and slice a large pan of aubergines anyway?  THREE HOURS! - what I hadn't realised was that underneath the large already peeled and sliced pan of onions was another larger pan of aubergines!  Still the work was conducted with lively banter and a bit of an Anglo/Arabic lesson, with frequent stops for refreshments.  Once all the aubergines had been sliced we announced that we should really go now.  "You must stay and have breakfast with us!" the ladies insisted,  Well it would seem rude not to, so we did and it was excellent!

By now our  hands were attracting a lot of attention - the insides were now the same colour as our new found Sudanese friends hands!  "It's no problem" I insist "I'll wash them later,"  Before we could go phone numbers needed to be exchanged so I popped back to the house to get my phone and wash my hands.  After plenty of soap and furious scrubbing they were resolutely the same tone of brown!  When I returned with my phone, the ladies showed Billie and I how to rub sand into the stains to get them off and we left shortly after with our hands returned to a near normal colour.  "But you must come back for lunch!" they insisted.

Despite our horrific mistake, it was truly the most pleasurable experience in Sudan so far, to sit and chatter with a group of local ladies (whom we'd assumed initially were tea ladies!)  There were midwives, teachers, students all mucking in together to prepare the feast for the wake.

After a rest and a shower we went back across the road to rejoin our new found friends.  Only to find that the group was now more of a large crowd and there was no one that we recognised.  Again we were told to sit, but this time we were asked to show our hands - clearly the white "khawajas" brown hands had been a subject of hilarity after we'd left the first time!

We spent a lovely evening in the company of friends and close family of the deceased, being looked after in true Sudanese style.  When our friend Higer left, we saw it as an appropriate time to make our excuses and leave too.  However, Higer was not ready to part company with us and kindly invited us to her house where we spent a very pleasant hour or so drinking tea and chatting with her family, after which her husband dropped us back home.

Settling In

One of the bonuses of living in Omdurman is that to get into Khartoum we have to get a bus.  Well I say bonuses!  Getting a bus in Sudan is quite entertaining and can be a bit of an adventure.  For a start the buses are in keeping with the Sudanese taxis - they have all clearly seen better days and probably not in my lifetime.  There are also different sizes of bus with different prices, and there are also "Amjads" and "Rickshaws" to take you from A to B.  Although they have some bus stops in Sudan, apparently nobody bothers with them, so to hail a bus you simply stand by the roadside and make an appropriate hand gesture.  Appropriate meaning the correct hand signal for the destination that you want to go to!  Quite often a bus going elsewhere will stop just to check where you're heading and often it seems like they are laughing and waving at you as they sail past!

The bus station at Jackson, in Khartoum is a crazily busy place.  There are always crowds of people, loads of market stalls and a fair selection of beggars and juice bars.  The Sunday after we arrived we were standing in the bus station at what we thought was the front of the queue waiting patiently for a bus to take us home.  As the bus pulled into the bay everyone started running towards it, people were throwing themselves through the open windows and others were barging each other out of the way in their haste to get on the bus.  We stood and watched this spectacle twice, wondering how on earth we were going to get home, when we struck up a conversation with a Sudanese student called "Carlos."  He told us not to worry he would help us.  When the next bus pulled up he thrust his bag at Billie and dived on the bus and promptly lay across three seats.  We then joined the malaise pushing and shoving our way onto the bus worried that if we didn't make it Carlos would never see his bag again!  Once on the bus, we chatted to Carlos who turned out to be a student of some of our fellow SVP Volunteers, and when we arrived at our destination he insisted on paying our bus fare in true Sudanese style.  We thanked him profusely as he'd also saved us the humiliation of not being able to get off the bus in the right place due to our combined inability to click our fingers loud enough! The essential skills required to travel by bus are a range of hand gestures, the ability to throw yourself through an open window and be able to click your fingers loud enough for the driver to stop when you arrive at your chosen destination (unless it is the bus station or the end of the line where they'll just tell you to get off anyway!)

Jackson Bus Station, Khartoum

The whole SVP experience at this stage is like "Big Brother" meets "The Apprentice."  The heat is exhausting , and the best way to deal with it is to sleep it off until you get used to it.  So we spend loads of time lazing around, chatting, sleeping etc just like they do on Big Brother, then suddenly the phone will ring and we'll be told to meet Paul at the SVP flat.  Then we have to get ready and jump on a bus (sadly no limos for us!) to complete our latest task.  Thankfully so far no one has been evicted or fired!

It takes time to get all the necessary paperwork to stay and work in the country, so we have to hang loose in  Khartoum until it's all completed.  To help kill the time we have been doing a little bit of sight seeing and venturing out and about in the evenings looking for food.

 A view across the Nile from Tuti Island

Khartoum from the Nile

Some of our adventures using the various methods of transport have proved to be quite entertaining!  One night we decided to give up on the bus and take an Amjad into Khartoum as we were running late.  Not only did we not get dropped off where we had requested but the driver then charged us 30 Sudanese Pounds.  Unfortunately at the time we had no idea of how much it should be, but only realised we'd been ripped off when the driver shared the joke with some friends at the roadside who laughed at the stupid "khawajas" as we walked away.  On another occasion we took a Rickshaw to the Souk up the road from where we live, as we had not said exactly where in the Souk we wanted dropping, the driver just kept on driving all round and into the Souk, down the narrow alley ways.  When it got to the point where he was having to kick cardboard boxes out of his way to get past we realised our mistake and made our apologies and got out!

To help us get a flavour of what to expect Tom and some of the other existing volunteers have invited us to join them at their English Clubs.  It was great to finally get the opportunity to meet some students and chat with them.  The most common question they ask (often in near perfect English) is "how can I perfect my English?" or "What do I need to do to become an expert English speaker?"  As someone who is appalling at learning languages I am often impressed by how well other nationalities speak our language, but here it is the overwhelming enthusiasm and passion for English that continues to amaze me.  Before I arrived in Sudan I'd had a conversation with one of my daughter's friends about my plan to teach English here, to which he responded "Oh, so you're going there to teach them to speak English so they can come over and take our jobs."  To which I'd replied that I hadn't really thought about it like that.  Well even if I had, nothing could be further from the truth.  If we think our post graduate unemployment situation is bad, it's nothing compared to Sudan's.  During my short time here I have met people with Masters Degrees driving Amjads and many post graduates working in shops or doing what ever they can to make ends meet.  Even graduating top of your class does not guarantee future employment.  To get one of the coveted jobs with a major company or government department, excellent English is a necessity.  A good command of the English language also increases job prospects in neighbouring African and Arab countries.

My most humbling experience so far was visiting the Evangelical School in Omdurman.  We were invited to their Open Day and when we arrived there were a few people milling about around a small outdoor arena.  By the time we were guided to our seats and had got settled at least 200 people had assembled and surrounded us.  Tom introduced himself and explained who we were and we took turns to step into the centre and introduce ourselves and invite the students to ask us questions.  Everyone who spoke thanked us profusely for honouring them with our presence.   After the question and answer session various students made contributions ranging from speeches and poems to raps and drama sketches.  At the end of the session it was almost impossible to get away as everyone wanted to introduce themselves, shake your hand and talk to you.  For a brief moment I felt I knew what it was like to be a celebrity!

The students are so warm and welcoming I now feel confident that I'm going to thoroughly enjoy my time teaching here.

First Impressions

Sitting on the plane at terminal 3 Heathrow at take off, I think to myself  "Well that's it now! No going back, bridges fully burned!"  I'd given up a well paid job, rented out my house and said goodbye to all my friends and family to go off and teach English in Sudan for an academic year as a volunteer.  Some may say now my mid-life crisis is finally complete, although if my friends and family thought that, they sure hadn't said as much to me.  I've been completely bowled over by all their warm wishes and support.  At least if it all goes horribly wrong I have come at it from a safe, secured place where I am loved and will be able to count on everyone's support.  I feel so lucky yet humbled by the thought.

I meet up with Billie, another SVP volunteer at Cairo Airport, where we have a 4 hour delay.  On our descent into Khartoum the small child next to me vomits all down my right side! Welcome to Sudan!  As if  it's not humiliating enough arriving in a new country smelling of toddler puke, customs then decide to search one of my cases.  I wrack my brains to think what I have in that particular case and hope to god they don't bring out anything too embarrassing!

Then By the time we finally make it out of the airport Bob and Omar have been waiting in the heat of the midday sun for several hours.  They escort us to our Taxi, and I want to laugh out loud - The taxi would not have looked out of place in your average English breaker's yard - the doors barely close, the seats are all ripped and my two suitcases are flung onto the roof rack and not secured.  Still at least this helped prepare me for Khartoum itself and the luxury of the SVP flat.  Many of the streets of Khartoum are nothing more than dirt roads, buildings are pretty ramshackle in the main and rubbish is everywhere.  We pull up outside a building in a bustling side street, and climb three stories up to the flat.  I am mortified at this point as Bob and Omar insist on carrying my extensive and very heavy luggage all the way.  Little do I know at this point that in a couple of days time they would be insisting on carrying it all down again when we relocate to Momin's house!

The flat is pretty basic and the furniture is a little worn, if Kim and Aggie were to turn up they'd be a little horrified about some areas, but on the plus side there is air conditioning in the sitting room and the beds are clean and very comfortable.  We later discover that the flat is donated by a local business who sponsor SVP. SVP relies on it's sponsors, friends and supporters to keep the operation afloat as it is a very modest charity with few assets and what money it has is ploughed in to attracting  volunteers and financing the programme.

Once inside the flat we are greeted by Paul, our coordinator, who fills us in with some background and essential information.  Exhausted by the combination of the trip and the extreme heat, Billie and I go for a lie down.

When we wake up refreshed later on, Paul takes us across the road for a traditional Sudanese meal of "Fuul", which is essentially a bean stew, with egg and cheese added to it.  This is my first opportunity to try out my "eating with my right hand" which I had been stressing about before I arrived, desperate not to cause offence.

The next day we are introduced to Shafaq, a lovely Sudanese girl, who works with SVP helping to orientate volunteers on arrival.  She takes us out on a shopping trip for essential items like local SIM cards, phones, dongles and most of all - petticoats!  My mum had asked me before I left if I had any - so Mum you'll be pleased to know no ones' looking through my skirts out here now!  During this shopping trip out in the midday sun, we take a bus to Omdurman Souk.  It's only our first day we have had quite an adventure already!

The trip proves to be a little too much too soon, so Billie and I retire to bed with headaches.  After a nap I feel refreshed again and awake to new voices in the flat - Andy, the next of the volunteers has arrived.  Later on Paul, Andy and myself venture out to a nice restaurant where I have a delicious meal of Nile Perch.  Unfortunately Billie is suffering with a touch of sunstroke and is not up to joining us.

The heat is stifling as we lay in bed attempting sleep.  Eventually I manage to drop off and am awoken in the early hours to the sound of  a new voice in the flat.  I am too exhausted to bother investigating so it is some hours later that I meet Jess, the latest volunteer to arrive.  After Billie and I are up and showered we all pop out to get some breakfast.  We then spend the rest of the morning and most of the afternoon vegging around the flat until Bob and Abu Bakr arrive to take us to Momin's house where we are going to be staying from now on.  They have quite a struggle getting all our combined luggage into the boot of the car and at one point in the journey the boot pops open and Abu Bakr gets out at the traffic lights and slams it shut again!  When we arrive we are greeted by a very cheery Sudanese man who welcomes us to his home and shows us our new accommodation.  Here we have a pleasant bedroom which opens onto a courtyard off of which there is a small kitchen and another room with a fridge and some seats in.  Before leaving us for the evening Shafaq shows us the shop next door, which we later christen "Tesco Express," and Egyptian House.  Once we've settled in we head off to Egyptian House in search of food.  Luckily there is a lovely Ethiopian chap who speaks good English, who sorts us out with a large Pizza to share and a coke each.  As we come through our new front door a man follows us and cheerily asks if he can come and live with us.  I don't want to be rude to him so I just laugh and say no, but he is most persistant, "please just for an hour," he pleads.  I'm about to shut the door in his face when he laughs and introduces himself as Momin, our host.  The cheerful chap we'd met earlier turned out to be his brother Fadili!