tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34253089361331386992024-03-05T21:12:43.125+02:00Ten Months In SudanThe ramblings of a 40 something mother of two teenagers who gave up a perfectly good teaching job in the UK, to teach English in Sudan as a volunteer with Sudan Volunteer Programme.Helen Lambhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09159307639469703505noreply@blogger.comBlogger18125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3425308936133138699.post-2203092403952763142012-07-05T17:32:00.000+02:002012-07-05T17:32:16.565+02:00Masalaama Sudan<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Before I know it my last week in Sudan arrives. It feels kind of surreal in a way - the first few months in Sudan were like a strange 'out of body experience' looking down on someone else's life; everything was so different from life in England. Now memories of my life in the UK feel like watching a favourite old movie that I once starred in! I've grown so used to my surroundings, job and all the people around me to the extent that it feels that I've lived here all my life - even my Arabic is starting to improve!</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRSnYAsq9CtY-TfQ0uiOLNVCZazsGfh1KUxjTh0mvg2MPwGcRS1sAwvG2V8jYcjJKpjAmrQhkHXCJ8njqDW8Llv5jHFvBBpF2k8_x-p9pAOmy-Ej8n6x784DKu2sThqPv0Vm_LOWYAB-j9/s1600/DSC03554.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRSnYAsq9CtY-TfQ0uiOLNVCZazsGfh1KUxjTh0mvg2MPwGcRS1sAwvG2V8jYcjJKpjAmrQhkHXCJ8njqDW8Llv5jHFvBBpF2k8_x-p9pAOmy-Ej8n6x784DKu2sThqPv0Vm_LOWYAB-j9/s320/DSC03554.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="font-size: large;">Regular readers will know by now that the Sudanese are legendary in their ability to throw a party and celebrate in style. On the Tuesday night I was told to be at the Extra Institute for 6pm and arrived to find all the tables and chairs set up outside and a few of my students waiting for me. I felt quite sad chatting to the group for the last time, they had been such fun to work with, and their English has improved so much - I made them promise that they would keep up with their studies and attend the twice weekly speak out club. Gradually the institute started to fill with people and become a hive of activity. Food arrived and then some huge speakers were put up. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgksC7f3xSba6skomj_MxIpukICeNiyH7O_07fFWGn5aOxc0MuRJQmvbbKeBOwIVqalDXcePbNQXwZKwIAW1k9EhYTi0oRUNbNSmovbN7ygN3W2M8_tu3VAd3Q8q7fXMAYFw1DpyvIiYrtC/s1600/DSC03604.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgksC7f3xSba6skomj_MxIpukICeNiyH7O_07fFWGn5aOxc0MuRJQmvbbKeBOwIVqalDXcePbNQXwZKwIAW1k9EhYTi0oRUNbNSmovbN7ygN3W2M8_tu3VAd3Q8q7fXMAYFw1DpyvIiYrtC/s320/DSC03604.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="font-size: large;">I couldn't believe it when I recognised the students I had seen perform at the Independence Day Celebrations amongst the people arriving. It was then that I put two and two together and realised that they were going to be singing at MY party! I was completely blown away - so much thought, time and effort had been put into giving me a send off that I would never forget! There were several speeches from those who had know and worked with me over the 9 months I had been there. Such lovely things said about me - I hadn't begun to imagine how much my presence had been appreciated. It was the least I could do to give my thank you speech in Arabic, which was doubly terrifying due to the amplifiers and speakers broadcasting it to the town! I had an incredible time dancing the night away with friends and students, and thanks to my friend Amar, I have plenty of photographs to relive the party!</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx_ms2CWEESnWZ_YXE6o4FFb81u3CSZm6R0STfsR4XFEz82Z27d8ns4bYy9G7v95VFQ8lPsQpjP1VkHmVBcyKVv0CqFN4sEAVU9QHRbqwnILhGZk0aKkT58btRIlvkgB58C1s28V9itvEA/s1600/fairwell4.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx_ms2CWEESnWZ_YXE6o4FFb81u3CSZm6R0STfsR4XFEz82Z27d8ns4bYy9G7v95VFQ8lPsQpjP1VkHmVBcyKVv0CqFN4sEAVU9QHRbqwnILhGZk0aKkT58btRIlvkgB58C1s28V9itvEA/s1600/fairwell4.png" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx_ms2CWEESnWZ_YXE6o4FFb81u3CSZm6R0STfsR4XFEz82Z27d8ns4bYy9G7v95VFQ8lPsQpjP1VkHmVBcyKVv0CqFN4sEAVU9QHRbqwnILhGZk0aKkT58btRIlvkgB58C1s28V9itvEA/s1600/fairwell4.png"></a><span style="font-size: large;">The next evening my friends Assim and Majid picked me up to take me to the Vice Chancellor's office for my formal farewell from the University. Another evening of food, amazing speeches of thanks and beautiful gifts, with the media department from the university there to record the event for posterity</span>:</div>
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<a href="http://www.kordofan.edu.sd/index.php/en/component/content/article/205-2012-06-17-06-14-52.html">http://www.kordofan.edu.sd/index.php/en/component/content/article/205-2012-06-17-06-14-52.html</a>. <span style="font-size: large;">Again I was blown away by the lovely comments and warm gratitude shown by my colleagues and students whom I'd worked with for 9 months. One of my semester 6 students was amongst those who gave speeches in my honor.</span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEYARIvs-VlY2__tAjG5dxlN0-uslmt8BtMwIcXiyEOO6Fpm6i-OeiyhST3Ujrsu2ll6r5xP2o2ZU38jAkrcBMRL89nbzryJyT0TB2t4ao5qu07vRloYbuzDuiBahv4l6-Cl1ErzTZsjgM/s1600/DSC03783.JPG"></a></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEYARIvs-VlY2__tAjG5dxlN0-uslmt8BtMwIcXiyEOO6Fpm6i-OeiyhST3Ujrsu2ll6r5xP2o2ZU38jAkrcBMRL89nbzryJyT0TB2t4ao5qu07vRloYbuzDuiBahv4l6-Cl1ErzTZsjgM/s1600/DSC03783.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEYARIvs-VlY2__tAjG5dxlN0-uslmt8BtMwIcXiyEOO6Fpm6i-OeiyhST3Ujrsu2ll6r5xP2o2ZU38jAkrcBMRL89nbzryJyT0TB2t4ao5qu07vRloYbuzDuiBahv4l6-Cl1ErzTZsjgM/s320/DSC03783.JPG" width="320" /></a><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBowdeOiWiHdNHjELmGdZX3p2NkQLcZfc_xo3iRmE7QVHXf_xRgh3gfiJ6u_lWVGy-ytllRK76BYgeaMrLlu3NxCItkAIR2Nvt-hYT-OHuOL9NH5uIZesqmK1b88mZ18SD7vxzXhSyd17d/s1600/DSC03703.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBowdeOiWiHdNHjELmGdZX3p2NkQLcZfc_xo3iRmE7QVHXf_xRgh3gfiJ6u_lWVGy-ytllRK76BYgeaMrLlu3NxCItkAIR2Nvt-hYT-OHuOL9NH5uIZesqmK1b88mZ18SD7vxzXhSyd17d/s1600/DSC03703.JPG"></a><span style="font-size: large;">I was presented with a beautiful framed certificate with the dedication in both Arabic and English which I will hang in pride of place once I have a more permanent resting place, a delicious cake; made for me by the Vice Chancellor Prof. Meshaal Abdelgadir's daughter; and a range of other lovely traditionally made gifts making this another truly memorable evening.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBowdeOiWiHdNHjELmGdZX3p2NkQLcZfc_xo3iRmE7QVHXf_xRgh3gfiJ6u_lWVGy-ytllRK76BYgeaMrLlu3NxCItkAIR2Nvt-hYT-OHuOL9NH5uIZesqmK1b88mZ18SD7vxzXhSyd17d/s1600/DSC03703.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBowdeOiWiHdNHjELmGdZX3p2NkQLcZfc_xo3iRmE7QVHXf_xRgh3gfiJ6u_lWVGy-ytllRK76BYgeaMrLlu3NxCItkAIR2Nvt-hYT-OHuOL9NH5uIZesqmK1b88mZ18SD7vxzXhSyd17d/s320/DSC03703.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">On my last day in El Obeid, my friend Rabha and I attended the wedding lunch and evening celebration of our dear friend Khansa's sister, Shima. This was my last chance to be the 'embarrassing khwajia at a wedding' and I danced to the ladies playing the Dalooka for one last time at their family home in the afternoon before attending the formal celebrations in the evening. I will always look back fondly at the amazing hospitality I was shown at all times, and the warmth with which I was included on such family celebrations I had the pleasure to attend during my time in Sudan.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Early the next morning we left Rabha's family home for El Obeid bus station to travel to Khartoum. I couldn't speak to Rabha's aunt who was travelling with us as I just felt so emotional to be finally starting my journey home. Knowing that I wouldn't be seeing the now so familiar sights of the town and area again. The bus station was very busy and I was pleased to get seated on the bus, out of the way of the crowd. As we waited to depart I saw Mohammed Shams Aldin making his way through the crowds - bless him, he'd come along to say a final farewell to me! I could feel the tears in the back of my eyes as the bus edged its way out of the bus station and through the early morning traffic of El Obeid. Around 4pm we arrived in Khartoum and said our goodbyes to Rabha's aunt and got a taxi to Rabha's sister's home, where I watched in amazement as the Ethiopian maid carried my suitcase up two flights of stairs on her head!</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">That evening we met up with my SVP friends Omar, Christine, Rebecca and Suleman (who'd accompanied us on our camping trip to the desert). It still felt slightly unreal to think I would not see them again (with the exception of Christine, who I hope to see when she returns to the UK).</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVUT1Qzfbz1WyXCUwSfSPqbYETo2-lWAB5mvPdeWvsNe_66ZfhUjZFW03hn1HLaXbMeJ8KDgrECkKsgybG2cjO-p78uDwRfVwomxZe8vHotx359LPQyQWEQlABBz-WP36GDnE1RAhhJWCH/s1600/DSC03730.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVUT1Qzfbz1WyXCUwSfSPqbYETo2-lWAB5mvPdeWvsNe_66ZfhUjZFW03hn1HLaXbMeJ8KDgrECkKsgybG2cjO-p78uDwRfVwomxZe8vHotx359LPQyQWEQlABBz-WP36GDnE1RAhhJWCH/s320/DSC03730.JPG" style="cursor: move;" unselectable="on" width="320" /></a><span style="font-size: large;">On the Sunday, my last day, Rabha and I went out shopping for me to buy some last minute gifts for family and friends back home and had breakfast coincidentally in the same restaurant where Billie, Jess, Shafaq and I had eaten during our first few days in Sudan. In the evening we went to '41' for ice cream as a final treat before Rabha and I set of for the airport in the early hours. It was so lovely to spend my last few days in Sudan with Rabha, we've become such close friends over the last few months - I am sure we will meet again - insha allah! Like me, she hates goodbyes, so we promised each other there would be no emotional scenes, as this was not so much a goodbye as a farewell - 'murrer jai' - until next time! Which is how I feel about Sudan itself - I have to return in the future, if only for a visit.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">During my journey home I spent some time reflecting on this amazing adventure. I have learnt so much during the last 10 months - about Sudan, it's wonderful people, their culture and Islam, but also I have learnt a tremendous amount about myself! Sure it had it's moments and there were times when I really just wanted to go home, back to everything familiar and 'safe' (as in my comfort zone). I got through it all without the aid of alcohol or anti depressants (two of my crutches over recent years), and realised what a strong, adaptable, resourceful person I can be when I set my mind to it. I wouldn't have missed it for all the world. I met some fabulous, genuine, humble people some of whom I am sure I will remain friends with for the rest of my life. I learnt about their country, culture and religion, about the daily challenges they face with a smile on their faces and joy in their hearts. I realised the many things we take for granted in the developed world and the things that really matter in life - people, relationships, health and happiness. I feel ready to take on what ever life chooses to throw at me and what ever new adventures it brings. What next?? Watch this space!</span><img height="72" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVUT1Qzfbz1WyXCUwSfSPqbYETo2-lWAB5mvPdeWvsNe_66ZfhUjZFW03hn1HLaXbMeJ8KDgrECkKsgybG2cjO-p78uDwRfVwomxZe8vHotx359LPQyQWEQlABBz-WP36GDnE1RAhhJWCH/s320/DSC03730.JPG" style="filter: alpha(opacity=30); left: 162px; opacity: 0.3; position: absolute; top: 3427px;" width="96" /></div>Helen Lambhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09159307639469703505noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3425308936133138699.post-5359400936842443692012-06-01T14:32:00.000+02:002012-06-01T14:32:22.314+02:00Time Flies!<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Firstly apologies for somewhat neglecting my blog over the last month or so. After around 10 days in Khartoum, I was delighted to return to El Obeid, my job and my friends here. It was great to get back and get on with the job I am here to do. Those who know me well know that I am not into politics or proper gander, that I'm a simple girl just trying to do my best to make a bit of a difference to those I teach. R</span><span style="font-size: large;">ecent media coverage of problems here in Sudan has had an </span><span style="font-size: large;">adverse effect on SVP's volunteer programme. </span><span style="font-size: large;">Unfortunately some would be volunteers have been put off by what they have seen and heard about Sudan, which whilst understandable - I would urge them to speak to those who know the area and the people before making a decision one way or the other. If they make the decision not to come they will be missing an invaluable opportunity to gain an insight to this amazing country and it's people.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">For most of us fortunate to live in the developed world we have no concept of the unrest and struggle that is a normal part of every day life in many countries and could not begin to imagine how people just get on with their daily lives which are so very different to ours. Being a responsible London based organisation with years of experience of sending volunteers to work in Sudan - SVP are simply not in the business of sending people into potential danger zones and the organisations they work with in Sudan would not accept volunteers if they felt their safety may be at risk in any way. The volunteer programme makes such a big difference to so many people, giving them a chance to improve their English language, which in turn gives them a better chance of getting a job and helping to make a real difference in their own country. Please if you know anyone who may be interested in volunteering share this link:- </span><a href="http://svp-uk.com/home" style="font-size: x-large;">http://svp-uk.com/home</a><span style="font-size: large;">. Thanks!</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I feel safer walking around the streets of El Obeid after dark than at home - the worst thing I have had happen is when unbeknown to me a bat took refuge inside my shirt one night when I was out! God knows how it got in there without me knowing and it frightened the life out of me when I discovered it - although to be honest I think the bat was pretty stunned and terrified when it was suddenly flung from it's warm nesting place!</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The Sudanese people are the most humble, proud, caring people I have had the good fortune to meet. Many of them do not have very much but share it without question, and are most offended if you don't eat them out of house and home when you visit. I can probably count on one hand the number of times I have paid for my own bus fare or breakfast since I have been here - which I know sounds dreadful, but the people here get very offended if their guests pay their own way! They live very simple lives and are grateful for the little that they have - many of my students live without electricity and running water, and throughout the summer, water supply is a major problem even here in the town, being so far away from the Nile. For the first time in my life I am having to make decisions such as what shall I use the little bit of remaining water for; washing myself, my clothes, the dishes or flushing the toilet? I find myself laughing when I read stories of the "drought" in the UK and how neighbours can now shop each other for getting the paddling pool out as the "temperature soars into the mid to high 20's." The children here have to wait until the rainy season to play in pools of water in the muddy streets.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRiwBsIBftYmqKhlHy9TYk3765LyLDxM-EN0KGG2oweg-jkGfzRwsYAYVzTTRFyXW_8jNPlb0C8_tWtzD1M1R6KJcHd0tkFCr1rTVM41QXp-zO8njsIDKf4yhN-_l9r7NKb8dXv52u0Gxx/s1600/DSC03492.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; display: inline !important; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRiwBsIBftYmqKhlHy9TYk3765LyLDxM-EN0KGG2oweg-jkGfzRwsYAYVzTTRFyXW_8jNPlb0C8_tWtzD1M1R6KJcHd0tkFCr1rTVM41QXp-zO8njsIDKf4yhN-_l9r7NKb8dXv52u0Gxx/s320/DSC03492.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a><span style="font-size: large;">Since I have been here I have learned so much about the Sudanese people, their customs and traditions and ways of life. I have been to many celebrations and family occasions.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj9kx6wyvcrmgwmDn-4_2iVxDK1_rhce1GMcHeurAbc6tP9F9WWxWob_lmI4uAZj5OiK8iCmDngva1P4EZxDYEmmuheXkIbt5XPoFEch7mXAvNEr4SgYBAVwJlt1FR-xSy8E3MxMUmGYm0/s1600/DSC03509.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj9kx6wyvcrmgwmDn-4_2iVxDK1_rhce1GMcHeurAbc6tP9F9WWxWob_lmI4uAZj5OiK8iCmDngva1P4EZxDYEmmuheXkIbt5XPoFEch7mXAvNEr4SgYBAVwJlt1FR-xSy8E3MxMUmGYm0/s320/DSC03509.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Last weekend I went to the </span><span style="font-size: large;">circumcision celebration for 5 </span><span style="font-size: large;">seriously cute little boys aged from about 18 months to 7 years old. The main part of the celebration took place in the family home of one of my close friends relatives. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">The ladies gathered to mark the occasion with the usual singing along to the "Dalooka," a traditional drum.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbWPjUDPTQsH81lSRsttGETijtx2bf5C_g3C9MQWQIdKkhluoFx3CMQmZP4ZfNcob1Ir2Qd9xtLOFBfRgR_18Rs9tRVaFjrnZTA8jRuFpcosr5H8-UZgHVT99r3rx1TbRTRusdr7Bcpndm/s1600/DSC03457.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbWPjUDPTQsH81lSRsttGETijtx2bf5C_g3C9MQWQIdKkhluoFx3CMQmZP4ZfNcob1Ir2Qd9xtLOFBfRgR_18Rs9tRVaFjrnZTA8jRuFpcosr5H8-UZgHVT99r3rx1TbRTRusdr7Bcpndm/s320/DSC03457.JPG" width="320" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Afterwards we took the boys to a tomb at a nearby mosque and then on to the photography studio for the official photographs to mark the occasion. I thought I was simply along for the ride and to capture some more snaps with my own camera, but no! They insisted that I joined them inside the studio so now as well as many couples having the "khawajia" (foreigner!) in their wedding videos, there are 5 little boys who have her in their pictures too!</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX_hrgCSbVYmv1El756ieN45voz0c-OJP-j1RCNdD8IqZkwBUmauDF6xCk1S_dT7z0l4Vfzz5MXGWDIJ-NnbHRqhuQI4ySXMyd-INEzaY7jl9gEzB6YnqDLN0IODr4Yh_oVig5g6woxV3b/s1600/DSC03488.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX_hrgCSbVYmv1El756ieN45voz0c-OJP-j1RCNdD8IqZkwBUmauDF6xCk1S_dT7z0l4Vfzz5MXGWDIJ-NnbHRqhuQI4ySXMyd-INEzaY7jl9gEzB6YnqDLN0IODr4Yh_oVig5g6woxV3b/s320/DSC03488.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Earlier this week I attended one of the many parties in the run up to a wedding - this one was where they mix the traditional perfumes worn by the bride and groom. They grind up a combination of aromatic woods and spices and mix them with a carrier perfume, whilst continuing to sing and drum.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I was delighted when the bridegroom's mother gave me my own little bottle to bring home as a souvenir!</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmnco0hTucPLRy3UoFW5sZ0zv_mJmEb471rtT6rn1h2pRQfrmgXEWiqXF0ulpS-yPgegHUIZZbywh0HjP9wTYjzPl33anktT0V4AToqw_m7UztEBq5SdmHtinRBiWAgO8QMylyFyAV9v2j/s1600/DSC03499.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmnco0hTucPLRy3UoFW5sZ0zv_mJmEb471rtT6rn1h2pRQfrmgXEWiqXF0ulpS-yPgegHUIZZbywh0HjP9wTYjzPl33anktT0V4AToqw_m7UztEBq5SdmHtinRBiWAgO8QMylyFyAV9v2j/s320/DSC03499.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="font-size: large;">There are so many lovely traditions here in Sudan, some of which vary from tribe to tribe and some which pass between different tribes, as tribes become mixed by marriage. But all occasion are marked with pride, singing, dancing and of course plenty of good old Sudanese hospitality!</span></div>Helen Lambhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09159307639469703505noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3425308936133138699.post-63178479035483181242012-04-22T21:57:00.000+02:002012-04-22T21:57:29.923+02:00Carry on camping!<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Shortly after the occupation of Heglig by South Sudan, it was suggested that I should leave North Kordofan for Khartoum, at least for the interim anyway. It was very sad not being able to say goodbye to my many students and friends in El Obeid, and frustrating not being able to continue to do my job in the town that I had come to love and call my home.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">However, if I had to pick a week in which to return to Khartoum I couldn't have chosen a better one! Not only was I welcomed with open arms by my fantastic SVP friends; who made sure I didn't want for anything; I was also now able to go on the surprise camping trip planned by Billie and Omer for Christine's 21st birthday.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">A stroke of luck enabled us to borrow a photo copy of Christine's passport, which we used to get a travel permit to Bagrawia without her knowing! So it was all systems go.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Around 2pm on Friday, Omer, Moneer, Bob and Suleman arrived at our apartment in a large air-conditioned van that was already packed to the gunnel's before we added our luggage into the mix! Christine; who'd already been told not to make plans for the weekend; was given 10 minutes notice to be ready and pack a small bag.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">So off we set in the searing afternoon heat, for the desert - mad dogs and Englishmen certainly sprung to mind at this point!</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">After about 3 hours we arrive at our destination, </span><span style="font-size: large;">Bagrawia where there is a group of</span><span style="font-size: large;"> pyramids in the desert! They were amazing to see amongst great hills of sand, where they have stood for thousands of years.Sadly many of them are now damaged and were looted long ago for their treasures that lay within, but some have been restored and recreated thanks to a charitable project. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">We found a nice spot to make our camp, just the other side of the pyramids - we didn't realise just how close we were until the following morning!</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Putting up the tents proved to be quite a challenge as it was very windy and there was little shelter, but we managed to get them all up before settling down to create something to eat, by which time the light was fading fast.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">After we ate our sumptuous meal we smoked sheesha and lay looking at the amazing star filled sky, until settling into our tents for the night.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">In the morning just as we were finishing our breakfast some Bedouins came along on their camels and a group of small boys set up an "instant market" just for our benefit. Before we knew it we were off across the desert in a camel train - such an amazing experience! </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Getting on was surprisingly easy, and you just hang on for dear life as the camel raises itself from being on it's knees up onto it's feet. I was quite pleasantly surprised how safe I felt up there, despite my pathological fear of the creatures! My camel had a mind of it's own and when the rest had slowed almost to a stop, mine drove through them barging the others out of the way, seemingly happiest when moving, preferably at speed.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">The boys at the "instant market" waited patiently whilst we broke camp, and were justly rewarded as we shopped for our souvenirs before setting off for our next stop.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Overnight we'd managed to completely deplete our drinking water supplies, and were thrilled to stop at literally an oasis in the desert for drinks and to fill water bottles. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">We arrive at what our guide, Moneer describes as a small farm in Sabaloka, from where we are to visit the 6th Cataract of the Nile. The small farm turns out to be a thriving tourist spot, with a small zoo and plenty of seats and beds where you can take your rest. Moneer negotiates a very reasonable 300SDP for the 10 of us to take a boat trip to see the Cataract and camp by the Nile for the night. The scenery on the boat trip is simpley incredible; mountains, greenery and a small goat inhabited island, and of course the cataract itself, where suddenly the serene river broke into small rapids with very strong current.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1VzkFIo56QdAANWZUBkX2zK7PS1IqKgy0YGxlgECIS9xLQMcxJwtbi_6G4O02g5etG_HMnqxFqoJAJUpaJE3lDluhJEXgZo1aYlFlWwEHMI4LHKHJNNRmx_I5KEZ1hbG_c2MAxytnXvsN/s1600/DSC03369.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1VzkFIo56QdAANWZUBkX2zK7PS1IqKgy0YGxlgECIS9xLQMcxJwtbi_6G4O02g5etG_HMnqxFqoJAJUpaJE3lDluhJEXgZo1aYlFlWwEHMI4LHKHJNNRmx_I5KEZ1hbG_c2MAxytnXvsN/s320/DSC03369.JPG" /></a><span style="font-size: large;">Saddiq, the owner of the farm is a charming man, who has put a lot of thought and effort into his business. There is everything we need there and after sunset we have the place to ourselves for the night. The 6 of us set about preparing a meal, whilst the menfolk take their rest. Whilst our cooking skills are more than adequate, we have nothing but admiration for the Sudanese ladies ability to create amazing dishes from scratch in what seems like a relatively short space of time! We are concerned that the men will be disappointed with our efforts, especially as the meat part of the meal needs a lot more cooking so we elect to have it as supper! If they are disappointed they are too polite to say.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">After our struggles with the tents the previous night, we decide to put our tents up before the daylight starts to fade. It turns out to be a simple task, having practice in severe weather conditions the night before, so we are soon settling down for tea, coffee and sheesha relaxing by the Nile before bed. The bathroom facilities are amazing - fully plumbed in toilets with showers in little bamboo huts, a big step up from the "over that sand dune to your left and you're there" facilities of the previous night!</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Needless to say I wake up in the morning thoroughly looking forward to a shower - not to be disappointed!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">We break camp, pack up the van and head back to Khartoum, arriving around midday, thoroughly exhausted but elated from such an incredible experience. Hats off to tour guide Moneer Salih (moneerkush@yahoo.com), for organising the agenda, Suleman our tour bus driver, Omar for making it all happen and Billie for coming up with the idea in the first place. I think I can safely say that Christine had a 21st birthday celebration that she'll never forget.</span></div>
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<br /></div>Helen Lambhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09159307639469703505noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3425308936133138699.post-16198020834037282802012-04-14T11:24:00.000+02:002012-04-14T11:24:16.561+02:00Easter In Wad Medani<div style="text-align: justify;">
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At home in England the Easter weekend has always been a well deserved long weekend, usually spent at home chilling or catching up on all those jobs - it was certainly not a good weekend to take to the roads and go travelling! However one of the major advantages of living and working in a Muslim country is that travelling for during Christian holidays comes without the usual compulsory traffic jams and airport delays. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The View from the roof of the Continental Hotel</td></tr>
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I was invited to visit Jess in Wad Medani, along with Billie, Christine, Mary and Martha. Being the furtherest away with a 7 - 8 hour journey either way I decided to travel on Maundy Thursday arriving in Wad Medani around 3:30pm. I was a little anxious as I'd been very independent, booking my own bus ticket and getting myself to the bus station, totally relying on my very basic Arabic and any English the people around me spoke - although I did get my friend Rabha to read the details on my ticket and confirm they were correct! For me that was the easy bit - I have travelled from the local bus station a couple of times now and can easily walk there from my home. The challenge would be knowing where I was at the other end! The first leg of the journey is the same as the journey to Khartoum, stopping at Kosti for breakfast. After about 7 hours of travelling we approached the outskirts of a very large town, I started looking for clues as to where we might be, as I had when I first arrived in El Obeid seven months ago. There were many mentions of Al Jazeera on the few signs that were written in English but I couldn't see any mention of Wad Medani anywhere! Eventually we pulled into a large bus station called Al Jazeera Transportation, which my fellow travelling companions assured me was in fact Wad Medani.</div>
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Needless to say I was extremely relieved to see Jess walking towards me! We took a short amjad ride back to her colleague Selwa's house, where Jess had been helping Selwa prepare for our arrival. I had heard so much about Selwa, it was lovely to meet her at last - especially as she was every bit as lovely as I'd imagined! She totally dotes on Jess, treating her like a daughter and had invited us all to stay at her home whilst we were in Medani. Selwa's English is excellent and she is like an oracle - she knows so much about so many things! After a very pleasant afternoon, chatting, eating and meeting Selwa's family, Jess and I went to the Church to investigate the possibility of a Maundy Thursday service. The church was all locked up so we headed back to the Continental Hotel, where Jess lives. </div>
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On Good Friday morning Jess prepared a cake, whilst I relaxed on her very comfortable (if a little high!) spare bed. Then we went over to Selwa's where Jess baked her cake and we helped prepare breakfast before going and meeting the others who had arrived from Khartoum. After a fabulous breakfast, we spent a few hours gossiping with eachother, Selwa and her family before going to Church. Whilst we were sat in the service we'd noticed that many people were going outside for something - that something we soon found out was the opening ceremony for a new IT Suite in the Church school. Jess' friend Rose, kindly translated the opening ceremony, presided over by the Bishop of Wad Medani, who addressed us in perfect English.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihOWswt-QLv8BszW6vlgV7CUwNLAJ9n6s7lraMwJbei0g8aDi2hdZu360VkR40HydqU_66H3tpb19CXedeFDcwfsVG4vCvuOUffkW4m3ieX4cuBDL6DogtAAIbKzg8ZZOjnJGio9H8ISL2/s1600/DSC03220.JPG" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihOWswt-QLv8BszW6vlgV7CUwNLAJ9n6s7lraMwJbei0g8aDi2hdZu360VkR40HydqU_66H3tpb19CXedeFDcwfsVG4vCvuOUffkW4m3ieX4cuBDL6DogtAAIbKzg8ZZOjnJGio9H8ISL2/s320/DSC03220.JPG" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Bishop of Wad Medani opening the IT Suite</td></tr>
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Having spent 7 months in Sudan the importance and excitement of this new community facility was not lost on me - as one of my students beautifully described it - "The internet makes the world a small village." We take it completely for granted in the developed world, but having worked with university students who do not have easy access to computers or the internet, I realise now more than ever that technology holds the key to development and education in the developing world.</div>
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After church we enjoy a juice and the view across the Nile opposite Jess' hotel. Later that evening we join a group of Jess' friends further along the bank of the Nile and sit chatting and drinking tea as the sun goes down. For me this is such a treat - El Obeid is one of the furtherest places in Sudan from the Nile, and this stretch of the Nile in Medani is much more picturesque than in Khartoum. We return to Selwa's to be fed and watered - as if anyone could ever go hungry amongst the Sudanese people, who pride themselves on keeping you full and making you welcome! </div>
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Selwa gives us sheets and pillows and we settle down for the night. It is a very hot night and there are two spare beds by Selwa's in the yard. Jess and I are elected to sleep outside as neither of us are able to do so at home. I am so thrilled to be sleeping under the full moon and beautiful stars that I don't see at home due to the light pollution of living in a large town. It is such a fantastic end to a beautiful night.</div>
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When dawn breaks I wake up the coldest I've ever been since I arrived in Sudan, but it's a welcomed feeling! I pull my sheet tightly round my head and carry on sleeping for a few more hours, finally waking up when people are up and about and walking past my bed!</div>
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As Selwa has to go and give her condolences to a relative, she leaves us tea and biscuits and tells us to make ourselves at home whilst she is out. After an hour or so during which we slowly get ourselves up and dressed, Selwa returns and a hearty breakfast is prepared, after which we pack up our belongings and thank Selwa heartily for her fabulous hospitality.</div>
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We take our bags back to Jess' hotel and meet Tamador and her sister May who take us on a boat trip across the river to the beach on the other side where we paddle and splash each other in the water. There are lots of young boys swimming and its so tempting to just run straight into the water and get thoroughly soaked! Swimming is something I've really missed in Sudan - there is nothing like a refreshing dip in this heat! Sadly it's not the right time or place - there are places where ladies may swim but not in public. After playing around in the water for a bit, we soon dry out and take the boat back across the river and head to a cafe near the Jazeera University.</div>
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The cafe only opened the day before and is owned by a friend of Tamador's who insists on us trying out half the menu as his guests. So we happily sample Tiramasu and a range of delicious crepes before going back to Tamador and May's large and beautiful home, where we spend the night. Once there we meet Mirian, their other sister, and the three girls set about cooking a lovely meal for us all. It is a great girly evening with the six of us and the three sisters, who all speak excellent English. Tamador is a doctor and Mirian and May are University Students. Their older sister Selma has recently married and is in the area visiting a relative nearby and promises to stop by and visit, although it's quite late. Some of us are flagging by this stage and are forced to give in and go to bed upstairs in the guest apartment. </div>
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Being Sunday the next day, the girls are up and gone to work and university by the time we surface. Tea, cake and biscuits have been prepared for us to enjoy before we leave. As it's Easter Sunday we go to the Church for the service, which normally starts around 930am. However as it is a special service, today it begins at 10am. It is an amazing service, with lots of singing and excited trilling and clapping. Being a large group of foreign guests, we are invited up to the front to sing a hymn for the congregation! Luckily Jess' knows an easy one for us and we proceed to sing "We are marching in the light of god" to delighted cheers and clapping! Another truly embarrassing feat to add to my list of "Sudan Moments!" Thankfully we are the first of many groups of singers - the others of course much more prepared and harmonised than us with our impromptu performance! Most of the service is in Arabic, however we are lucky to have a member of the congregation translate the sermon for us over the microphone. In true Sudanese style this celebration of Jesus' resurrection is a little on the long side! There are songs, prayers, awards, rejoicing, praise and thanks and after around four and a half hours we finally emerge from the church.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lunch by the Nile</td></tr>
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We go for a very well deserved lunch at "Istanbul's" our favourite spot overlooking the Nile before setting off for the bus station to say goodbye to the Khartoum gang; Billie, Christine, Martha and Mary and buy my ticket home for the next day.</div>
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That evening Jess and I are invited out with Nelson and Monday, two Christian footballers from Uganda and Nigeria who go to the institute where Jess teaches in the evenings. We are treated to ice cream and visit a beautiful local park where we have coffee and ride the aerial cycle which is the most exercise I've had since arriving in Sudan, especially as Monday kindly lets me do all the pedalling!</div>
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I wake up the next morning pleasantly surprised to find that my legs are not aching! Then it's off to the bus station to catch my bus back to El Obeid.</div>
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There are some wonderful traditions in Sudan, and they certainly know how to put on a party!<br />
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Before a marriage takes place, the groom buys and prepares gifts which are taken to the bride and her family by his female relatives and friends. This is known as "shayla". Last week I was lucky enough to attend two!<br />
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The gifts consist of everything that the bride needs to start her new life with her husband; jewellery, clothes, shoes, make-up and toiletries together with the more practical things like charcoal, onions, flour and other foodstuffs to enable the brides family to prepare the various celebratory feasts. <br />
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There is also the dowry, which is beautifully displayed and wrapped. The brides gifts presented in a similar way; tobes (the tradition Sudanese dress) together with matching shoes and handbags wrapped together and all packed into a new luggage set. Could you imagine the average English groom completing this task successfully? I think every time my husband bought me an item of clothing it had to be returned or exchanged! One Christmas he bought me a set of lingerie, all be it he managed to get the right size for everything - but in order to achieve this, some of the set was white and the rest cream! And as for the English male's ability to gift wrap - Enough said!<br />
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Before heading to the brides home, the ladies at the groom's house get the atmosphere started with singing, dancing and drumming. The men's role in the proceedings is merely that of porter, organiser and chauffeur; waiting patiently outside for the women to complete their preparations, then organising them into the waiting transport.<br />
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The shayla is delivered to the brides home by a procession of cars and buses with horns blaring, crammed full of ladies trilling and clapping driving through the streets of the town from the grooms house to the brides via the longest route possible! You can often see and hear a Shayla procession wending it's way through the town especially at the weekend.</div>
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On arrival at the brides house, the Shayla party is greeted by the bride and her female relatives and friends and the gifts are brought in and displayed for all to see. Drinks and snacks are given to the grooms family and friends, after which they head back to the groom's house and continue the party!<br />
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Having attended a few occasions with them, I seem to have become an honorary member of Arsim's family - available for shayla's, weddings and other celebrations! Which is lovely as they make me feel completely at home in true Sudanese style and even ask after me when I'm not there - I can't wait for the next occasion, Arsim's wedding!</div>Helen Lambhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09159307639469703505noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3425308936133138699.post-75747560538231297852012-02-24T22:17:00.000+02:002012-02-24T22:17:37.999+02:00Visitors from Abroad<div style="text-align: justify;">
By the time I felt well enough to travel back to El Obeid, it was the last day of the semester at the university. As I felt more than a little guilty for taking what turned out to be an extended break in Khartoum, I decided to go straight to the Extra Institute when I got back, then call in at the supermarket on the way home to restock my fridge. </div>
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It was great to catch up with my friends in the Speak Out Club, even though I was tired from the journey. After we had finished our session I found out I was invited to eat with Mohammed, Hammid, Saleh and their guests from Ethiopia and Northern Ireland, who were visiting El Obeid as part of "Connecting Classrooms", a British Council Initiative. I suggested going home to freshen up and change, but Hammid insisted I looked fine and we set off to pick up the guests from their hotel.</div>
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This was the last night for the 3 guests from Ethiopia, who were travelling early the next day. All of the group had spent the last week visiting various schools in and around El Obeid, as Mohammed and Hamid had done on their visit last year to Northern Ireland. When we arrived at the "Roast House" restaurant we were joined by some of the teachers from the local schools, all looking very elegant in their colourful tobes - suddenly I felt shabby and grubby in the clothes I'd been travelling in all day. I had been to the Roast House many times, but I'd never been upstairs before or fully explored the menu! </div>
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One of the Irish guys, Russell had sausages - I haven't seen sausages since I got to Sudan - they were lovely! There was plenty of food everywhere in true Sudanese style. It was wonderful to see my friends being such fantastic hosts, their guests were truly bowled over with everything; the schools they'd visited, places they'd been and the way they'd been looked after and made to feel totally at home - things I suddenly realised had just become an part of my everyday life in Sudan. After a wonderful evening we said goodbye to the Ethiopian guests and wished them a safe journey home.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizPsqg0BO5ykjGMVc-ixCTfChWKZZdMSx-HJYMph5NTtbtDEDgax0QLWmlseu6VeG3XLZuLQ4KZCsgA3vYC6F4tdtmd6MNKONEHX2hA7mJROQW2SlWx5kNWDCnSfQJD7uIMghxK2s8ju9e/s1600/DSC03075.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizPsqg0BO5ykjGMVc-ixCTfChWKZZdMSx-HJYMph5NTtbtDEDgax0QLWmlseu6VeG3XLZuLQ4KZCsgA3vYC6F4tdtmd6MNKONEHX2hA7mJROQW2SlWx5kNWDCnSfQJD7uIMghxK2s8ju9e/s320/DSC03075.JPG" width="320" /></a>The next day I went to meet Mohammed and had a lovely breakfast at his home with his family before we headed off for a picnic. Our destination turned out to be not very far from my apartment, a beautiful spot at the local reservoir. It was the first time I had seen an expanse of water in El Obeid - I never knew such a place existed, and when I said as much to Mohammed's wife, she said she had lived in El Obeid all her life and not visited it either! Of course a picnic in Sudan is not just a small blanket on the ground, a few sandwiches and other cold foods - there were plenty of plastic chairs, large mats, salads, bread, agashay (meat cooked over coals), </div>
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cold drinks, fruit and tea. We spent a lovely day walking, chatting, eating and drinking before saying a tearful farewell to the Irish visitors. As I watched the emotional hugs and handshakes all I could think was, if it's this hard parting after 5 days, how will it feel saying goodbye to all these wonderful people after 9 months here? Luckily I still have 5 months to go before I have to worry about that!</div>Helen Lambhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09159307639469703505noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3425308936133138699.post-19404724296520574852012-02-11T13:30:00.002+02:002012-02-11T13:30:55.732+02:00Examinations<div style="text-align: justify;">
Just after I returned to El Obeid end of semester exams began. Suddenly the university seemed full of students carrying around armfuls of revision notes and wearing worried expressions. As there are no lectures I have a new role - typing exam papers!</div>
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A couple of days after my return I invigilated my first exam, which was held in one of the classrooms near to the English Office. Students were packed in like sardines with barely any space between desks, those who came late had to bring their own desks, and one poor girl didn't even have a desk as we couldn't fit any more in the room! </div>
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It reminded me of my own university exams, that feeling of complete dread, the echoing sports hall and the two cheery pensioner invigilators complete with flasks, snacks and squeaky shoes. Total silence abounded except for one occasion when the fire alarm went off and we were told "not to worry - that often happens - someone will let us know if there IS a fire!" People walking past the exam areas were castigated if they dared to speak let alone make some serious noise. You sat and waited with baited breath to be told you may begin, and kept a careful eye on the clock throughout the exam, dreading the words - Stop Writing.</div>
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In Sudan? - not a bit of it - Invigilating in Sudan comes complete with regular supplies; cups of tea and breakfast or lunch depending on the time of day. Students breeze in casually (some over half an hour late!) and start as soon as they get settle and have their paper. There is not a clock to be seen anywhere, from time to time the lead invigilator checks his mobile phone to see how long is left. Life outside the exam room carries on as normal - During that first exam there was a celebration outside for the opening of new water fountains, with speeches, cheering and clapping. I was about to go and complain on behalf of the students when someone bought me a lovely breakfast and told me to "take my rest." For the mature students, the exams take place in the large lecture hall at the Centre Campus of the University, just below the windows there are tea ladies where groups gather to engage in lively banter. Many students seem to finish the exams long before the time is up - at the half way point when students are allowed to leave, there is almost a stampede. Some students seem to prefer to "take their rest" during the exam, and will sit with their head on the desk seemingly asleep for an hour or so before springing into action towards the end of the time. After 3 weeks of invigilating; two exams a day on some occasions; I was glad of the diversion of travelling to Khartoum to attend an English Teaching forum.</div>
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A couple of days before I travelled to Khartoum I had been getting stomach pains again, and was considering seeing the doctor. However, I didn't want to miss the trip to Khartoum and felt well enough to travel so off I went. Luckily for me, my friend Mohammed from Extra was also travelling to Khartoum, so he kindly arranged my ticket and met me at the bus station so we could travel together. Not only did he manage to get me a discounted ticket for just 50SDP, but he also negotiated the price for my taxi to Billie's once we arrived in Khartoum. All the SVP gang were in town for the forum, so it was a great chance to catch up with everyone again. Unfortunately after the forum I was feeling unwell again, so Billie kindly took me to the doctors, where I was thoroughly examined and asked to take various tests. </div>
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Well, obtaining samples for tests is difficult enough at the best of times, but have you ever tried it whilst trying to hold your maxi skirt up above the hole in the ground toilet, concentrate on the job in hand and keep your balance at the same time? Mission eventually accomplished, I flushed the cistern and a great tidal wave of water surged towards me, completely soaking my skirt and feet! Great! And then to add insult to injury as I came out I noticed that the previously occupied next door cubicle had a standard toilet after all! Still nice to know that the samples were not produced in vain - I was diagnosed to have a parasitic infection in my stomach, and prescribed various drugs to clear up the problem. Just to be sure that there was nothing else serious going on they asked me to come back the next day for an ultra sound. Mary kindly accompanied me, complete with dictionary, should my diagnosis prove beyond the realms of normal everyday Arabic conversation! As it turned out we need not have worried as the Doctor had lived in Norwich for 14 years! Still at least Mary got to see some of the football whilst she waited for me! I was subsequently reassured that there was nothing major to worry about and I should soon start to feel better once the medication kicked in. Feeling just a tad sorry for myself, I then preceded to lay around Billie and Mary's apartment for a few days doing a very convincing impression of a dying swan until I felt up to chancing the 8 hour bus journey back home, feeling thoroughly grateful that I have such wonderful friends here!</div>Helen Lambhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09159307639469703505noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3425308936133138699.post-82415166859739358282012-01-22T20:44:00.000+02:002012-01-22T20:44:31.786+02:00Happy New Year, Independence and other occasions!<div style="text-align: justify;">
Much as I had a brilliant time in Khartoum, it was good to get back to El Obeid. People were so happy to see me back, even the man I just say hello to every time I walk past his house on my way the Extra Institute was delighted to see me!</div>
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Being in Khartoum for "Independence Day", we thought we might see some of the celebrations, however in true Sudanese style celebrations began after the actual day itself! Driving to work on my first day back in El Obeid, we passed a military mounted procession gathering. Lines of men on horseback, looking very smart in their traditional "Jalabias" bright white in the morning sunshine.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7aIcIGABPK_Qg8gjVg61jY8rNpiB48XHukZE0qNt6y8GO9h8LzM1MPexdZc9w4RD7m92hmPF9djh5sPuaTzoJUBLW9Odc7-EihWWLNAz896anDgDPwU3N02nkq8Ot0EtckhqSmiGT9uFE/s1600/DSC02986.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; display: inline !important; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: justify;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7aIcIGABPK_Qg8gjVg61jY8rNpiB48XHukZE0qNt6y8GO9h8LzM1MPexdZc9w4RD7m92hmPF9djh5sPuaTzoJUBLW9Odc7-EihWWLNAz896anDgDPwU3N02nkq8Ot0EtckhqSmiGT9uFE/s320/DSC02986.JPG" width="320" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span">Later that day I went to the main campus of the University to meet Hassan as Mohammed had told him I had returned from Khartoum "bankrupt"! They were staging a celebration to mark the Independence of Sudan from Britain in 1956. A group of students sang a number of traditional Sudanese songs, to which there was much dancing and cheering from the crowd of Staff and Students that had assembled to watch the proceedings. As usual I had found myself in prime position in the front row. Amongst the singing, speeches and poetry there was a lively drama, which was very entertaining, despite not understanding the dialogue! The portrayal of an English Gentleman Soldier was hilarious, complete with the clipped upper class accent. Little did I know at the time that I was yet to enjoy this celebration a further two times - at </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;">Khawr Teggat</span><span class="Apple-style-span"> on the Sunday and again at the Faculty of Education on the following Tuesday! Although each subsequent occasion had it's surprises - at Khawr Teggat, Hassan joined the students on stage and sang with them, which was great to see! And at the faculty of Education Mrs Helen was led up in front of the stage to dance in front of the crowd - to much cheering and clapping! If only they knew - in England several units of alcohol would had to have been consumed for me to make a public spectacle of myself like that! It was just lovely to share in the joy and celebration with my colleagues and students. One of whom gave me the best accolade "You are the best English/Sudanese dancer we have seen!"</span><br />
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That evening I met my friend at the centre campus for coffee. We could hear the sound of drums in the distance so we went off to investigate. There was a group of boys and a group of girls performing a dance around the basketball court. One of my students was nearby, and told us that it was a tribal celebration, welcoming new students to the university. The dance was very similar to the one I'd seen performed at the French Institute before Christmas - lots of fast footwork, as my friend Ness described it - a bit like shuffle! This time I did have my camera but the battery was dead! Seemingly I am not destined to record this for future reference! Though it was wonderful to be amongst the crowd, cheering and clapping, enjoying the spectacle.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdYpZdaQ04xyVQy2qqRqaVc27V2XkCTBqrer97pkZWMapPUnG7RBK0t_4jKv6JzEYJC65yegTZ2H27xz5mMkiqrulXFQHvt7iBzm2jW4ueIe92SwkThH62Ylf-wLkn_XfNBWofyp-1GnDK/s1600/DSC03007.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; display: inline !important; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: justify;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdYpZdaQ04xyVQy2qqRqaVc27V2XkCTBqrer97pkZWMapPUnG7RBK0t_4jKv6JzEYJC65yegTZ2H27xz5mMkiqrulXFQHvt7iBzm2jW4ueIe92SwkThH62Ylf-wLkn_XfNBWofyp-1GnDK/s320/DSC03007.JPG" width="320" /></a>On the Friday of my first week back in El Obeid, I went to a "circumcision celebration" for two adorable little boys - who's feet you can see in the picture! Like all family gatherings and celebrations, the ladies and men were separate for the occasion, and of course food was involved too! After a sumptuous breakfast, the boys were prepared for their celebration. Beautifully dressed in their jallabias, with their feet hennaed, they then had red ribbons tied round their heads, with a gold medallion at the front and sticks around the sides which gave them the appearance of crowns. Then an orange paste was applied to firstly their heads and then to everyone else's (including me!) The little boys obliged by punching the air in celebration to the delight of everyone there. There was lots of singing and trilling and at last - I have learned how to do it! So I can now trill with the best of them at all future celebrations! I just wish learning Arabic was that simple!</div>
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</div>Helen Lambhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09159307639469703505noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3425308936133138699.post-25566726498942073592012-01-07T22:16:00.000+02:002012-01-07T22:16:57.668+02:00Khartoum Capers!<div style="text-align: justify;">
After the excitement of Christmas Day we spent Boxing day relaxing around the apartment venturing out after dark for some delicious ice cream at a very swanky ice cream and cake shop appropriately named "Luxury" on Africa Street. It is easy to forget you are in Sudan in this part of Khartoum, as you can go for ice cream or a meal and hear English being spoken all around you and all the waiters seem to understand English much better than my broken Arabic!</div>
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The next day we start out with a plan to go to Souk Omdurman, then on the way back stop at Souk Arabi and see Paul the SVP coordinator. However, it takes us a while to get going (as is often the case here in Sudan!) so we have a brief shop in Souk Arabi after something to eat, and go directly to the SVP flat. Whilst we are out and about, Brent, calls and invites us out for something to eat. Given the choice of Fuul, The Yemeni Restaurant (where we have eaten many times), Pizza or Indian - the Brit in me straight away opts for the Indian! The Tanoor Inn, Khartoum 2 does not disappoint! The food and service is fabulous and the price is reasonable too. So having had a Chinese in Goa, I have now had an Indian in Sudan - what next?</div>
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My holiday in Khartoum seems to default into lazing around for most of the day then eating with friends in the evening - quite the opposite to my daily life in El Obeid, where I tend to spend my days at the University and my evenings alone in my apartment recharging my batteries!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLO_GmJ7wqXkmkxkQvhhHO7x2XGF08eJ9QecFYp6IsFy4any3hTW1tP1alNDyBJIda_6rck4LWY9hHxemtm0WCs3jFR64MppOzf5_4kFpF0s9bQJ0ERKvx_Wh_RmJJhUqwuYjPf4jI06zk/s1600/1164896-Neelain_University_Khartoum.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: justify;"><img border="0" height="228" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLO_GmJ7wqXkmkxkQvhhHO7x2XGF08eJ9QecFYp6IsFy4any3hTW1tP1alNDyBJIda_6rck4LWY9hHxemtm0WCs3jFR64MppOzf5_4kFpF0s9bQJ0ERKvx_Wh_RmJJhUqwuYjPf4jI06zk/s320/1164896-Neelain_University_Khartoum.jpg" width="320" /></a>Jess went back to Wad Medani on the Thursday morning and Billie was working at Neelain University (<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 15px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;">www.<b>neelain</b>.edu.sd/)</span></span> , so I decided to go along for the ride and see what Neelain is like compared to University of Kordofan. It is situated in a very nice part of Khartoum near to the Nile confluence (hence the name!) The building is quite spectacular, beautiful architecture much more in keeping with the style of some of the more traditional buildings in England. The lecture halls are similarly equipped although they have white boards, instead of chalk boards and the head of department shouts out of the window to order tea as they do at University of Kordofan. The difference being that the tea lady is downstairs and across a busy street! However, she happily brings the tea, just the same! I guess it's good exercise!</div>
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That evening we joined Christine, Brent and Rebecca at Ozone, a well known cafe where anybody who is anyone in Khartoum hangs out! I'd driven past it many times, but hadn't previously sampled it's delights! Whilst we were there I got a call from my friends Jenny and Paul to tell me they had arrived safely in Khartoum and would arrange for a car to come and pick me up in the morning. Billie, Mary and their friends were going to Port Sudan for New Year, but were happy to let me stay in their apartment for the duration of my stay in Khartoum.</div>
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It seemed surreal seeing Jenny and Paul sitting in the back of a car in Khartoum! The last time I'd seen Jenny was enjoying a meal with our dear friend Julie, in the Butchers Arms, Greens Norton (<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.thebutchersarmsgreensnorton.co.uk/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;">http://www.thebutchersarmsgreensnorton.co.uk/</span></a>)</span>, shortly before I left for Sudan. It was a wet August evening and I remember vividly the view out of the window and across the street - a quintessential English village view - houses and cottages and the church spire. I remember thinking "I don't suppose I'll see a view like this again for a while!" And here they were in Riyahd! </div>
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We spent a very pleasant day being driven around in their air conditioned car past some of the sights of Khartoum. I don't think Jenny and I really noticed them, we were just happy to be having a good old girly catch up! After our sight seeing trip we went back to Hotel Assaha, where Jenny and Paul were staying, for tea before getting ready to go to one of Paul's Sudanese colleague's weddings. The wedding was beautiful, a lovely mixture of Sudanese and English style wedding (Mohammed was bought up in Solihull!) Jess joined us at the wedding as she'd arrived back in Khartoum to celebrate New Year with Martha and Christine, so after the wedding Mustafa (the driver) kindly dropped us back at Billie's apartment.</div>
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On New Year's Eve morning I packed an overnight bag, as Jenny and Paul had kindly booked me into their hotel for the night (only one of the best hotels in town!) They arrived to pick me up with Mohammed, who is a business contact of Paul's, and we headed off to the Camel Market which is some way out of Khartoum. I had been to the local El Obeid Camel Market, but this one was much bigger and far more spread out. We were allowed into an enclosure with half a dozen camels, but we weren't allowed to take photos - presumably because these were top secret racing camels or something??!! After a bit of a wander round we went and had a very delicious breakfast of lamb and camel meat, with lashings of "Leban Up" to wash it down with. "Leban Up" is yoghurt mixed with 7 Up, and is not only very nice, it is said to aid digestion of the meat! I vow to start making my own at home!</div>
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When we get back to the hotel I go to register and check in - only to find that as I have Sudanese residency they do not need to hold on to my passport or fill in any forms! I take my belongings and the case of "swag" that Paul and Jenny have bought me over from the UK to my room and unpack. It's a good job that I've bought a large bag with me to take everything back to Billie's! The ever thoughtful Jenny has included some extra presents - body shop pink grapefruit body butter and emergency chocolates from non other than Hotel Chocolat, which I will try and keep as a treat for my birthday! The Hotel Assaha is famous locally for it's Lebanese Restaurant, and they had program of entertainment planned so they suggested that we didn't come down too late for dinner.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge9d4_XnFfnN0eoqHWcsF8U_4JBvXzLozLdthviiRVY7Nk4kNJQemguji-zLAcAqG9m-ONs8Kj3Q1Rbpju0j8c8IfSeLXFwWcFrVwWf04iK9K2_6efiwRyds22ge1zAav1uNuaO9vsTYr6/s1600/DSC02943.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge9d4_XnFfnN0eoqHWcsF8U_4JBvXzLozLdthviiRVY7Nk4kNJQemguji-zLAcAqG9m-ONs8Kj3Q1Rbpju0j8c8IfSeLXFwWcFrVwWf04iK9K2_6efiwRyds22ge1zAav1uNuaO9vsTYr6/s320/DSC02943.JPG" width="320" /></a>We had a relaxing drink together before going down for dinner. During which time we kept a watchful eye on the restaurant below, to ensure we managed to get a table! The food was excellent and as we were eating the restaurant filled up to full capacity and the entertainment began. There was music and Sudanese dancing. I had been pre-warned that New Year is not such a big deal here in Sudan, so was not surprised at the lack of countdown or cheering!</div>
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However there was a nice atmosphere, the music was good and we had sparklers!The biggest advantage was that you could send texts around midnight without any problem! In fact Karen rang me on the stroke of midnight, bless her, if she was hoping to hear a rowdy countdown and raucous celebrations, she would have been surely disappointed! At least we were able to have a decent conversation! Things quietened down further around 1am so we headed up to Paul and Jenny's room to stay up for New Year UK.</div>
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In the morning I treated myself to a bath, my first in over 4 months! Then I sat around in the fluffy bathrobe for a bit before getting ready to meet Jenny and Paul for breakfast. We decide to start the New Year with a walk and ventured out of the hotel to walk to the Blue Nile Sailing Club - another one of Khartoum's haunts that I have driven past many times but never been into. It turned out to be quite a long walk, so we are glad of a relaxing, well deserved Shay by the Nile, when we got there. We had hoped to find a boat trip to take us up to the confluence, but no such luck. Seemingly most of down town Khartoum was shut, it was a public holiday after all! The walk back seemed quicker, after which we treated ourselves to a drink at Ozone, where I bumped into a chap from the French Embassy whom I'd met in El Obeid - small world isn't it! </div>
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Later we went for dinner at Tanoor Inn (Paul and Jenny asked for my recommendation, it was good and I figured it'd be a while before I got the chance of another Indian!) Once again it did not disappoint! After the meal Mustafa dropped me back at Billie's apartment, where not only did I have the embarrassment of having the security guard insist on struggling up the stairs with my extremely heavy bag, I then had the shock of seeing a light under the door of the apartment! Luckily it was Mary and her parents back from Port Sudan and not burglars!</div>
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The next morning Mary kindly offered to come and help me get my bus ticket! Thank goodness! Her Arabic is excellent, so I could rest assured that I would be on the right bus, at the right time and the right day! Mustafa and Jenny came to pick us up and Mary explained in her brilliant Arabic where we needed to go. Once we got there he was a man on a mission, finding the same bus company that I'd travelled from El Obeid with and he and Mary sorted out my ticket, before we dropped Mary back home. Jenny and I met Paul for a spot of lunch at Ozone, where this time I bumped into Paul Fean! I find it so strange that I'm bumping into people I know all the time in Sudan, but back in Milton Keynes I can go all over the place without seeing a single familiar soul! After lunch we went back to Assaha where Paul and Jenny packed before going to the Airport. I have to admit I felt pretty emotional when we dropped them off - realising that they were going home to England which I wouldn't be doing for nearly six months yet! </div>
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When I got back to the apartment, Mary was busily cooking. We'd invited people round to spend my last night in Kharotum with us. Billie was back from Port Sudan too. My last night in Khartoum was spent eating all Mary's delicious cooking, chatting and smoking sheesha with Mary, Billie, Bob and Omar! A perfect end to a brilliant holiday!</div>
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Again I was up before Dawn Prayers the next morning - I'd booked an amjad to take me to the bus station at 6:30am for my epic journey back south! By the time I'd got on the bus I was looking forward to getting back to El Obeid, and it's slow pace of life! Kharotum is far too busy and expensive for me! I'd got barely any money left - Though it was worth every Sudanese pound to spend such a great time with fantastic friends old and new! I know I will always remember how I saw in 2012!</div>Helen Lambhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09159307639469703505noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3425308936133138699.post-38070746656874712102012-01-04T23:08:00.001+02:002012-01-06T22:13:59.162+02:00Khartoum Christmas!<div style="text-align: justify;">
On the 23rd December I got up in time for dawn prayers for the first time since I've been in Sudan. No I haven't finally found religion - I was catching the 715am bus to Khartoum and Hassan was coming to pick me up at 645am. I had no idea what my first Christmas away from home was going to be like, but I'd figured it was all the excuse I needed to take the long trip back to Khartoum, to see my SVP friends.</div>
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My friends at Extra had been laughing at me as I'd been fretting about the bus ticket for the whole week, worrying that they might sell out and I wouldn't be able to get to Khartoum for Christmas! In my mind I had visions of it turning out like one of those cheesy American "Home for Christmas" movies, where everything that could possibly go wrong on the journey does, although in my version I couldn't picture the happy ending! However, seemingly as long as you avoid travelling during Eid you can pretty much bowl up at the bus station on the morning you want to travel and you'll have no problems getting a seat. </div>
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Much as I was looking forward to seeing everyone in Khartoum I was dreading the bus journey.Spending ten hours on a bus without a toilet and only one stop halfway was not on my bucket list strangely enough! Still I needn't have worried as it was a relatively painless mere eight and a quarter hours, with a driver who wasted no time and ignored the speeding alarm constantly beeping all the way! By 3:30pm I am standing in the sun outside the bus station in Khartoum, waiting for Billie to arrive.</div>
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Billie rang and asked me if I was standing next to a Sudanese person, which made me laugh so much - I was the only white person outside the bus station! Of course I soon realised the reason she was asking me was that she'd got lost and a Sudanese man was helping her with directions!</div>
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It was so great to see Billie after all this time, and to know that Jess was on her way too. Billie's apartment in Riyadh (which is a very upmarket Ex Pat area of town) is amazing. Her bedroom alone is bigger than my apartment! At one point there were four volunteers living there together, but now it's just Billie and Mary, with Mary's folks in town for the festive season.</div>
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We had all been invited to Paul Fean's; a fellow SVP volunteer's house; for the big day and each needed to provide something to eat and a secret Santa present. So on Christmas Eve, after a nice long lie in we headed for the Ex Pat supermarket in search of edible goodies and then off to the mall for something for secret Santa. </div>
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Later on we had arranged to meet Martha and Christine at a Restaurant called "Solitaire" for something to eat before attending Midnight Mass at the Catholic Cathedral. We surprised ourselves by arriving relatively on time and found a nice table and settled down to wait for the others. After a fair few minutes of waiting with phone calls back and forth we realised that there were in fact two "Solitaire" restaurants in Khartoum! Martha and Christine were waiting patiently in the other one! So we went and hailed a rickshaw to take us to them, aware that time was moving on and we were all starving. </div>
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However, this proved to be no simple feat - we had picked the rickshaw driver who had just arrived in town and had no idea where anywhere was including Khartoum 2, a whole district! After he had stopped and asked for directions for about the 4th time we abandoned the rickshaw paid him something towards the petrol and got an amjad to take us there instead. By the time we arrived it was 11pm and Martha and Christine were just finishing off their meal so that they could get to the Mass in time. Luckily the service was very quick so Jess and I still managed to get to the Cathedral before the Mass started. </div>
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The place was packed, mostly by local people with a smattering of Ex Pat's here and there. Unlike in England the Mass actually started at midnight and went on until close to 2am! It was the most up beat "jingly jangly" Catholic Mass I have ever attended, although we were slightly disappointed by the lack of Carol singing opportunities. However we did manage a few versus of "Oh come All Ye Faithful" on two occasions! I finally fell into bed around 3am, feeling quite Christmassy at last!</div>
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On Christmas morning I awoke to find a card and present of a much needed Arabic book from Jess - bless her, she's so lovely and thoughtful. I also had another gift to open from my dear friend Rabha, who had given it to me the night before I left El Obeid - nice perfume which I have been constantly wearing ever since.</div>
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After a very relaxing start to Christmas Day, we set off for Paul's in the sunshine wearing tinsel with Billie carrying a small Christmas Tree she had made with the children at the Coptic Catholic School. On arrival we were greeted warmly by Paul and Brent who were waiting outside so that we could find the house.</div>
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The house was full of SVP volunteers, friends and family, with more friends arriving later on. We put our secret Santa presents under the tree and set to work in the kitchen preparing our feast. </div>
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My contribution was cauliflower cheese, to go with the roast chickens and stuffing provided by Brent and Paul. The table looked amazing, full of delicious food that everyone had made.</div>
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After dinner we played pass the parcel - which was new to both the Sudanese and Americans! It's amazing what SVP does for international relations! Then we opened our secret Santa presents. Mine was a beautiful handmade box with a two bank notes in it; one Sudanese and the other from South Sudan; which I know will prove to be a truly memorable souvenir in years to come!</div>
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I chatted to my mum and children on facebook and by telephone, although it was hard hearing their voices and not being there with them, knowing they were all happy too made my day complete. I also had calls and texts from my friends in El Obeid wishing me a Happy Christmas, which was lovely and unexpected, especially bearing in mind that it is not a day of celebration here in Sudan.</div>
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Christmas Day 2011 may have been spent thousands of miles away from dear friends and family, but all the friends I have made in Sudan since September made it truly wonderful in it's own unique and special way - I am sure I will always remember my magical Sudanese Christmas!</div>
</div>Helen Lambhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09159307639469703505noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3425308936133138699.post-75697092483067440012011-12-11T11:34:00.001+02:002011-12-11T22:10:12.346+02:00Comparisons, differences and a bit of cultural exchange!<div style="text-align: justify;">
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! </div>
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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.</div>
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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! </div>
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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! </div>
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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!</div>
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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!)</div>
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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. </div>
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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? </div>
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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!</div>
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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!</div>
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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.</div>
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<br />Helen Lambhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09159307639469703505noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3425308936133138699.post-25031219551843459402011-11-15T20:24:00.001+02:002011-11-22T21:25:19.175+02:00Celebrations and Festivals<div style="text-align: justify;">
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!</div>
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The week before Eid (<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 16px;"><em style="color: black; font-style: normal; font-weight: bold;">Eid</em> al-Adha </span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eid_al-Adha">http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eid_al-Adha</a>) 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."</div>
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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.</div>
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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!</div>
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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.</div>
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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!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTsSoeagxCdwEGLtEPr7wwzfGN1HyLpbixou-292RwGMMWa5LXMhVkI3CVDCbkzp4gGzh238RDqz6myK_n02pF2XeGS3sShquvGV5Hw1we797Dm72sejprkr1LhOSaX0TTo8ibg_FjvFsf/s1600/DSC02667.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTsSoeagxCdwEGLtEPr7wwzfGN1HyLpbixou-292RwGMMWa5LXMhVkI3CVDCbkzp4gGzh238RDqz6myK_n02pF2XeGS3sShquvGV5Hw1we797Dm72sejprkr1LhOSaX0TTo8ibg_FjvFsf/s320/DSC02667.JPG" width="320" /></a>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.</div>
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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.</div>
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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.</div>
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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!</div>
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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!</div>
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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!</div>
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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.</div>
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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.</div>
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Sudanese weddings are quite different from English</div>
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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!</div>Helen Lambhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09159307639469703505noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3425308936133138699.post-45765186704389695382011-11-06T19:00:00.002+02:002011-11-06T19:00:42.570+02:00Suddenly it feels like homeTechnology 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.<div>
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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!</div>
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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. </div>
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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!</div>
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A Donkey Water Tanker!</div>
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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!<br />
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!<br />
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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.<br />
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Breakfast of "bush" with the students</div>
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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!)</div>
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Everyone here is constantly going out of their way to make sure I am happy and have everything I need - I feel thoroughly spoilt!</div>
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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!"</div>
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My front gate</div>
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<br /></div>Helen Lambhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09159307639469703505noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3425308936133138699.post-53816781432438445312011-10-22T22:36:00.003+02:002011-10-22T22:36:56.823+02:00Reality 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 <span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-size: 15px;">Khawr Teggat</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #006600; font-size: 15px;"> </span>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. <br />
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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! <br />
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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.<br />
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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.<br />
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My New Bachelorette Apartment!</div>
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With the English Society at University</div>
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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.<br />
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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!Helen Lambhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09159307639469703505noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3425308936133138699.post-52058772473969885592011-10-17T18:57:00.001+02:002011-10-17T18:57:19.242+02:00Off to El ObeidAt 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 <a href="http://www.kordofan.edu.sd/">http://www.kordofan.edu.sd/</a>, 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.<br />
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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!<br />
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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. <br />
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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.<br />
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Nomad Huts </div>
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Hills!</div>
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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.<br />
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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).<br />
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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!<br />
<br />Helen Lambhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09159307639469703505noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3425308936133138699.post-5518795904169428902011-10-05T20:08:00.002+02:002011-10-05T20:11:37.707+02:00The 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<br />
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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.<br />
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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! <br />
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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!<br />
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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.<br />
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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.<br />
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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! <br />
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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.<br />
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<br />Helen Lambhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09159307639469703505noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3425308936133138699.post-20374857101761069262011-09-27T18:28:00.000+02:002011-09-27T18:28:15.101+02:00Settling InOne 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!<br />
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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!)<br />
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Jackson Bus Station, Khartoum</div>
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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!<br />
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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.<br />
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A view across the Nile from Tuti Island</div>
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Khartoum from the Nile</div>
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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!<br />
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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.<br />
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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!<br />
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The students are so warm and welcoming I now feel confident that I'm going to thoroughly enjoy my time teaching here.<br />
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Helen Lambhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09159307639469703505noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3425308936133138699.post-36189413403398945572011-09-19T19:18:00.000+02:002011-09-19T19:18:57.569+02:00First Impressions<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">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.<br />
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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!<br />
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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!<br />
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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.<br />
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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.<br />
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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.<br />
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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!<br />
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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.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLqDHPeXyHjNCLF1YJhTgsyYgbZR-Sy0trLdBJjHKQVwkAuaDwky6inUgSlfjR6QuWboVJPgy6w9Z9RcPniaJ-5oaaqHajTlzoWUNxxoiTuux_LkcuMVxMG5No61NceC9AtzxvcQa_eIRn/s1600/017.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLqDHPeXyHjNCLF1YJhTgsyYgbZR-Sy0trLdBJjHKQVwkAuaDwky6inUgSlfjR6QuWboVJPgy6w9Z9RcPniaJ-5oaaqHajTlzoWUNxxoiTuux_LkcuMVxMG5No61NceC9AtzxvcQa_eIRn/s320/017.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>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 <span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">he laughs and introduces himself as Momin, our host. The cheerful chap we'd met earlier turned out to be his brother Fadili!</span></span><br />
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</div>Helen Lambhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09159307639469703505noreply@blogger.com2Omdurman, Sudan15.542162705245419 32.45533670312515.409111205245418 32.353822203125 15.675214205245419 32.556851203125