Fast and Furious: Darfur Sand Drift

My preferred method of transportation

I hate driving. I find it very stressful. Maybe this is because it's forever associated with reverse-culture shock for me when I had to get my driver's license the year I went back to the States for college. Everyone else my age had been driving since they were 15, and knew things like 'how to put gas in one's car' and 'why one should never get out of the car when one is going through an automatic car wash.' Also, I failed my driving test the first time I took it. It is the only test of any kind that I ever failed, and the reason I failed was because there was a police car stopped by the side of the road, and I drove AROUND him (it seemed logical to me, having grown up in Indonesia where one avoids police officers and their inexorable avarice at all costs). Apparently, though, I was supposed to stop and wait for him to drive away first instead…who knew? All of you law-abiding American citizens probably… Whatever the reason, I avoid driving whenever possible, and it's usually possible because I live in places with public transportation (It's a thing, America!). Otherwise, I get whoever is with me to drive, whether it's my eight-months-pregnant baby sister or my grandfather who hit a deer twice in a week once and nearly killed us 5 times in a 2 hour drive from Philly to DC. But driving is still a useful skill to have, and it came in handy for me because…

This camel comes with a gun-look under my foot (just in case)

I went for a drive while in Darfur. I can’t get into the details of why this happened for various and sundry reasons that could cause problems for various and sundry peoples, possibly including myself.  Although, if I were the only reason, I’m sure I would not let myself stand in my way of telling a good story—priorities, you know. Anyway, with that confusing disclaimer, I ended up being the one with the car, the keys to the car, and the ability to drive the car. The previous day I’d been given ‘permission’ to take the car to the nearby souq to get food for Friday, when everything was going to be closed except the main marketplace. I was told I could go with the cook if I needed anything. So when another situation came up that required the car, I just went off that previous permission, grabbed the keys, took photos of myself holding said keys to psych myself up, and then hitched up my skirt and awkwardly hauled myself into the truck. It was one of those trucks where there is no moving the seat forward. And we were in one of those driveways where misjudging by a few centimeters can cause you to crash into a drilling machine or some PVC pipes. (You know those kinds of driveways…) I managed to back out successfully, not hitting the donkey cart or sauntering man behind me and only killing the engine once, when I was trying to get the feel of the old rust bucket’s clutch.

I was then directed to drive down a series of sandy, bumpy roads, dodging children, goats, cows (it was almost like being in India again, except there I was riding a bike and I only hit a cow ONCE), horses, donkeys, dogs, sheep, and piles of trash. There was one random stretch of paved road where I got up to 4^th for a while, and that was kind of fun—less bumpy anyway. And it didn’t feel like I was driving at the beach, trying to hold the tires straight in the sand, like it did elsewhere. I also got up to 5^th at another time, but it was an accident, as I meant to go into 3^rd, but didn’t catch it right.  The truck was very upset with me, and I apologized profusely, and stayed mostly in 2^nd after that to make up for it.

That is definitely my nose and open mouth--
thanks passenger for the plethora of photos of me driving.

At one point we were driving through a very narrow marketplace, on a sandy bumpy road, and the person with me noticed my concern, so I said that I was just really worried about hitting someone. This led to an opportunity to learn the difference in the Sudanese word for ‘to crash into someone with one’s car’ versus the Levantine word (which is funny, apparently) for the same unfortunate accident. 

'Concentration' face

'Please don't let me hit that donkey' face

On our journey, we stopped outside a little shop and picked up a couple of passengers. While we were stopped, my truck, parked with the particular reckless abandon of one who just wanted to stop driving and get out of said truck, got pinned in by two annoying little cars. Seriously. One of them was red.  Red cars think they’re better than everyone, but they’re just stupid and bad at parking. Still, we had to leave, and I know there was room to slowly maneuver up and around and back and over to get out, but also there were people around…sitting on the curbs with their feet in the street and sheep meandering around behind me. The stress of this caused me to kill the car 3 times while trying to reverse slowly in the sand. At this point, one of my helpful passengers piped up from the back, “I think you are not a professional driver.” Thanks for the confidence boost, person who can’t drive… But he is not wrong…

'I think I'm going to maybe make it home alive' face
(I took none of these photos but I didn't think they should go to waste)

Here are some photos this not-professional-driver took from behind the wheel (another reason why I should not be trusted with cars, though I never took photos when I was close enough to hit anyone or thing), and others that another helpful passenger took. And some others that happened at other parts of the Darfur trip that are interesting and have nothing to do with anything else in this blog post.

I took this photo while driving--multi-tasking.

I took this photo and also did NOT hit that donkey cart. I'm a genius.

Meat and police escort--this was our manly meat-plate lunch.
I ate a piece of almost-cooked goat meat.
It took me all of lunch time to chew it.

Cute kids helping their families gather water
and staring at the crazy khawaja

Getting water from a hand-dug well

A lady dropped her bucket in the well and this nice guy climbed down to get it for her.
I chronicled the whole thing on my phone while yelling down at him to be careful.
People were very entertained by my concern.

Collecting water for their animals

Another hand-dug well with colorful ladies

Camels keeping each other cool--they are such caring creatures.

We were greeted by enthusiastic horsemen who raced alongside us,
cheering and waving. It was super fun. My job is the best.

The beautiful ladies surrounded me and sang songs. I was only a little terrified. 

My camel-riding friend. We talked about how cool it is to be
people who ride camels and how horses are stupid.

The town meeting. I like these people. I should move here.