Sudans Story Time

They say "a picture is worth a thousand words." So how about I give you a thousand pictures and two thousand words--a bonus present! 

South Sudan and Sudan time for me is usually fun, and this trip is no exception. But it is stretching on a bit longer than I'd planned because of visa stuff (this time, surprisingly, not at all related to any Canadian interference), and I'm worried about the revenge that will be meted out upon me by the lonely Felix. I've been told that he has been amazingly mellow since I've been gone, but that makes me wonder if he is saving up all of his malice for me. Baby-sitting this cat has affirmed to me why I do not have pets: my travel life is spontaneous and frequent. Planning for someone to come and make sure the cat stays alive while I'm gone and does not tear the whole house to shreds is not easy. While I do want a pet (preferably a giant cuddly dog), I do not have a stable life. It's also why I cannot adopt any children at the current moment. Fortunately, as you will see, my friends have lots of cute kids that I can use to curb that maternal instinct. 

On to stories:

An Arabish pun. If you speak Arabic, you'll get it.
I thought it was kind of clever, but I am
someone who really appreciates car art and car slogans.

After figuring out a plan to counteract the visa issues caused by Canadians, I had to quickly change all my previous travel engagements, moving everything up a day. This had the unfortunate consequence of making it imperative for me to take public transport from Juba to Yei, a journey of about 5 hours over roads riddled with craters and fraught with armed bandits. For real. My boss called me nearly in tears begging me not to go. He reminded me that at this time last year I was running through the jungle because "I didn't listen to the voices inside my head telling me to leave." That is a paraphrase, not a direct quote. To be fair, I did listen to the voices, and I tried to leave, but MAF couldn't get there before the fighting started. Anyway, he never actually told me that I wasn't allowed to go by road and so we never found out if I would have obeyed his direct order. But I took necessary precautions: I left my expensive and important things in Juba with a friend (it's actually pretty entertaining to think through which of your possessions you would be ok with having robbed from you at gun point), and I wore a tan hat. I theorized that the beige color of the hat would match my skin, making it look like an outfit and not a rich khawaja. It must have worked because we were not hijacked.

The criss-cross of knees in the back of the car.

I climbed into the car, large mostly-empty bag clutched between my knees. I was on the edge, by the door. This is the worst spot for bouncing, but I like to be by the window, so I don't mind it too much. I like to look out and admire the scenery. But no one else seemed intrigued by the green green grass and pretty mud houses. Amazingly, several people actually slept on this ride, heads bobbing around. But I was most impressed by the man who stayed asleep even after we hit one more pronounced bump that sent my butt two feet up in the air. I was weightless for one moment before crashing back down. I looked across the car, and everyone was awake except for that one dude. I mean, seriously. He was that cool. Didn't even open an eye. I, on the other hand, ended up with bruises on my elbow and shoulder from crashing into the door and didn't enjoy the sensation of sitting down for several days after the journey. Did you know, your teeth really can rattle in your skull? I can testify.

And now prepare for photos of Repent's adorable kids because I like them so much. And they LOVE having their picture taken. And also playing with the Guitar Tuner app on my phone.

How cute is Halina? There is no answer.
But her head was covered in ringworm, which I fully
thought I would contract due to proximity and kissing her
all over her little face every day, but so far I'm good.
I got ringworm once from a little boy who
leaned his head on my arm and fell asleep on me
in the Mundri Express a couple years ago, but
this time I seem to come through OK.

Joy told me that the kids were running to every car that
passed by their house for 2 days looking for me. :)

Oliver is not sure he likes how he looks with khawaja hair.

Pulling on my skirt.

I spent too much money on this doll-more than
it was probably worth, anyway. It is all cloth and seems like
someone who knows how to sew (i.e. not me) could easily
make it. But last time I was in SSudan, I was searching for
a doll for Halina, who was rolling up clothes and pretending to
rock them in imitation of her mother with her baby brother.
I didn't even find one of those horrifying white-kid dolls,
but I didn't want to buy that for her anyway. I was happy
to find this doll, which I liked, in the airport in Ethiopia,
and I'm glad I got it. She LOVED it. She carried it
around everywhere and woke everyone up screaming when
she couldn't find it next to her in bed. A toy that one kid
loves that annoys the rest of the family=SUCCESS!

Laundry drying in South Sudan.
I'm going to post lots of photos like this on Neverthirst instagram.
I do not have my own instagram because my life cannot involve
too many social media platforms and I'm already used to Facebook
(I'm old).
But I like to look at the followers for our Neverthirst page, and
I get really competitive about it, so follow Neverthirst on instagram, OK?

Painting Halina's toenails. She is very serious about it.

Gadi and Oliver and the cheap plastic
car I bought the boys in the market in Yei.
I had to buy them something, since I got the doll.
I predicted it would break the first day, but it's still going strong!
Made in China.

Painting Tabu's toenails. I actually brought the
nail polish because I wanted to bond with her.
She works so much, I don't often see her play, and she's only 10!
But this time, she really relaxed around me and we had fun.
She is beautiful, just like her gorgeous mom.

That's the kitchen in the background.
I had some amazing food, cooked by the wonderful Joy.

And then the boys insisted on getting their toenails painted too.
So we did. Because why not?
I can't remember who took this photo, but it's too bad
you can't see that I'm painting Ruben's toes here.

Jungle-running friends!

And sometimes you got to put three people on a motorcycle,
and go to work. We took this motorcycle-selfie, so
you can't tell that we are on a motorcycle at all, but I can testify that
we were, and my butt still has a dent in it from the metal bar
on the back of the bike.

Yes, I took this photo of the chicken with her babies all lined up.
I took it for my nephews and nieces, but I haven't sent it to them.
Maybe my sisters will show their kids this photo on the blog.
Meanwhile, you all can enjoy this photographic masterpiece.

We happened by this flipped over car on the road.
No one was hurt, so I took the photo.
It is a good reminder of why you should always pray
for me when I'm traveling because this could easily happen
to anyone driving too fast over dirt roads.
And of course, everyone drives too fast over dirt roads,
even me.

New baby goat born just an hour before this photo!
(Also intended for the nephews and nieces)

I think Ruben took this beautifully centered photo.
I like it because Tabu and I are bonding while Halina tries
to rub her ring-worm head all over my face.
This is Repent and Joy's room behind me and behind their house,
is the tukel I stay in (mud painted green and blue with grass roof).

Of course Oliver is a happy baby--he's Repent's kid!

Oh I love these crazy boys. I want them to grow up in
a peaceful country, go to university and have happy successful
families--like their own happy family, but without having to
run to the jungle to get away from fighting.
I want them to have a future and a hope.
And I want to buy them lots of candy. I can't help it.

The open road! Isn't this a beautiful country?

I love riding miles into nowhere and suddenly you see some grass roofs
popping up behind the elephant grass, and you know that people are out here,
living and working the land. I want to see development come to South Sudan,
but I hope they don't lose all of their traditions. I don't really like calling these houses
"mud huts" (though I probably have done that before, even here on this blog). They
are beautiful houses, most of them made with care. And they are cool in the summer time,
and the rain falls softly on their grass roofs, not loud and angry like tin roofs (though I also like that),
obscuring conversations. Repent pointed out the rain thing to me--he likes grass roofs too.

I love this photo. Joy is a beautiful and wonderful mother.
I bought that outfit for Oliver. I searched every shop in the
market in Yei to find one selling clothes for babies that
were new and clean. Youngest babies spend most of their lives in hand-me-downs,
but Oliver has a new cute outfit just for him.
And he is too much cute.

Gassing up the motorcycle before our trip from Morobo to Yei
(about 2.5 hours). Just prior to this we were warned that
a motorcycle traveling the same route the previous day
had been hijacked. So we watched the road carefully ahead of us,
and we made it. I wasn't even wearing my hat!
(I learned the hard way that you don't wear hats on motorcycles.)

I got to see my good friend Mary and her new baby in Yei.
We went to church together in Mundri and she was one of the
few who actually came over to my house occasionally to hang out.
She is now living in a refugee camp in Yei. 

"Be at the airstrip at 8:00am" said Momentum Air ticket.
The plane arrived at 1pm. Even with the flight only taking 30 minutes,
I would have arrived in Juba earlier if I had just taken public transport again.
Oh well. Yei is scenic.

Got to hang with this guy in Juba! He is back in South Sudan after spending the last several years studying in
the US. He left behind the good life to go back and help build up his country. I'm proud of him,
but I know that it won't be easy. Once you live somewhere else, it enters your heart, and you change
and your home changes, and you will always miss somewhere you're not. But it's worth it to have a bigger heart.
I think so, anyway.  

After I got back to Juba, I went back to immigration and waited hours in line to finish a bunch of stupid paperwork. But I didn't wait as many hours as the other khawajas who do not know how to cut in line. Suckers. I overheard one guy standing in line quietly like a moron on the phone with someone, "I've been here for hours but I still haven't been able to pay. I can't get to the window and people keep going in front of me." Poor little American boy. He didn't want it enough, I guess.

In the end, a combination of Arabic and mostly non-existant Moru got me through. And many prayers and somehow Badr Airlines got me to Khartoum. Khartoum has been hot, dusty, and often without electricity. But I found gummy bears in the store, so who's complaining?

Also, I've realized that the Asian is strong in me these days. On my way to Morobo in a small taxi sedan, I was sitting up by the driver and I said something about how he must have gotten his car from Uganda because it has a British-side steering wheel, though South Sudan decided to go with the Sudan system, which is American-side. He looked over across the man whom he had sat down on the armrest in the center of the car, between whose legs he was calming shifting gears, and said, "Oh, what side of the road do they drive on in China?"

I was a bit startled because I didn't know that he was aware of the time I had spent in that country, and I didn't want to assume that he assumed I was from China. I said, "It's the same as South Sudan and America. Do you think I am from China?"

"Yes," he said. "How do they drive there?" We continued to have a conversation about China, and I never enlightened him as to my actual origins.

Fast-forward to the shop I was at the other day, talking to the man selling dates that I'm going to have to buy as presents for people in Chad. "So you're Japanese, right?" he said to me, after telling me the price of the dates.

"You think I'm Japanese?" I said, smiling.

"Yes, you look Japanese. You mean you're not?"

To be fair, though, all us Asians look alike. 

Shopping with Abdelrahim. Last time I went shopping  here it was with Abdelmukaram.
Once I went to this souq with Selma.
I don't want to gender-stereotype, but I'm going to.
I have to admit that here, I would much rather shop with men. Selma walked my legs off in this souq.
This is the Selma who collapsed on the floor after 5 minutes of yoga and laid there for 30 minutes.
I thought I'd killed her. But she killed me in the souq.
I am not a huge shopper. I like to know what I want, go in, and get it, and get out.
Shopping with Abdelrahim and Abdelmukaram was great. Once they knew what I wanted,
they helped me find it, helped me bargain down the price, and helped me find my way out because I was
completely lost in the maze of shops.
Look how nonchalantly he stands in this lingerie store where I was buying a jacket.
For real--I was buying a jacket! I don't know why there is also lingerie hanging around.

I have enjoyed screen-shotting the weather here. It's mostly impressive if you look at the time it was when it was 113/45, 106/41, 100/38.

I still managed to buy ice cream and walk home before it melted.
And then eat it for dinner.

And we had no electricity, so no AC or fans.
But it was NOT clear at all--it was a raging dust storm.
Stupid App.

Finally it updated, hours later, to show the dust storm.
It didn't do it justice.

Can you see my footprints?
I took photos once the electricity came back on.

The dust always blows in under the door.

Usually you go to the bathroom to get clean, but not this time.

Should have put a cover on my toothbrush

I told you that I appreciate car art.
This one says: Don't forget to remember God.
Such a grandiose slogan for such a non-descript car.

Zuhoor's beautiful new baby.
She is called Ashaq--starts with an ع ends with a ق,
two of the hardest letters to pronounce for an English speaker.
I was entertained by Paul and Almaz trying to say it.
But more by how patiently Zuhoor repeated and repeated it for them,
as if she expected them to be able to get it right. 

Me and precious Baby.

The beautiful Almaz and baby Ashaq, who is
enamored with Paul, not pictured.
On an unrelated note: Almaz makes amazing Ethiopian/Eritrean food.
Paul just admitted it is how she won his heart. But I mean, he's an Irish guy from
Boston, so it probably wasn't that hard.
In conclusion, I work with interesting people.

It takes a long time to write thousands of words and post thousands of pictures. I'm finally done and I'm going to go eat Cheezballz for dinner. The first day I got here, I was sitting in my room naked (because no electricity and it was 115/46 outside) also eating Cheezballz. The electricity came back on, and I thought, "Should I put on some clothes now? Nah. I'm eating Cheezballz." And the moral of the story is "Eat Cheezballz. Wear clothes if necessary."

Sudan Life Moments

As I prepare to go back down south via a short stop-over in Zanzibar, please enjoy some photos representative of my awesome life in Khartoum, courtesy of my Kiwi friend and her Aussie husband for whom I am house and dog sitting this weekend--because their internet is actually working, unlike the internet at my house/office… Fair dinkum!

But is this really necessary, Australians? Seriously. A vegemite plate? Come on. Also, note: no photos of the dog because he is still hiding under the bed terrified of me, even when I use my best Kiwi accent to try to convince him to come out. Maybe my actual Kiwi friend will have more luck when she comes to visit this arvo. Another note for Australians: that word is marked as misspelled by every computer, phone, tablet, etc. in the universe, but that never stopped you so why should it stop me?

Nile fish! Did I already post a photo of this last time I did a lazy photo post? Probably. This fish is good, but best of all is the peanut butter chili sauce in the middle. I mostly just ate that whole plateful by myself.

Khartoum is kind of hot, but no worries--you get sprayed with water while enjoying outdoor dining at most fine establishments. It is refreshing. It might not be so great for your makeup, but I don't wear makeup much, so I can't really say for sure.

Closeup is the most exciting toothpaste brand ever. I've tried chocolate, choco-mint, herbal, orange,  and now Fire-Freeze! I also bought coffee flavored toothpaste for my sisters for Christmas once, but they rejected my gift. Fire-Freeze has been slightly disappointing. Advertisements say that it should warm and cool your mouth, but unless my teeth are really not sensitive to heat or cold (which is a good thing, right? Who needs dentists!), then it does nothing but taste like tangy mint. I don't recommend it, but it came with a mini free deodorant, and I can't resist tiny free things.

We have been having a lot of power outages recently so when my electricity went out, I didn't think anything of it. Then I went out the door and noticed that only my floor was missing power. I went up to Leif's floor, but he still had power. We realized that someone had forgotten to pay the electric bill for the floor that I am staying on, and that could not be fixed until the next day. So Leif, who has lived in Africa for more than 30 years and has a creative brain, decided to rig up a small electrical system for me. Using a string of extension cords connected to an outlet on his floor, we brought in a strip of plugs for a lamp and charging my phone. He said, "Let's make your AC work because you have it and you are in Khartoum, so you need to enjoy it while you can." He then whipped out some extra electrical wire and some pliers and wire cutters and rigged up a nice dangerous plug. Then he plugged it in and blew up the power strip. Undeterred, he tried again with my fan (pictured below) and broke it. But still-he is impressive and it's not his fault that they didn't work. It's probably because we have really flimsy power cord extensions here.

Anyway, Leif is my Swedish Captain Roy. He's so cool. European men with beards who travel the world--they are fun to hang out with (though, yes, I know that people from the UK don't like to consider themselves European. Don't worry about it--embrace your continent, UK. At least neither you nor Sweden jumped on the Euro bandwagon). We had a nighttime rooftop picnic of pizza, brownies, and coconut ice cream, and Leif told me about dodging bullets in Somalia, cars being swept away while fording rivers in Kenya, and that one time when he was on a road trip in the Northwestern US, and they drove up to Canada where "those cowboys are guarding the border." Thanks for your commitment to border safety, Canadian Cowboys!

My friend's Beja mother-in-law making traditional coffee in a jabane, or however you transliterate that. I don't love coffee, but I did love her, and the cups are tiny, so bottoms up!

They stuff some hairs from a date palm (or some kind of tree, but I think she said date palm) in the spout of the jabane to strain out the coffee grounds.

Entrepreneurs in Khartoum make the most of prime retail opportunities. Have you ever been sitting in traffic wishing you had a fishing pole and a new rug for your house? These guys knew that, and they have filled that market niche.

Sitting in traffic, I noticed this sign. But what I found most intriguing is the sticker with the word "trust" on it, which is pasted over….WHAT? I don't think that this is aplace..you can trust.. if you don't even know what was originally written on that sign.

I went to Starbox! See the photos on my FB page. If I liked coffee, I would totally have gotten the Mocha Frappudno. Though I end up drinking coffee a lot here, often by accident. At a coffee shop near my house called "Chocolate House," a friend and I ordered hot chocolate--it was on the menu in Arabic and Amharic (it's an Ethiopian run establishment). When I ordered, the waitress said, "You mean the cappuccino?" I said, "No. I want the hot chocolate. I don't want coffee." 

"So you want coffee instead?"

"No. I want chocolate. I don't like coffee. I don't want coffee. Please bring me the hot chocolate."

"OK, well cappuccino is what we call 'hot chocolate.' It's the same thing."

"Not technically. But your "cappuccino" is only chocolate? No coffee?"

"Our cappuccino is chocolate. It's not coffee. Unless you want coffee."

This conversation went a few more rounds, but ultimately, we convinced her that we wanted hot chocolate cappuccinos. She then brought us regular sugary coffee cappuccinos, which we drank anyway. Because--we paid for it. 

But at Starbox I had the Cookies and Cream Frappe, which was good. No coffee added.

Even in civilized Khartoum, sometimes one can be sick and need to lie around in bed all day. And honestly, I'd rather be sick in Khartoum than Mundri…and our internet was working that day so I had the following important conversation with my mother:

Look at my friends/colleagues' cute babies!

Malek wasn't smiley while trying to grab my phone, but when I put it away she pranced around grinning at everyone. Of course that way I couldn't get any photos of her...

Fares is a hilarious not-afraid-of-khawajas kid. He plays Angry Birds like a pro.

 I went to Souq Omdurman with Sally and Sahnon (parents of the above adorableness). Sahnon needed Sally to help him pick out acceptable cloth for his new Eid clothes. She did so with great depth of knowledge. I took photos of the men's side and the women's side of the cloth store. 

Clearly, women win everything. Our side is way better.

After shopping, we went to KFC! Finger-licking good, and check out the Sudanese version of the Colonel. He never looked better.

While in KFC, I noticed this young girl and her favorite toy. It is slightly disturbing to see a child carrying the decapitated head of a beloved doll with her into a fast food establishment, but truthfully, I think we would have been good friends had our childhoods coincided in time and place.

Now that I've started driving everywhere, autos are the bane of my existence. They zip in front of me and then putter along and speeds that make me downshift to second. I hate being in second. So when I see happy "no autos" signs, I'm totally OK with them. But of course, no one ever pays attention to signs. Just like giant trucks in America that are supposed to stay at 55mph while everyone else can go 65mph. Of course regular-sized cars are not expected to maintain such a paltry speed, but trucks should have to follow the rules! And autos should have to take alternative dirt roads or find a way to drive faster!

But don't do away with them all together because many of them are artistic masterpieces. Check out this one with the head of Minnie Mouse on a pike, bobbing along on top of the roof. It should be on display somewhere. 

This is my last auto photo. Check out the location of the windshield crack. Observe the placement of the bandage on the driver's head. What can we deduce from this photo?

I like coconut. I like almost everything about it. So I decided to make brownies with coconut oil that I found in a shop here. Yes, I bought the coconut oil in the beauty products section of the store, but it has nutrition facts on it too, so I assumed that it was edible. I made brownies. Yes, I ate them straight out of the pan with a fork--you have no right to judge me. But here is the point of this story: first, I noticed that the coconut oil smelt like a campfire. I don't think this is normal, but it was a bit concerning. But I thought, "Well, maybe it needs to be cooked." So I made the brownies. Then I ate them. I noticed that they now smelt like a chocolate campfire--not a horrible smell, but not one usually associated with brownies. I ate them anyway. The taste was not horrible, but after eating a few bites I noticed that my tongue felt a bit fuzzy and everything tasted like metal. But cocoa is expensive so I ate them all anyway. So--can coconut oil go bad? Is it a coincidence that a few days after the brownies I was having the above screenshotted iMessage conversation with my mom? So many mysteries...

 A few weeks ago I got a message from my mom: "Is it really 59 degrees over there now?"

My answer: "Of course not. It's 37 degrees."

We can have conversations in multiple measurement systems because I know she was in Farenheit and she knows I was in Celsius, but one thing we agree on is that Yahoo is a terrible place to get weather information. Not only did we not have 64F weather and thunderstorms throughout the city of Sudan the day I took this photo, but also--SUDAN IS NOT A CITY. The weather in Khartoum is not the same as Geneina or Kadugli or Port Sudan or El Obeid, and Yahoo--you are stupid.

But at least Yahoo doesn't discriminate because I also got this weather report last time I was in the city of the United States. Hope you enjoyed your 27F weather, Hawaii! Don't let the 'partly cloudy' keep you out of the water! Alaskans definitely won't.