A Little Life Perspective

So I had a life-changing dinner the other night. The food was excellent but it was the company that made the night memorable. I work with lots of interesting people and one of the real joys of my time here in Khartoum has been working with such a diverse group of folks. One of my fellow teachers is a guy about my age from Eritrea named Daniel. Since the school year is coming to an end, he tried to get some of the teachers together for dinner last Saturday night. As tends to happen with these things, lots of people said they would like to come but then couldn’t actually come for one reason or another. Anyways, it ended up being just me, Daniel, and another teacher named Linda. A little background on Linda: she is originally from southern Sudan but left when she was young and spent most of her time growing up in America. She is now an American citizen and if you spoke with her, she sounds like an American.

We enjoyed a very good meal at an Ethiopian restaurant (there are a lot of Ethiopian restaurants in Khartoum and the food is incredible) and then had a pleasant conversation after the meal over some delicious coffee. Anyways, we started talking about why we came to Sudan and that’s when things got really interesting. Thank God Daniel asked me first because I would have felt silly answering that question after hearing their stories. After telling them how I wanted to experience a different culture and really challenge myself by coming to Sudan, I asked Daniel the same question. If you’re not up on Eritrean politics, the country has a brutal recent history. After a 30 year war with Ethiopia, they finally achieved their independence in the late 90s. However, the new military leadership imposed an authoritarian government. While the people of this war-torn country lived in extreme poverty with little opportunity, the president created a law that prevented Eritreans from leaving the country. Also, every Eritrean male is drafted into the army after finishing high school. Back to Daniel’s story, he got very good grades in high school so he got a deferral from the army to attend college. After finishing university, he was then forced the join the army. He was serving with the Eritrean army near the Sudanese border and he decided along with some friends that they had had enough and were going to escape. They were familiar with the patrols in the area so one night they took off with what food and water they could carry and headed for the border. They travelled by night and rested/hid during the day because the border patrols are authorized to shoot to kill any Eritreans trying to cross the border. After three days of walking through the mountains, they made it through to the Sudanese desert and eventually found their way to a refugee camp. He was given refugee status and came to Khartoum to look for work. It took him some time to find work but then Cambridge basically hired him on a probationary status and he has been working there for almost a year. He is only making $300 a month (which made me feel pretty guilty since I make 4 times that) but when we said he should try to get more money, he said that what he was making was a blessing. This really hit home with me. He said he was only making about $10 a month in the Eritrean army so this was obviously a huge upgrade. He also went on to talk about how his goal is to go to America to get his Master’s degree in environmental science, but since he is a refugee and left Eritrea illegally, it is very hard to get the proper documentation. It was very powerful to hear how grateful he was for everything he had and how hopeful he was for his future even though he has every reason not to be.

Linda’s story is no less amazing. As I said earlier, she was born in southern Sudan. If you’re not familiar with recent Sudanese history, there was a terrible civil war between northern and southern Sudan that just ended in 2005 (I say ended, the two sides signed a Comprehensive Peace Agreement but there is still some fighting in the south). When she was six years old, Linda’s grandmother decided to take Linda and try to escape their increasingly violent surroundings. So they set off on foot for what would be quite a journey. Linda said they walked for three months from village to village avoiding the gunshots and armed groups of men. They eventually made it to the Ethiopian border and after spending some time in Addis Ababa and reuniting with her siblings and mother, they immigrated to the US. She didn’t give a lot of details about their journey and we didn’t push her for them since I’m sure that’s a painful time for her. Anyways, she was obviously so grateful just to be alive and to have the opportunity to grow up in America. She graduated from the University of Florida and is now taking online courses for a Master’s degree. Now that the war has ended, she wants to go back to southern Sudan and help rebuild that part of the country.

As you can imagine, I was blown away by both of these stories. To be honest, I really didn’t say much for the rest of the night because I just couldn’t believe what I heard. What could I say? “Yeah, I come from a wealthy, upper-middle class family and I never felt real danger or wanted for anything in my entire life.” I have experienced these feelings of guilt before when I’ve travelled to developing countries but I have also realized that feeling guilty for what you have isn’t really the proper response. I’ve realized that we have no control over where we are born or into what situation we are born. We can only be thankful for what we have, help those that are less fortunate than us and live our lives to the fullest. What this evening did help me realize was that a lot of the problems we complain about in the west are really quite trivial and unimportant. While we worry about the price of gas or the traffic on the way home, there are people in the world struggling to survive in the face of war and poverty. Hearing Linda and Daniel’s stories just gave me a human reminder of this fact and made me realize that I can never give God enough thanks for the many blessings in my life.

This one's for Bradley (And teaching adults)

So I’ve obviously been quite negligent in my blogging this past month. To be quite honest, I kind of lost interest in it and it was starting to feel like work. However, I know that there are some people out there who are interested in what’s going on in my life and this is a way for me to keep them posted. Hence the name of this post, since Bradley Kibler is one of the people that encouraged me (a nice way of putting it, she actually threatened physical violence) to get back on it. So I will try to do better and I will start by updating what’s been going on in my life recently.

There is another reason I haven’t been writing, and that’s because I don’t have as much free time since I have started teaching an adult class in the evenings. My school actually has five different campuses. There are two kids centers and three adult centers. About a month and a half ago they asked me if I would have any interest in teaching an adult class in the evenings. Since I’d settled into a routine teaching kids in the mornings and knew what I needed to do to prepare for those classes, I decided I would accept their offer. Also, I figured it would look good on my resume to have experience teaching adults and I just thought it would be fun. Not to mention they would pay me overtime. I’m teaching English Communication to a class of 6 people. It’s an interesting mix of folks. There are two university students, a doctor, a pharmacist, an economist, and a stay-at-home mom. The class meets three nights a week from 6-7:30. I basically teach from the textbook that the school uses but they give me freedom as to how I present the material. I have really enjoyed the experience and my students seem to be improving as well. Since it’s a communication class, I try to dedicate the last 10 or 15 minutes of each class to a discussion which has also been a learning experience for me. I keep it pretty open and we’ve talked about everything from religion to healthcare to government and many other things. So while they are practicing their English, I’m learning about Sudanese culture at the same time. Not surprisingly, the classroom dynamic is quite different in a class of 6 adults than in a class of 25 3rd graders. But to be honest, I can’t decide which one I like better. It’s definitely nice not to worry about discipline with the adults but seeing children get excited about learning feels a bit more rewarding. Anyways, I’m glad to have both experiences and teaching adults has been a nice addition to my schedule. In fact, the school has asked me about teaching another Communication class on the same night so I will most likely start a new class in the next week or two.

There is one interesting, although somewhat somber, story from that adult class that I want to share. The first night of the class was just an introduction. I went over the course outline, grading scheme, etc. and we just did some introductions. I wrote some questions on the board (Where are you from, what do you do, etc.) and had the students go around and answer them. One of the university students said she was from Iraq. I asked her how long she had been in Sudan and she said her whole family left Iraq in 2005. While I probably should have just kept my mouth shut, I just couldn’t hold back and I said, “I’m so sorry for what my country has done to your country.” She looked really embarrassed and said that it wasn’t my fault. After an awkward silence, I moved on to the next person. Although we haven’t spoken directly about the war in Iraq, there was one class that focused on describing your hometown. While Farah (the Iraqi woman) said she likes Sudan, you could hear in her description of Tikrit that she really missed it. It was certainly a poignant human reminder of the disruption that war has caused to so many Iraqi families. Although before meeting Farah I knew that the war in Iraq was a terrible thing and millions of Iraqis were affected, putting a human face to that conflict makes it much more real.

Anyways, that’s a first update on what I’ve been doing. I’ll try to write about a few more things that I’ve done recently in the next week or two. I hope everyone is doing well, wherever you may be

This is Pretty Intense

As I’ve written many times in this blog, the Sudanese people are generally very friendly and hospitable. However, I was recently introduced to a fairly brutal side of the culture. On our way to and from school every day we drive past a prison. It’s quite a site as there are tanks positioned by the walls and pickup trucks with machine guns mounted in the bed. And there are always a number of armed guards patrolling the area as well. Last Thursday, as we drove past the prison on our way home, there were a lot more guards than normal and some of them were dressed in full riot gear. We weren’t quite sure what was going on and I didn’t think too much about it at the time. Come to find out, six men were hung that afternoon and a crowd gathered to witness the event. These men allegedly killed six policemen in a refugee camp on the outskirts of Khartoum about 2 year ago. Apparently the police came to forcibly move some of the refugees and a riot broke out. In the confusion, six policemen were killed and several people were apprehended under suspicion of murder. Controversy surrounded the trial of these men as many outsiders claimed they admitted to the murders after being tortured. The UN, Amnesty International and several other organizations strongly condemned the executions based on the confessions being made while being tortured. I can only imagine that if I was being tortured I would be likely to admit to just about anything to make it stop. Anyways, the government went ahead with the executions last Thursday and many people came out to watch. It wasn’t exactly a public execution as the hangings occurred inside the prison walls. However, you can see the top of the gallows from the street and apparently you could see the men as they walked to the top of the gallows and were then pushed off, but you couldn’t see the bodies as they hung. We got all of this information today from one of our Sudanese co-workers and it was really quite shocking. I am a strong opponent of the death penalty in general and it is especially troubling when these allegations of torture are involved. While I love the Sudanese people in general, there are some real issues with the government that some of you are probably aware of. I will try to write more about my impressions of the political situation in Sudan but this gives you a glimpse of some of the problems. Anyways, it was especially troubling to know that many people came out to watch these men take their final steps and it certainly clouded my perhaps idealistic vision of the Sudanese. Sorry to write such a disturbing post but no worries, I’m still safe and thoroughly enjoying my experience!

Sudanese Wedding

I apologize again for such long intervals in between entries. It sounds like there are a few folks out there who enjoy reading this blog and I will try to do better about writing more regularly. Anyways, I believe I promised a description of the Sudanese wedding I attended in Dongola and I think you will find it quite an interesting story. First of all, kind of like in the States, wedding celebrations last for two or three days here in Sudan. The first night is what they call a Henna party. If you’re not familiar with henna, it is a kind of ink that people use to make temporary tattoos. It is customary in Sudan for the bride and groom to get their hands and feet decorated with henna before the wedding. On the last night of Eid there was a Henna party at the house next door to Amar’s family. There was a huge tapestry draped against a wall and a couch where the henna tattooing took place. At the same time there was some very loud, traditional Sudanese music playing on a pretty impressive sound system and folks were dancing and having a good time. Like usual, people were fascinated by the white guy in their midst and they really went wild when I started dancing along to the music. This was also the first time I heard the unique and hair-raising way in which Sudanese women express their joy. Obviously weddings are happy occasions and the women express their delight by letting loose a series of high-pitched screams. There’s no way I can do it justice in written words but it’s something like, “Aye-yi-yi-yi-yi-yi-yi!!!” The next time I see any of you in person just ask me about this and I will do my best to impersonate these yelps. Needless to say, this scared the hell out of me the first time I heard it and Amar and everyone else got a good laugh when they saw me almost jump out of my skin. Anyways, after the bride and groom had their hands and feet decorated the floor was open for anyone else who wanted it. It was interesting that while the women had some pretty elaborate decorations, the men would just color their palms and the soles of their feet without the designs. A couple of people encouraged me to get some henna but I respectfully declined. So that was the henna party.

The next night, my last night in Mashu, we went to an actual wedding celebration in a neighboring village that was really quite the experience. The party was held outside at a kind of community center. They had set up these massive tapestries in a giant square with a big opening on one side. When we got there, the square was already packed and a band was playing. The band was one guy on a keyboard, one guy on a beat machine, and a singer. Apparently the guy is like the local wedding singer and he was really getting into it. Allow me to digress and say a quick word about Sudanese music. While it is kind of catchy at first and definitely upbeat and lively, all of the songs seem to sound exactly the same and after a couple hours it gets pretty repetitive. I’m sure the Sudanese can hear the difference in the songs but to me it sounded like the same song for about 3 hours. Anyways, for such a small village this was quite the gathering. I’m not very good at estimating crowds but I would say there were at least 500 people there and probably more. One of the neat things about Sudanese weddings is that you don’t need an invitation to go. Everyone is welcome, which is really cool. Many aspects of Sudanese village life are sex-segregated and weddings are no different. The women sat on one side and the men sat on the other. It was also interesting that for the most part, the men danced with other men and vice versa. And if men and women danced together there wouldn’t be any physical contact. That is one aspect of the culture that is very different from America.

Things got really interesting when the bride and groom showed up. In Islam, the wedding ceremony is very simple and is generally performed away from the crowd gathered for the occasion. The couple would generally exchange vows in front of their immediate family and then make their way to the party. And this particular couple entered in style. First, a group of 4 or 5 girls walked in shooting fireworks into the air. The bride and groom then drove up in a car with the immediate family walking behind the car. One guy had a shotgun and he proceeded to shoot a couple rounds in the air. Another guy, apparently not wanting to let Mr. Shotgun celebrate by himself, pulled out a handgun and joined in the festivities. I have to admit I was a little nervous when they started dancing while simultaneously waving their respective guns in the air but thankfully there were no incidents. The rest of the night was spent like most American weddings, with people dancing and socializing. There was one other interesting custom that is worth noting. Every so often, a member of the wedding party (either the groom or a family member, never the bride) would walk around the exterior of the dance floor and as he passed, the people would stand and snap their fingers in the air. Apparently this is another way that Sudanese people express happiness and it almost looked like the wave as the groom made his way around and people would stand to snap their fingers.

This wedding celebration was quite an interesting experience and it was a great ending to my time in Mashu. Wedding ceremonies are an important part of every culture and it was interesting to see how a different culture celebrates this sacred event in the life of a community. Hopefully I will have the opportunity to attend another wedding while I’m here in Sudan but if not, I will always remember the party in Mashu!

Kerma

I’m sorry I haven’t written in awhile but I have been busy with school work and some other things. But there is still more to tell about my trip to Dongola. After the Eid, we still had a full day in Mashu before heading back to Khartoum and Amar’s uncle mentioned to me that there were some ancient ruins nearby. Being a history buff, I am always interested in historical sites so we set off for the ancient city of Kerma. The ruins are outside of a town on the other side of the Nile from Mashu so the journey itself was pretty cool. Amar’s uncle, Abubeida, has lived in Mashu his whole life and he was our tour guide for the day. He first showed me some old buildings in Mashu that were really neat. We saw the remains of the first mosque ever built in Mashu and some very old houses. The houses were built out of mud and they had these huge doors that were ornately decorated and very beautiful. We also walked through an old cemetery and saw an old burial mound. Abubeida pointed out the bones and even pulled out a tooth from the mound. Although it might sound weird, I kept the tooth and it’s now sitting on my bedside table. An interesting souvenir, for sure. We then made our way down to the river and caught a ferry to a big island in the Nile across from Mashu. When I say ferry, I mean an old, beat up, flat-bottom boat with a little outboard engine. Although it was a short trip, maybe 250 meters, it was very pleasant and I couldn’t help but think about all the people throughout history that have ridden boats across the Nile River. We then walked across the island which was very cool. The island is covered in what are essentially date palm forests with small houses tucked in among the trees. It was very beautiful and the people living on the island obviously live a very simple life. There are no cars on the island either so it was very quiet and peaceful. We took our time walking across the island, enjoying the shade of the palm trees the whole way, and eventually came out on the other side. There we caught another “ferry” to Al Borgaig, a fairly big town on the other side of the Nile. And this was where the real exercise began. Kerma is outside of Al Borgaig, away from the river, so we had to walk across town and then through a bunch of agricultural fields to get there. I would estimate it was about 2 miles, which isn’t that bad, except there was no shade and in the middle of the day, that African sun really beats down pretty hard. Although I put on some sunscreen before we left Mashu, I ended up getting pretty burnt, but life goes on.

Anyways, we finally got to Kerma and it was quite an impressive site. Kerma was an important city throughout different periods of ancient Sudanese history. The history of Sudan is closely linked with the history of Egypt due to the close proximity of the two countries and the fact that the Nile flows through them both. In ancient times, there was an ebb and flow to their relations as one kingdom would conquer the other and vice versa depending on which empire was stronger at a given time. So there was a significant Egyptian influence in Kerma. Anyways, Kerma was a big city for its time and the buildings were constructed around a massive temple. The remains of the temple are the main attraction today and it is an imposing site. Northern Sudan is a very flat part of the world so while the temple remains are only about 5 or 6 stories tall, it is striking to see something that high in such a flat land. First, we checked out the museum which provided a great overview of Kerma through the different periods of history. It also had some different artifacts found during the excavations. The most impressive pieces were some old statues of Nubian kings found around Kerma. These statues, 6 or 7 in all, had been meticulously pieced together and were very cool. Unfortunately they didn’t allow pictures and a guard basically followed us around so I’ll just have to keep the picture in my mind. After walking through the museum, we made our way outside to the temple. Although it would have been possible and probably pretty fun to climb up the side of the temple, there were some steps and we figured that would be the better route to the top. The views from the top of the temple were very nice and provided an excellent view of the excavated remains of the city. All that’s left of the city buildings are the foundations but you can still get a good idea of the layout. After about 10 or 15 minutes, we decided it was about time to head back to Mashu. We went back the same way that we came and I was absolutely exhausted by the time we got back to Mashu. Still, I thoroughly enjoyed our trip to Kerma. From taking a ferry across the Nile to walking across the island to seeing some old ruins, it was another experience that I will never forget.

Although I wrote previously that this would conclude the three-part entry about my trip to Dongola, I realized that there is another fascinating experience I had that I must share with you all. The last night I was in Mashu we went to a Sudanese wedding and this experience deserves its own entry so hopefully I will write that soon. As for now, I hope everyone is enjoying the holiday season and I wish everyone the best.

The amazing people and simple life of Mashu

As I have written before, the Sudanese are generally very generous and hospitable to foreigners. While this is certainly the case in Khartoum, the people of Mashu and the surrounding villages took this sense of hospitality to a new level. While Dongola is one of the tourist destinations in Sudan, I don’t think too many foreigners make their way to Mashu and I kind of felt like a celebrity. When we first arrived in Mashu, Amar told me that I would be treated like a king, and he was right. It almost became a competition amongst the villagers and everyone wanted me to come to their home for tea or a meal. As I wrote in the previous entry, each meal during the Eid was at a different house and after every meal the host would shake my hand with a big smile and say, “Thank you so much for coming to my home.” It would often be in broken English or through Amar but the sentiment was quite clear. On the last day of Eid, we went to the house of one of Amar’s good friends for breakfast. When we arrived, he greeted me with a big hug and said, through Amar, “Jeremy! We have been waiting all morning for you to get here!” He seemed so proud to show me his house, simple though it may have been. Unfortunately we had to turn down several invitations because there were more invites than there were meals. One day, we were walking through another village to a house for lunch. There was a group of men sitting on the side of the road and when they saw me coming, they called me over and insisted I had a cup of coffee. One of the men then brought out his whole family to meet me and basically begged me to stay for lunch. Keep in mind this was a total stranger, even to Amar and his cousins. It took them some time to convince the man that we had to go to another house for lunch. Although he was disappointed that we couldn’t stay, he thanked me for drinking his coffee and I was just shocked by this man’s generosity. As we walked away and I marveled to Amar about the kindness of the people, he beamed with pride.

There were also many times where I was surrounded by people, usually kids or teenagers, who just wanted to hear me talk. It was obvious that my general appearance and language were hilarious to them because there were several times that they would say things in Arabic and then burst out laughing. It didn’t bother me because I have no idea what they were saying and laughter is always a good thing, even if they were laughing at me. It really made me wish that I knew Arabic because everyone wanted to speak to me but their English was rudimentary at best. However, there were a few locals who spoke English and I had several very interesting conversations. They always wanted to know my thoughts about Sudan and how my experiences contrasted with what we hear about Sudan in the western media. The Sudanese are very aware that their country isn’t painted in the best light in the west and I was happy to tell them how appreciative I was of the Sudanese hospitality and generosity. Many people that I met live in different parts of Sudan and I now have several standing offers to visit different cities and towns around the country.

As you might imagine, life is very simple in these small villages. Agriculture is the primary industry in the area and the Nile River definitely sustains the entire region. The main crops are wheat, beans, and greens that they feed the animals. Dongola is famous throughout Sudan for its dates and there are date palms everywhere. Whenever we walked around, we would throw rocks in the trees to knock down some dates, clean them, and eat them on the spot. Every house had huge sacks filled with dates. The dates were so tasty and I brought two big bags back with me to Khartoum. Many people live a rather primitive lifestyle. There is no indoor plumbing so the bathrooms are basically four walls built around a hole in the ground. They don’t have toilet paper, just a jug of water, so I’ll let you use your imagination to figure out how you clean yourself. Let’s just say there’s a reason why you only eat with your right hand. The “shower” is just an enclosed area with a bucket of water and a bar of soap. The area only got electricity about a year ago when a large dam was built nearby on the Nile. Even without all the so-called modern comforts, the people there have a joy for life. I have had similar experiences in other developing countries that I have visited and it never ceases to amaze me. It just proves that happiness does not come from our material possessions, but rather from human interaction with friends and family. The bonds between the people I met were very strong and everyone seemed to truly care for one another.

Even after only a few days, I honestly felt like part of the community. Everyone I met was so incredibly friendly; they seemed genuinely honored to welcome a foreigner into their village. Everywhere I went, people were telling me that I had to come back and visit them again. I will close with another story that really made me smile. One night after dinner in a nearby village, we were riding back to our house on a donkey cart (a pretty cool experience in itself). A truck drove by and the driver slowed down to say hello. As they drove by, I heard someone in the passenger seat say, “It’s Jeremy!” I have no idea who it was but it just typifies how welcoming the people were throughout my stay. I will never forget the incredible people of Mashu.

The Eid Holiday in Mashu

As I wrote in my last entry, I had a short break from school for the Eid holiday and had the opportunity to travel with my Sudanese friend Amar to his family’s village in Northern Sudan. Let me start by saying that this trip was one of the most incredible experiences of my life and one that I will never forget. I’ve been trying to think of creative ways to organize these blog entries about the trip but nothing has come to me so I am just going to start writing and see where it goes.

The bus ride itself was quite an experience. The drive from Khartoum to Dongola is about six hours of nothing but desert. At first there were some shrubs but after awhile it was nothing but sand. I’ve never seen desert like that before and it was really quite beautiful. There were some small groups of mud huts along the way and God only knows how the people living there survive. We stopped at a kind of rest area with some tents set up and people selling tea and snacks. I asked Amar if there was a restroom and he laughed and pointed to the desert. So I walked out behind the tent a little ways and I must admit it was pretty cool to look out over the desert while I was peeing. Another exciting event was when the bus broke down. We all got out while the driver and some other men tried to fix it and I was having visions of being stranded out in the middle of the desert. Fortunately the problem was fixed after only 15 minutes or so and we made our way to Dongola. Dongola is a state in Northern Sudan and the capital of the state takes the same name. We then took another van to Mashu, Amar’s village, about an hour north of Dongola. The van was packed to the brim and in true African style a couple of guys rode on the roof. There was a beautiful sunset over the desert and after a painful, bumpy ride (no paved roads outside of the capital) we finally arrived. I think word spread quickly that a khawaje (white person) was in town and many people came to see and say hello. After a traditional Sudanese meal of bread and fuul (a bean dish cooked with oil and spices), I got a call from my family back in the States (it was Thanksgiving), which was nice. After a long day of travelling, I was happy to go to bed early and get some much needed rest.

The next day was the start of Eid and the real festivities. Eid is a celebration of when Abraham was prepared to sacrifice his son Isaac but God gave him a ram instead. In remembrance of this event, Muslims around the world sacrifice sheep. The holiday lasts for three days and is like an extended Thanksgiving. Many Sudanese people return to their villages and then different households sacrifice sheep for a specific meal so each meal is eaten at a different house. In Sudan, breakfast is served around 11, lunch is around 5, and dinner is around 10. The house at which I was staying was responsible for breakfast on the first day of Eid so after everybody went to the mosque to pray in the morning, it was time for the sacrifice. While three people held the sheep down, the man with the knife said Bismila (In the name of God) and cut the throat. And when I say cut the throat, I mean he sawed through the windpipe and everything. There wasn’t as much blood as I expected but the sounds that the sheep made as the life went out of it were not exactly pleasant. But one sheep wasn’t enough for this meal so while two men started to skin the first sheep, another was brought out into the courtyard. As they brought the second sheep out, two people held up a sheet over the first sheep so the second one wouldn’t see his buddy lying there with his throat cut and freak out. After repeating the process with sheep number two, the serious work of cleaning and cutting the meat began. This was a group project and there were probably ten men working together. It was quite an impressive operation and after about thirty minutes all the meat was cut and ready to go.

While watching sheep get slaughtered was pretty cool, the real treat was the meal itself. Meat obviously doesn’t get any fresher than that and it was the best lamb I have ever had. There were four main lamb dishes: cubed meat that was spiced and grilled, meat on the bone that I’m not sure how they cooked, some kind of lamb stew, and grilled liver, which was surprisingly pretty good. Add some bread and a bowl of fuul and you’ve got yourself an Eid feast. All of this food was brought out on huge metal platters and everyone sat around them on the floor and dug in with their hands. When I say hands I mean hand because you only eat with your right hand. This was a little tricky for me seeing as I’m left handed but I managed okay. Also, my mother and sister will love this, the men and women eat separately. And every meal is followed by a delicious cup of tea. Although some households would add another dish, this same basic meal was served for breakfast, lunch, and dinner for three days straight. While I never thought I could get sick of lamb, I have to admit that after about the 6th or 7th meal I was ready for something different. But I certainly wasn’t going to complain.

I think that’s enough for one entry and as I’ve been writing, I think I have formulated a way to organize these blog entries about my trip to Dongola. This entry describes the Eid holiday, then I think I will write one about life in Mashu and the people I met there, and finally a description of my visit to the ancient site of Karma. This could certainly change but it sounds good to me now. So hopefully that’s a good teaser and I will try to write those other posts soon.