The Landmark

This is a true story about a very reliable donkey. In a land where reliability is a little more than a distant dream you learn to appreciate consistency and reliability. While taking directions to a colleague's home, he instructed me to take Road 60 (see my post about that) heading South, past the big Mosque, then past the new electircal posts. And I am to take a left hand turn on the dirt road where the white donkey is! My laughs were met with serious looks, across the board. They were dead serious. When I get to the white donkey, I am to take that left. Second building to the right.

I didn't know where to begin my redicule, but my colleague's experience taught him to preempt my reaction, and told me "Look, just do as I say. When you see the white donkey turn left."

That was one for the laughs, I thought. This place hasn't failed to amuse me in the past. Why should it stop now? So off I went on Street 60, South past the Mosque, past the new electrical posts. And sure enough! There he was! The white donkey, patiently standing there on the side of the road. That was amusing. But what's better; I've been to Ziad's house many time now (his helper cooks VERY well), and every time, without fail, there is the white donkey. Patiently standing there, making sure everyone know's where Ziad's house is. Sometimes the donkey has an erection, and sometimes he doesn't. I still haven't figured out what excites him.

Cairo Shoot

Something about Cairo that I love. Don't know what it is. In fact, rationally I should dislike it, since it contains many of the characteristics I like to stay away from. Maybe it's because I'm just a tourist there.

My last trip to Cairo was about a TV commercial shoot. We shot 4 commercials in 2 days. That meant shooting for about 15 hours a day! And that was with a super efficient team - hats off to all of them!

Needless to say, that didn't leave me much time to go around town much. Back from the shoot at 3am, the bed looks better than a red Ferrari F50 with the keys in the ignition and my initials embossed on the leather seats. Ok, not THAT good, but almost that good. I'll just let the picures do the talking on this one.

The National Republican Museum

Today I went to the museum. Just happened to be walking along the Blue Nile, and on the grounds of the Presidential Palace was a little entrance in the back, with a small sign that read National Republican Museum. We walked in, and saw a few old cars, and a beautiful church. Inside the Church was the actual museum. Well, by name it's a museum. As far as I know, museums have old stuff in it. Here, there were banners. Just many pop-up banners with a historical recount taking you through the independance of Sudan. Oh, there were a few chairs. Old ones. But the Church is nice.

Delicacy of the Day

Here's one for the blog. I won't elaborate, because the concept speaks for itsself. The Southern part of Sudan enjoys a local dish called Bigin. It's quite simple, monkey's hand cooked with some sesame seads closed in the palm. For some reason it escaped my mind to ask at what temperature and for how long. But I'm sure you'll figure it out by the time you find some nice fat monkey's hands in your local market.

I'm told the hand meat is tender and tasty.

Bon apetit.

The Power of Prepaid: Prepaid Power

It started with pay-as-you-go mobile phone lines, I believe, and seems to have caught on to domestic electric power. Here in Sudan, every household has an electric meter, just like any other country. Except that it doesn't just show how much power is consumed, but rather how much credit you still have left, before your electric power is cut off.

The way it works is that you go to the electricity place with your meter serial number, go to the lady behind the window and hand her your meter number and some money (however much you want loaded onto your meter). Electricity costs roughly US$ 0.15 per kilowatt hour. The lady will then hand you a receipt with a 16 digit code, which you just type into the keypad on the meter. Your credit will be automatically entered. Now you can enjoy air conditioning and hot water!

What's amazing about prepaid electricity (besides the fact of being an extremely efficient way of collecting electicity bills) is that it gives the user an unprecidented awareness of electricity consumption. I can tell you exactly how much my fridge consumes (about .12 kw/h) or how much my a/c consumes (2.30 kw/h) or even my water heater (1.7 kw/h). And I also know that light bulbs (especially the new power saving ones) consume next to nothing. So it's true what they claim.

Maybe prepay is the way!

Ants - my new friends

We used to fight all the time, ants and I. They would invade my space, and I'd kill them. That was pretty much our relationship until recently.

One day, I discovered that ants like Blueberry Muffin cereal. They had found my cereal box, and attacked it in their usual organized manner. Of course, they panicked when they noticed me, and started scrambling all over the place! I was squashing them as fast as I could, and tried hard to convince the ones inside the box to get out, so I could squash them too. Some did, but some refused to come out.

And that was my turning point. The Sudanese ants don't bite (like the Floridian fire ants). They just roam around the place, and try to get out of your way when you are around. They don't scream, or make a big drama scene when you accidentally step on one. They are also full of protein, so instead of talking them into getting out of my cereal box and squashing them, I just eat them. It's easyer for the both of us, and they don't even taste bad. In fact, they don't taste at all. So I can still enjoy the full flavour of my Blueberry Mufin cereal.

Besides, they reproduce more than rabbits! You couldn't possibly get rid of all of them.
So ants are now my new friends. Things are so much better between us now.

AAAAAIIIII!!

In English it's "Yes" "Yep" or "Sure". In Italian and Spanish it's "Si", in Turkish it's "Evet", in Czech it's "Ano" in Arabic it's "Eh" or "Na'am". In Sudan it's "AAAII"

And I bet that's where Ali G got it from!

I love it. This and the salute (tapping the shoulder) are something I'll take with me from here.

Shopping

One night, my driver took me to the local shopping street in the center of Khartoum. Besides needing towels, curiosity drove me.

As we parked behind the open sewers, on the other side was a policeman sporting a whip! When asked what it was for, Salah told me he uses it to beat people. Asked if he thought that was a bit crude, he looked at me in a funny way, and said 'no, they deserve it!' as if I were a stupid softie or something.

We went on and entered several stores. The place was quite happening - where light was available - and people were happily window shopping most of the time. It seemed there were more people selling stuff then there were buyers.

I managed to find a couple of towels!

Cinema!

My neighbour thought I need to see the newest (and only) mall in Khartoum. Indeed, it's the only mall in all of Sudan. But it has everything; shops, a supermarket, a gym, a food court, a game room, and of course, a cinema. Yes, one cinema. I couldn't figure out exactly what movie was playing at the time. That was probably because I was so "taken" by the decor of the place. I just had to share it with you. Amazing.

Hi!

Just a quick note to say hi to all visitors. Posts are becoming few and far between. That's probably because of two reasons; I am less astonished by my surroundings (which is related to my theory of relativity, and is rather scary when I think about it), and also as I get more entrenched in work and life, I'm also more involved in them.

That doesn't mean my posts will stop just yet. Life in Sudan is still exciting, and I plan to share these unique moments in life with you. This phase will be a bit slow because of the above, and also because I will be away on vacation for a week. Expect new posts as November comes around.

I leave you with this van that appeared infront of me as I was driving home early one day. The driver obviously loves Bob Marley, but I think in this case the intention is definitely not reflected in the action.

Encounter with the Law

The fuzz, pig, coppers, cops, or just the law, whatever you wanna call the police, I met them in Sudan - twice already.

This morning, while driving myself to work, minding my own business, I found myself driving in the middle of a presidential convoy. The president (or vice president, or some big shot of the sorts) was a couple of cars infront of me. As soon as I realized I pulled over to the side of the street, to let the poor guards behind me pass, and do their jobs. Felt a bit bad for them because I'm sure they will get a beating from their commander at why their modified Toyota Land Cruiser couldn't overtake a small hyundai driving along.

Anyway, I pulled over, and they passed. Before I could get in gear and continue my journey, I heard a knock on the window. It was a freightened little traffic policeman, who was trying to act all tough and macho. His partner was rushing to be by his side, from across the street. In his Sudani Arabic, of which I understand about 50% of (goes down to about 10% when they are excited, as was the case with freightened little cop), he was asking me what I was trying to do, and wanted to see my driver's licence. He took my license to his boss, sitting in the police car on the other side of the road, and asked me to see him.

As I approached the police car on the other side of the road, I noticed the boss sitting in the passenger seat with my license in his hands. He wasn't moving. I got all the way to his window, and noticed he was taking a nap. So I did what any good responsible citizen would do. I woke him up! Wished him a kind Ramadan really loud. Upon his coming around, he asked me a series of questions:

Boss: What were you doing?

Me: I was just driving along, and found myself in the middle of the convoy.

Boss: How could you do that?! It's illegal!!

Me: I kinda realize that. I didn't go looking for the convoy and stick myself in the
middle. I was just driving along, and they came up to me.

Boss: Well, didn't you hear the sirens??

Me: No. (I had the music on loud)

Boss: What's this Lebanese license, valid for 32 years??

Me: No, I'm 34 years old. (that's my limited ability to understand their Arabic)
This went on for a bit until I understood his question...

Me: Ooooh, yes, it is valid for 32 years.

Boss: How could that be?! It's too much!

Me: Well, it wasn't really my idea. But you can talk to our Minister of Transportation and get his opinion on it.

Then he looked at me suspiciously, trying to figure out if I was being a smart ass, or if I were genuinely inviting him to write our Minister of Transportation. My face was blank.

Boss: You know they could have shot you in that convoy! They shoot people for things like that!
I had realized that. It's no joke around here.

Me: I realize that, and it's not like I intended to get into the presidential convoy. Not like this at least. It was an honest mistake. Really.

The boss man looked at my license again for a minute then gave back my license.

I thanked him, and wished him a happy Ramadan. As I went back to my car, I caught the two other scared police cops trying to peek and see what happened. I smiled and waved at them, and they quickly turned around, pretending like nothing happened.

That was the second encounter, as mentioned. The first was different, and far less exciting. I had parked on a street which, to my luck, our beloved presidential convoy was about to pass through. That meant all cars on that street had to be removed. Luckily I was warned before the cars were removed - including mine. The way it works here, is that if you are parked wrong (and that part is arbitrary), they remove your license plates and take them. When you come back to your car, and realize that you have no license plates, you can assume that is your parking ticket. Why waste paper on tickets, when you can just remove people's license plates?!

I caught them before leaving, so I paid the guy around $15 and got my license plates back, along with a small receipt. That after a lot of shouting - not because they were angry, but just because they were all excited! And as my Sudanese Arabic has it, my understanding has a converse relationship with Sudani excitement. The higher the excitement, the lower my understanding.

Street 60

There's this main street that cuts through the city north and south called Street 60. Another one a couple of blocks away, that runs parallel to it called Street 80. That name was later changed to be named after one of the Sudani heroes, as most other streets.

Today I learned the story behind 60 and 80. When the streets were built at the time, they were named after their width. So Street 60 was 60 metes wide. And street 80 was - you guessed it - 80 meters wide.

My guess is that at some point they realized that there may be more than one 60 meter wide street in the city, and decided it wasn't a smart way to name streets. Street 60 survived though.

Publishing Note: Check out the Taxi! post below - it's new!

Theory of Relativity

Einstein had his own theory, but what does he know? Bet he's never been to Sudan either.

The thing is, everything is relative! As humans we have the inherent instinct of comparing. We compare everything we experience all the time. That means our experiences become our standards. And our happiness then rests on those standards.

Interesting discovery on the above; Sudan is a very expensive country (relatively!). For example a kilo of tomatos goes for around US$ 5, and a kilo of raw chicken would sometimes reach US$ 15. With so much poverty around, I wondered how the majority of the population manage to live. A colleague explained to me that most of them just eat Foul (which is a type of cooked chickpeas) with bread and water.
Once, at a dinner, my colleague offered his chaufeur to join him for a bite, since he was going to be late. The chaufeur adamantly refused to eat anything except Foul, because he did not want to get used to any other taste. He knew he wouldn't be able to afford to eat anything else. That's what they eat all the time, and that's what they will always eat.
So in a way he didn't want to set a new standard of relativity, which would interrupt his hapiness. Ignorance is bliss.

It also works the other way round. Since my arrival, I have been getting gradually more accustomed to a new standard of living. What seemed to me unaceptable 2 weeks ago, has now become my new standard. It's all relative. When I first entered the hotel I'm staying at 2 weeks ago, my first thoughts were 'ok, I can probably make it through the night today, but tomorrow I'm looking for a new place tomorrow'. I've been there now for 2 weeks and I got used to it.

Last night I had dinner with my 2 new found friends: An Argentinian journalist, who is passionate about journalistic filming and marketing, and his Sweedish colleague who is passionate about sales - and very good at it too (she can sell ice to an eskimo). In our conversation, a lot of my observations and frustrations about the country were now not even noticed by Lorenzo and Leila. They seemed quite comfortable with their surroundings. Once you adjust your standards relative with your environment your happiness increases.

Einstein managed to prove all that mathematically. And without ever having to come to Sudan! I guess that's why they call him a genious.

Salute!

I really like the way the Sudanese people greet each other. Instead of shaking hands (sometimes in addition to shaking hands), two people facing each other would tap each other with their right hand on each other's left shoulder. That is sometimes followed by a handshake.

Pretty cool, hey.

Taxi!

It's the weekend, and I don't have a driver. But I still need to get to the office - so I take a taxi.

So far I've noticed 3 types of taxi transportation here: the rickshaws (?); those are the 3 wheeler vehicles, that have motorcycle style handlebars and carry about 2 people. The taxi; that is the small Toyota corola or corona that is about 30+ years old and all yellow. And then there are the little minivans; which are the size of a minature van. They carry different passengers going to different places, as long as it's on their way. (I just noticed today that there are also the busses. How could I miss them - they conjest the streets outside my office every morning)

My first Sudanese taxi experience was quite fun. Went out in front of the hotel to find a couple of them sitting there, to get business. As mentioned before, the Sudanese people are generally friendly and very nice. That goes for the taxi drivers as well.

My ride was with Sayyed. He saw me standing on the opposite direction, so he slammed on his brakes, did a quick u turn and waited for me to open the door and get in. As I entered we negotiated the price, and off we went.

My office is quite close - about 5 minutes by car. On a Friday the roads are quite empty too. In this time Sayyed quickly picked up my interest in his vehicle and gladly volunteered as much info as I could ask for. Generally Sudanese cabs are Toyota Corollas or Coronas, built anywhere between 1976 and 1979. Sayyed also showed me, with his big white smile, the 2 radio's he had installed. When I asked him why he has 2 radios in his car, he explained to me that 2 radios are better than 1 radio. I didn't inquire further.

The interior of the already small car is so jammed with 'stuff' that there is very little space for people. The cars are surprisingly comfortable, and very surprisingly free from rattles and shakes. Of course, remember that I'm talking of a small 30 year old Japanese car that has seen harsh times. Most of the milage on these cars are not on tarred roads.

Not only did he proudly present his vehicle to me, but when I asked if I could take pictures he actually told me to take more, from different angles. I think he should be a movie director.

Italian Connection

This post is dedicated to my new found old Italian friends!

Background: Over the past couple of weeks I've been reunited with my high school friends in Italy, after an absence of about 20 years. The link was my Brazilian friend who studied with me in Holland, and now works in Germany with one of my Italian school mates. So much has happened in 20 years - but the personalities are remain just as I remember them to be.

At lunchtime today I was inspired by my new found Italian connection, and decided to order a pizza for lunch. The word was that the best pizza in town comes from the "Italy Pizza Center". Sounds Italian - so I went for it!

And this is what I got! I can tell you the taste matched the looks. But at least they put olives.

French Onion Soup

That's what the menu of the Legenda restaurant at the Grand Holiday Villa Hotel claimed. So I ordered it, and it was actually edible. In Sudan, if you find something edible, stick to it! Because like many things in life, you don't get many second chances.

I have no problems ordering the French Onion Soup every night for dinner, because it tastes different every time. Sometimes I swear it tastes like chicken soup. But that's ok, because I like chicken soup too.

Practice makes perfect, and with practice I can almost tell which chef is on duty any time I order the French Onion Soup. Chef #1 serves it with a piece of bread and a slice of processed cheese floating on it and caramelized onions. Chef #2 forgets the bread and cheeze, and doesn't even caramelize the onions. And Chef #3 makes it taste like chicken. Yesterday Chef #2 was on duty, and he dropped the salt shaker in the pot. I could tell because it was way too salty!

Wonder who's on duty tomorrow...

What's in a Name?

Not much, I thought. Since arriving in Sudan about 10 days ago, I've met with 7 people called Ahmed. Most of them happen to be Egyptian. Not like I have enough to juggle in my mind, now I have to figure out which Ahmed is Ahmed. Particularly challenging because I work with 4 of them.

Now I realize why people have 3 (sometimes 4) names. It's to tell appart one Ahmed from another. To make things worse, two of the Ahmeds share the second name too! Talk about naming strategies.

The most popular name in the world was determined to be Mohammed. There are more Mohammeds in the world than any Tom, Dick and Harry. I found that to be true in Saudi, or the Gulf countries in general. So if the Gulf stands for Mohammed, Egypt stands for Ahmed, Potugal stands for Ana, I think I see a trend going here. In another couple of generations we would be able to determine someone's nationality by their first name, their city by their second name, their neighbourhood by their third name, and their family by their family name.

That's why they call it the family name!

My First Sudani Thunderstorm

I thought I've seen storms - till today! We were still at the MD's office, just finishing a meeting, when we heard a big explosion, followed closely by an even bigger one! Being Lebanese, and having just come out of a horrible one in Lebanon recently it's natural to think it was shelling.

When we looked out the window, we could see a huge black cloud approaching - not just in the sky, but all over the place. Inside that cloud were constant flashes of lightning. Quite a sight.

After finishing from the office I made my way to the Agency (another rush job!). As we met we could hear the water pouring down. It was raining, but kept coming down stronger and stronger. At one point, after all the lightning, the power went out. Being absolutely and utterly useless without electricity, we were naturally attracted to the entrance. The Agency is actually a villa, that was turned into an ad agency. So we're standing there, (the art director, deputy managing director and myself are all new to this country) in disbelief at the amount of water that is falling down from the sky. But the more amazing thing was the lightning and thunder. I kid you not when I say it was constant. The lightning was like a flourescent light refusing to fully light. Not 2 seconds passed without a flash or two. Being so dark all around, with all the constant flashing actually hurt my eyes. And the thunder was also constantly growling, like an angry dog. This went on for about 20 minutes before it sort of quieted down a bit.

I couldn't take any photos from my phone, because it was all dark - the power was out almost everywhere. That's when I learned another peculiar fact. In Sudan they purposefully shut the power down during heavy rainfall because the high tension wires are not properly insulated. Some guy could be walking down the street, minding his own business, and step into a puddle that is electrified, only to end his life. It used to happen often that after a storm people used to find electricuted and burned cadavers just laying on the streets. Solution? Just shut down the power when it's raining heavily. Simple.