Bits from January 2004 Journal

January 27: Well, no snow or ice here except for the cubes in my drink. Just came up from having a nightcap with my visiting Marine BG. Nice evening talking pro to pro. Evening is quite nice with pleasant chill in the air. Turns out too that his Marine bodyguard was the deputy commander of the Marine contingent in Brasilia. He remembers the day we took the picture of Andy in full regalia!

 

Shit happening in and about Darfur. Washington is ready to jump in head first and I'm trying to point out that the pool might not have as much water as they think.

January 28: Last night was quite cool but had to get up early to see off my guest. Tonight I am too tired to write or open the windows. Day ended with 3 1/2 hour intense meeting with Assistant President. Was supposed to be at pizza night with staff. This weekend will last 8 days with Eid. Rest then.

 

January 30: The weather has been quite nice since I got back from holidays. The evenings are cool and the temperature falls to the lower 60 by early morning. Over the weekend, we are supposed to hit the 50s. This is open window weather and I do. Even during the day, in the office, I open the windows and the breeze makes it comfortable all day. (I'm on the 6th floor and can see to both Nile Rivers.) Not for years have I been able to open the windows in the office. Very nice.

With windows open, the air cools nicely in my house. I also get the smells of the city. Most every night, this includes the smell of burning garbage but is bearable and passes quickly. One morning this week, it was so bad it woke me and I put on a face mask that I has been reserving for the sand storms. But windows open is too good to pass up. Locals say it'll only last to February.

With the windows open, I hear lots of things. At night I hear sometimes the bass rhythms of Arab music. This morning as I was waking, I heard several different kinds of birds singing. The early morning sounds start earlier. I hear the night trains and their whistles as they pull into Khartoum Station. The first call to prayer is around 5:30. I can sleep through that but usually stir and then go back to sleep. For some reason, not all the mosques use the same schedule and there seems to be a second call around six. This week, perhaps because of the Hajj (pilgrimage to Mecca), the first call to prayer also seems to come with a chorus of some kind. There is much I don't know about Islam.

A boy's school sits just down the block from me. The boys all wear green pajamas (they look like pajamas to me). They start school pretty early. Well, the morning sounds include what I have taken to calling the Daily Harangue. Remember the school assemblies of old? Well, these may be like them. A voice, on a big load speakers, starts speaking something that sounds like the call to prayer. Very pleasant to listen to, almost like singing. But then he switches into the voice I imagine the Ayatollahs use to excite the faithful to slaughter the infidels. This goes on for some time and actually has convinced me not to go outside during it. Then as suddenly as it began, the harangue stops and the voice assumes the tome and cadence of your high school principal. When the daily is over, I know it's time to get up. Sort of a Khartoum alarm clock. I'll miss it when it's time to go back to AC.

Cuban Interlude Three: Some Photos

These are photos from my 1983 trip to Cuba discussed in my previous posting. They include views of Havana (including street scenes), the Moncada (check out the bullet holes), and the interior.

Journal Entry for September 27, 2003

I have now spent several weeks being driven from place to place through Khartoum.  I’m beginning to see things a bit better.  One of the reasons for this is the ample time one has for studying street life while stuck in Khartoum’s awful traffic.  Khartoum has somewhere around 5-7 million people in the extended urban area around the confluence on the two Niles.  I’d say at least a million of them are driving cars, riding in or on buses, trucks, scooters and motorcycles, plodding along on donkeys or walking at any one time.  Because only certain roads are paved and still fewer cut from one section of the city to another, all the traffic gravitates to the same half dozen routes.  During business hours – from around nine till six everyday except Friday – the streets are clogged.  Because many of the “paved” roads have obstacles of various sorts – holes, ripples, rough spots, train tracks – traffic often slows down even more and gyrates through a complex set of avoidance maneuvers, adding to the leisurely pace.  Through it all, the Sudanese patiently make their way by moving sharply to claim any open space and through liberal use of hand gestures.

I’ve observed that hand gestures, though in some sense equivalent to “signaling,” are quite different in effect.  As traffic moves along, people wishing to turn into the road will at the first opening edge out and claim right of way.  Someone in the car, driver or passenger, will wave the vehicle cut off to stop or slow down.  When the turn is completed, the two drivers will then exchange waves of “thanks” and “your welcome.”  Because all of this occurs in slow motion, it has a certain friendly quality, as if two villagers meeting in the town square.  This cuts the edge off what would drive motorists in other countries crazy.  Imagine moving down a road with paved area for two lanes.  Three lanes of traffic are moving down it, two in one direction and the third in another.  The two lanes in your direction are moving slow or approaching an intersection, the opposite “lane” is open for a couple of car lengths.  Off you go into that lane, against the flow of traffic to reach your turn or just to move ahead.  That third lane of traffic, now made a fourth, jerks over into the dirt until things sort out.  Now the time it takes for that fourth lane to reestablish itself creates just enough space for someone else – such as a bus driver – to edge into traffic from a side street.  Everybody is gesturing as circumstances demand.  Meanwhile an old women with a child will launch into the river of vehicles fending off the various currents with her own waving.  Remarkably no one seems to get angry – it is too hot – and there are few accidents. 

A brief word about women.  Almost all of the women in the street wear head covering.  My guess is that the non-Moslem women from the south are the ones wearing the brightly colored wrappings.  A good number wear what must be the more traditional black.  (The Arab males get to wear white robes and headdress.)  Only a few wear the complete chador.  But I can only imagine that under the black bulk are some truly sweaty and uncomfortable people.