Travel log 7 - Dongola, Karima and Khartoum

12/02/08 – 13/02/08

From Dongola we took a bus without windows across the desert to Karima where we were offered the opportunity to climb the towns hill, for $20 (free for Sudanese), which we declined. The next day we took the seven hour luxury bus ride to Khartoum. The first class atmosphere was maintained by spraying air freshener into the air conditioner system periodically and the complimentary sweets and ‘Mikey Juice’. As usual, sitting and watching the landscape slip past was exhausting so we arrived in Khartoum in no mood to negotiate its hectic and dusty streets in search of a hotel.

14/02/08 – 21/02/08
There were too many crippled people on the streets. There were children who crawled across the road with flip-flops on their hands. People with missing limbs, blind, no toes, broken backs. When we ate at one particular restaurant a silent procession of mutilated people stood looking in at us, arms outstretched until they were moved on by the management.

Our time was spent failing, after waiting a week, to get an Eritrean visa, getting an Ethiopian visa in three hours and getting a travel permit to visit the Nuba Mountains, South of Khartoum. This was all interspered with drinking tea and coffee at the many roadside squats consisting of a woman hostess, charcoal stove and plastic furniture all the time trying to get a better understanding of the political situation in Sudan and the life of ordinary Sudanese.

During one night, Khartoum’s power went out. There was a stillness over the city that made it clear that everyone had been shouting. It coughed back into life as thousands of generators started up, providing power for the classy hotels and big shops. The cities refuse system appeared to involving putting rubbish into the street and then at night the outcasts in green boiler suits collect it. One such man, bearded, with one milky eye and child’s flip flops stood too close to us as we sat in stools on the curb drinking tea in the night, ‘Where is God? God has left Sudan! …You will find God in Africa’ he proclaimed, jabbing at us and the heavens.

As with most developing nations cities there is a huge gulf between rich and poor and between modern and old but they all get thrown in together. Women in burkas on cell phones, the minimalist, iridescent blue ‘Ministry for Justice’ which administers lashes to criminals above the age of ten, amputations for robbery and women are sentenced to being stoned to death for adultery. All part of sharia law which is supposed to govern the land although it is more relaxed these days than it used to be.

On a Friday afternoon we jouneyed to the outskirts of Khartoum to watch Sudanese wrestling. The wrestling was held in an enclosure, pegged out with brightly colored fabric and in the centre two concentric circles were painted. Two teams fought for supremacy of the arena as each half of the crowd cheered on their side flamboyantly. While the wrestling was easy to understand, the selection of fighters which sent the crowd into paroxysm of outrage and delight was more cryptic. Three from one team entered the inner ring - one standing, the others crouching as members from the other team then entered and pointed at their opponents, goading them who then either fought or backed off, this processed continued for a while, then all of a sudden two were fighting as we were trying to appreciate the subtle movements the wrestlers made which suddnely exploded to reach a climax with the victor emerging triumphant to be carried on the shoulders of his team mates. A clip can be seen on the right of the blog.

Excluding the wrestling Khartoum was a relatively uninteresting place and although appreciating more about the reality of modern Sudanese life. We were looking forward to heading South of Khartoum to escape the dreariness and bureaucracy that’s has plauged our time here.

We will soon post up an article about the political reality of Sudan, Darfur and the ongoing conflicts.