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The heads of the UN bodies came to visit today, they floated round the table using rhetoric to propel themselves from one end of the room to the other whilst outside their bodies ran into the windows attempting to dance a waltz.
All very poetic.
This week has been find a flat in Sudan week. Hoardes of ex-pats are locked in a cardboard container, given 10 times the annual salary of the average Sudanese, are then spun in a circle blindfold and then released and given one week to find a flat or die. There are only 10 ex pats to one flat, they’re forced to wear clown size shoes just for the amusement of nations of tv viewers, and are released into a vicious market full of live pitfalls that eat the cash out of their hands and flights of steps that they have to walk up backwards while waving their passports in time to the national anthem.
With great business aplomb and guided by the wisdom of my years I have signed a lease to a flat which doesn’t exist yet. In the process I have met the silliest group of people in Sudan and thus made some firm friends. I will be living with a Moroccan woman called Aisha who is incredibly strong minded and good natured, who loves to haggle irregardless of what it is we are talking about, "I think we should paint it white" "We’ll paint half of it…" and carefully contemplates jokes before laughing at them.
We’ll be renting, on seperate tenant agreements (this is where being in Sudan gets things horribly complicated) from her work colleague Fadi, who is half Sudanese half British seems quiet until he either breaks out into song or a viciously accurate imitation of his friends (which usually start (in a proper London accent) with "You are such a dickhead, yani I mean, can you believe this guy this is what he says…"). His imitations are usually triggered by Nassir (Sudanese), the extrovert of the group, who has long curly hair that he curls round his fingers when distracted (which seems to be always) and says that once he curled it so much he couldn’t get his finger out of his hair.
Nassir, as far as I can tell, is unable to get past 2 minutes of a conversation without either commenting on himself or others "I’m like Humpty Dumpty aren’t I, You’re creative aren’t you etc" or finding something in the conversation or surroundings uproarously funny. He has a huge belly laugh that is punctuated by his long curly hair bouncing as he rocks. He talks all the time to the detriment of conversation with his brother Mohamed, who is a complete gadget freak and cannot sit down without ranging them in front of him as if worried he might forget the existence of one of them.
These three have adopted me and Aisha and are currently doing up a flat that belongs to Fadi and that, over the last three years, he never got round to finishing. There is absolutely no reason why we should be renting this flat, there are plenty of furnished finished flats to live in, it’s just that something about this project and the idiotic time we’ve been having with these guys has led to this being what we are doing. We’ve advanced rent and they’re trying to finish the flat (to our specifications) asap before Aisha has to move out of her current flat and I have to vacate my hotel - i.e. in approximately two weeks time.
In other words the worst possible scenario but bizarrely these last couple of days of oh god how can this be done insanity have been some of the funniest and most relaxing days I’ve had here.
Which possibly says a lot about Sudan, me, or my sanity, I’m not sure.
As for Khartoum, I’m beginning to get the rhythm of things here, bizarrely it’s one of the safest friendliest places I’ve lived in. It’s probably the most optimistic place to be in Sudan, this is the place where all the growth is happening, unfortunately to the detriment of other states and areas. As soon as I can manage it I’m going to go visit the south etc. Darfur is still not an option though there have been talks of possible steps towards peace in Darfur here but ask anyone about it and they’ll say "that’s what people say but I’m not holding my breath. Yani, can you imagine it? I might end up like obelix in Asterix in Spain". (Or they would if they had read it, I’m allowing myself poetic license here)
A last word, the huge birds that fight over the streets and that you can see perching on all the highest buildings here are eagles. I’m trying to persuade Nassir to help me tame one to keep on the roof of the flat - I may have to start looking into acquiring vast swathes of raw meat. Did you ever know that you’re my hero?…
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