Hello North Africa, Hello Desert - Matt

Well we'd waited long enough for our Sudanese visa. We tried over two months ago in Kenya and bureaucratic errors caused that to fail so we tried again in Addis Ababa. On a Monday, having heard nothing from the embassy or from our sponsor in Sudan who had said they would contact us when it was ready, we decided to try go to the embassy one last time and see if it was there and lo and behold it was. It looks like it had actually been there for four or five days. So it was on into Sudan for us but not without one last curve ball from Ethiopia.

Sam's aunt was kind enough to offer up some of her unused airline miles to buy us a plane ticket from Addis to Khartoum since we were starting to run short on time and we'd already done the majority of the distance to Khartoum when we went to Gondar. We didn't relish the idea of two more days on Ethiopian buses. So we appeared at the airport early two days later and are told that our ticket, while reserved, were not booked. Not sure what that means. We had a reservation number and a confirmation number but not the magical ticket number which no one ever daned to email us. We're then told that we couldn't even purchase tickets for this, the only, flight to Khartoum today. It doesn't look like we're going to Sudan today. Somewhat annoyed, as you might imagine, we scrambled in the airport for any internet connection to check our booking (which was much harder than you would expect for an international airport in the city which is host to the African Union). Check booking. Go back to counter to talk about it. Still no dice but now we can buy a ticket for 380 bucks for some reason. Discuss options. Go back to counter. Price is now 260. Interesting. Just a little goodbye kiss from Ethiopia.

So we ended up making it to Sudan after all. The elusive jewel of the Cape to Cairo. To bleak sand dunes and arid desert covering this particular portion of the Axis of Evil. To Khartoum. Where Osama Bin Laden hid out in in the 90s with his al-Qaeda cronies. Where the White Nile finally absorbs the Blue and the both make there long ponderous march north to the Mediterranean Sea. With this in mind we stepped off the airplane expecting a stark difference from the rest of Africa.

The first thing any non-Sudanese person will notice upon entering the country is the money. Because of the US sanctions on Sudan the country is unable to get any US currency through the normal channels. To get around this they require that all foreigners, not just US, bring US Dollars to exchange for Sudanese Pounds. Since the sanctions also mean that the entire country is not on the global banking network none of the ATMs here will work for foreigners. These two facts mean that one has to bring all the money they expect to spend in the country in the form of US Dollars, no other currency is accepted in exchange and you can't get any more once here. Sam and I didn't exactly have a lot. Working in our favor, however, was the black market: circumventing unrealistic governmental controls since the dawn of civilization. The official exchange rate is 1 USD to around 6.5 SDP. However we were immediately told by helpful people working in the airport that we could exchange our dollars for 9 SDP. Since being in the country we've heard as much as 12 SDP for 1 USD. So that gave us a little more dispensable cash than expected.

The next thing we noticed was that Khartoum is one of the nicer capitals we've seen

The Corinthia Hotel, also know as Qaddafi's Egg

in Africa. It is a small relatively quiet city, but even so the traffic is horrendous. It is cleaner than any major metropolitan area we've been to since we left South Africa. There are virtually no homeless on the streets, a huge departure from the rest of Africa. It is hot and sand piles up on the sidewalks and on the sides of road even though the entire city is paved. It is as though the sand slowly seeps up through the cracks and the sewers as the city sinks into the desert.

Khartoum is home to some nice museums and the confluence of the two immense Niles. We tried to plan our time in the city around the heat of the day, spending them in museums or A/C'd restaurants. In the evenings is when Sudan seems to come alive with people sitting along the Nile or outside restaurants socializing till close to midnight, drinking coffee and tea and smoking hookah.

One of many shady spots to sit, socialize and drink some tea.

Khartoum is also the capital of Sufi Islam in the more western Muslim states and on our short stay in the capital city we were fortunate enough to make it to Omdurman, across the river from Khartoum, and to the Hamid Al-Nil tomb in the middle of a large Muslim cemetery on a Friday evening to experience the Sufi traditional prayer practices and the whirling dervishes. This was a stimulus heavy event with much dancing, drums, incense and chanting. Everyone is exceedingly friendly and eager to talk with foreigners about their religion. From the Sufis we talked to, this branch of Islam seems to me more like new-age christian movement in America in terms of peace, love and good will towards your fellow man mixed in with strange ritual and tradition. We got there early and were bought tea and food by some regulars while we waited for the ceremony to really get going. Not really knowing what to expect, we watched for over four hours as the sun descended to the horizon and the crowd and chaos grew. The crowd in front of the temple started with just three or four people banging drums and chanting and dancing in a circle in front of the mosque. It got bigger and bigger. Then a dump truck full of people yelling and professing their

Hamid al-Nil tomb throng with Sufis

love for Allah arrived, equipped with drums and speakers, and it truly became a party. After much whirling, stomping and singing the sun finally went down and it was time to pray to Mecca for an hour before starting it all up again and going till midnight. We'd met a man in his early 30s named Abdu before the ceremony and he offered to give us a ride with his mother back to our hostel if we were willing to wait for him to pray. Everyone was exceedingly nice and all seemed to have one question, in varying forms, on their minds; "why does America hate us?"

We have been asked this a multitude of times since arrival in Sudan to which we have no other answer than "our governments are stupid and American news media make people paranoid." So now I'll fulfill the request of many Sudanese, to communicate this message: The Sudanese have no ill will towards Americans. In fact, they really seem to like us. They are eager to learn English and want to come and see New York. They want Americans to come and see their country. Sudan is the first time since South Africa that someone coming up to us on the street isn't something to guard against but something to be welcomed. We are still stared at but not nearly as much and with much more subtly. The people do their best to be helpful and welcoming even if the language barriers means they can't even understand our problem they will track down someone who can. Sudan is a breath of fresh air after Ethiopia, which is far away on the other side of the spectrum.

This is not to say that there are not dangerous parts of Sudan. Every traveller we meet doing some sort of pan-African journey has stories about Sudan and especially South Sudan and Darfur. The stories you hear are of banditry and locals taking pot shots at passing ferries, similar to stories we heard about the region south of Moyale, but these stories are back up'd with civil wars and a clear lack of governmental control. These rumors almost exclusively apply to the regions to the south and to the east of Khartoum. Everything north and west of the capitol seems positively decent.

Highway from Karima to Atbara

So, with our meager amount of money we decided that it would be best to spend it quick, see the sights we can and get out quick. Blitz Sudan. Rented a car for three days, that cost us about half the total amount of money we had, and pushed out intothe sand for a tour of desert ruins, sand blown over highways and rocks burnt black from 360 days of sun a year. Finally. Finally I am reaching that which has been a main goal from the start. In fact, the first time I heard of abandoned Nubian pyramids and ruins in the middle of the desert in Sudan when I was 17 I've been dying to get here. Now we are here, in Sudan, in the desert, making it a reality of our own.

Approaching the pyramids at Jebel Barkal

Seeing how much I've desired getting here I don't have much to say. We've seen a 4500 year old temple to Amun-Ra (the sun god) carved into the Mountain of Jebel Barkal. We've seen pyramids older than those in Giza drowning in sand with their peaks destroyed by Italian treasure hunters. We've camped next to ruins on the side of the road slowly being swallowed by sand that could be anywhere from 20 to 2000 years old. There are abandoned mud-brick walls every where and all seem to hark back to a less industrialized age. The profoundness of these experiences do not come across well in text but must be experienced for ones self.

Apart from the car rental and just the overall bureaucratic nightmare that is Sudan, the country is quite inexpensive. A large meal can be bought for two USD and a bed in a courtyard would cost about the same. However you are free to lay out a sleeping mat anywhere you like outside of the cities including, if you have a quick tongue, next to pyramids over 4000 years old.

Entering Wadi Halfa

Our tour of the desert complete we dropped the car off in Khartoum and made the 13 hour bus ride north to Wadi Halfa, the last stop in Sudan and stepping stone to Egypt. We arrived thinking we had quite a bit more Sudanese money left than we had anticipated but had heard that there are some exit fees when leaving Sudan, so it might come in handy. As it turns our we had just enough to get over the border. Actually five USD short but I had a filthy fiver from Zimbabwe that no one had been willing to exchange, for goods, services or currency, that I convinced the border man to take since we had no other money and no way of getting any. We had heard that people were supposed to register with the police after arriving in Sudan. No official ever told us anything about it so we neglected to do it. But upon leaving the country they got angry at us and made us register upon our exit. Then we bounced back and forth between various windows paying people small amounts of money in exchange for various slips of paper. That allowed us to get our stamp out of the country. From Khartoum to Wadi Halfa was 1000 kms and took us 13 hours. Wadi Halfa to Aswan is 350 kms and took us 14 hours. We sat at the Egyptian border for a seemingly unending amount of time. Security is tight here on the border.

Sudan is great and I cannot recommend it enough for those who desire to get away from western comforts and appeasement and who can handle the dust and the heat. The people are friendly, polite and respectful. The country is relatively clean and the history is rich. It will make you wonder why you thought you might ever be in danger in a place like this.