Khartoum, the capital city of northern Sudan, reminds me of the city of Atlanta, Ga. Atlanta, during the late 1970’s and into the 1990’s, kept annexing outlying cities and making them part of the city itself. Well, Khartoum does the same thing.
The trail ride took around and hour and half, moving through Khartoum, into Omdurman and parts north.
Omdurman is very old, it is the place of the Mahdi's Romb.
However, it has grown outward as the refugees from Nuba Mountain, Ethiopia, Darfur, Juba, and other parts south and west traveled to Khartoum in the hopes of finding shelter, food, water, and safety from Sudan’s internal war and it‘s war with Ethiopia.
Here is a link to paste to see spectacular pictures of the Tomb www.pbase.com/tiggy67/image
I rode the trail not part of a wagon train pulled by horses, but in a caravan of vans.
The vans did not carry household goods and memories from home, but young adults from All Saints Cathedral Khartoum traveling to Emmanuel Church’s Youth Drama Day.
Emmanuel Episcopal Church, Tito’s church, is set in the middle of one of the “villages” that have transitioned from makeshift plastic hut housing to mud-brick homes, then to clay brick homes, in some cases. Most of the homes are one story and are surrounded by some sort of enclosure, whether it be mud or brick wall, or fence or trees.
The road to Omdurman, not anything like the Hope/Crosby movies, started as clean asphalt, to asphalt and dirt, to dirt. Lots of dirt, blowing everywhere. And, with the recent rain, some passageways were blocked by temporary lakes when we exited the main roadway.
Our group was the first to arrive and I sought out Tito. I was given a tour of the church which, upon entering, I thought I was back in the southwestern part of the United States.
The ceiling is low and there are very few windows. The church is always filled and seating, except for the Bishop’s and priests chairs, are made of dried mud and clay. Easily rebuilt when it starts to crumble. In the heat of the afternoon, I took solace in this quiet place. The paintings at the front of the nave were beautiful. In addition, it seems to be the practice here in northern Sudan to light up the cross at the front of the church with some sort of lights, twinkling or otherwise.
I do not get a chance to exit the church, since dinner is now being served. The group devours the chicken, gizzards, gravy and I eat bread, tomatoes and cucumbers and the most wonderful type of pudding. But, the room is very hot, everyone sweats and there is no escaping until the last person to sit down stands up.
People are now moving into seats and the sun is making its descent to the left of us. The stage is surround by huge rugs, like Persian, though a much lighter weight. This is the practice that I have seen all over Khartoum. They are royal red and gold colored.
I move around to take pictures of the participants, the children waiting in anticipation,
the donkeys, the man selling coal for cooking, the woman selling grasses, the watering hole, everything that will help me remember the day.
Tito does not like me sitting in the back and keeps moving me forward. He also finds one of the teacher trainees from the Episcopal Church program to translate for me. I am lucky. He normally would have been singing with the choir, but he is just back from training in Nuba Mountain. His wife is in the choir.
The choir of Emmanuel Church is beyond words. How to describe a sound that motivated individuals to move the front to dance, including a Bishop, showing their devotion to Christ. How to describe a sound so wonderful that I did not need to understand the words. A member of All Saints was recording the event, but I know it could not have done them justice.
In the book What is the What by Dave Eggers, Valentino states the “If you have not heard a Sudanese speech, I must explain that when we stand to speak, our comments are rarely brief.” That was true today.
Each priest that took the podium to introduce his group took way too long. So long, that the sun had set before the first group took the stage.
In spite of that, they were wonderful. Skits on using cell phones to fool family members, friends etc. as to where you really are, or during shopping in the markets people try to take advantage of you with high prices and inferior products. There was even a skit about Bollywood. Imagine, an African take off on a Bollywood movie.
Teach a Child Right Way
To Live While is Young
Then When He Grows Older He Will
Continue Living That Way
Welcome to Sudan.
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