Dance Fever

Today was a non work day for American citizens in Khartoum.

The American Embassy had recommended that we stay around our homes Friday and today. Lots of protests about the ICC.

But, today was a bust, very small scale involvement.

So, I got to sit with Aragash and Graziella. There was no water, the propane needed filling, and my neighbors had no electric next door. Typical day in Khartoum.

At some point during the morning, I had brought the laptop outside and introduced Graziella to Josh Groban.

I had an ulterior motive. She is Italian and I wanted to know what he has been singing all these years.

After four songs we determined a pattern. Love lost, love lost, love lost and love lost.

So, I switched to Janis Joplin's Take Another Little Piece of My Heart.

Hey Jude.

Then switched again to the best of Roy Orbison.

Well, if my arm was not hurt I would have been dancing away in the courtyard. As such, I danced from the waist up in my chair.

With my eyes closed and loving every beat.

What I did not see, and what was recounted for Sami and me later, was that Aragash was ...speechless, except for Oh God in arabic..

Aragash, another Eriteran, was brought up in a culture that did not allow sounds to emiate from a women's mouth. She did not, could not sing.

She could not dance. In fact, they told me a story about a woman who when making coffee, her straw mat would pop and the villagers said that the sound was coming from her.

Her husband said no. The next day, everyone came to hear the sound. She said no, but they kept coming back. Later, she took herself outside of the village and hanged herself.

So here is Aragash, watching me clap, snap, sing along, all the time with my eyes closed.

"Judi, the sun is on your face". " OK, feels good".

Eyes never open, dancing never stops.

Graziella is trying to soothe Aragash to say it is alright. But, this is in Arabic. I do not understand the conversation.

And, I keep dancing for about four more songs.

Happy in my oblivion.

My partner?

Snoopy.