Rain, Rain, Go Away

I had sweet envisions of a day of rain in the desert.

Everything would come alive, trees and bushes would look greener and I would hear the frogs that come up out of the ground, croaking away.

Not so.

This place is muddy.

The desert is sand, but all the construction in the desert is with dirt and clay. Dirt is slippery when wet.

It is now 10:30 AM and Daniel Deng and I are the only two people who have arrived.

I grabbed my black rubber shoes out of the suitcase, slipped on 3/4 dark pants, swung my laptop over my shoulder and off I went at 8 AM.

I should add that I walked very slowly weaving in and out of the sand and no sand walking areas. Rickshaws wer running and I made it to work by 8:30 AM. Daniel greeted me at the door.

When I asked him about who might come into work he stated:

Those that like to work will come in, those that like to sleep will not.

Aptly put. I might add that this applies to days without rain.

The Beatles and Todd Rundgren both sang a song about Rain and your state of mind. Here are some of the lyrics.

If the rain comes
They run and hide their heads
They might as well be dead
If the rain comes
If the rain comes

Sudan will have trouble competing with the rest of the industrial world. They think appointments are relative to whenever they finally show up. Latemess is blamed on traffic. If they are going to be late, they never call.

And, they do not apologize, for anything. Saying sorry has as much meaning as if they had said, the sky is blue.

They try to fight this inclination, but usually lose the battle.

In addition, they have not had lessons in manners in Sudan. This is one British Institution that did not remain after they retreated. Schools yes, manners no.

In all seriousness, in parts of Khartoum and Omdurman, people who have built houses of mud bricks are losing their homes today. They will be sleeping outside, eating outside, in order not to be trapped if a roof or wall collapses.

Long periods of heavy rain is feared here. It is not welcome. There is no place for the rain to go. The ground is hard from all the heat. The water sits and then starts to smell. The garbage that has been thrown from cars, and houses, and walkers runs down the streets looking for outlets.

Of course, it ends up in the Nile.

The Nile looks beautiful from the air, but I would hate to be at the receiving end in Egypt. Along with the life giving water each year, comes miles and miles of Sudan garbage.

There was an editorial in yesterday's English language newpaper speaking about this garbage all over Khartoum, in rich and poor sections alike. The ending quote was this from an ex-patriot:

"Khartoum is a place that makes you appreciate your city when you return home."

Make no mistake, Khartoum is a beautiful place, but I am a frustrated environmentalist in a city that does not know that word.

Oh, that they would.

Rain Rain Go Away
Come Again Another Day

Preferrably September.