Listening In

I remember when I was in Sudan, some of my more colorful writings came when I was sitting in the pizza joint across from the All Saints Cathedral.

It was the interactions of the people that were sitting and talking together so animatedly.

Women, covered head to foot, and sometimes hands, used the same hands to underscore what they were saying. I always wondered if their gestures meant the same in Khartoum as they did in Wilmington. Most of the time I never found out.

Now, I sit in Borders hoping to see the same types of interactions. However, at this time of the morning, not much is happening. A few early morning risers, not much else.

Yikes. The entertainment has arrived. The same man, with two grown sons in tow, who frequents Starbucks, is talking and walking on his cell phone in the restaurant. His point of view about whether or not two beers are as bad as two pieces of cake, sin wise. Temple of the body stuff.

Too bad this grown man walks around with his pants handing over his temple butt.

I am attempting to open and use T Mobile Hotspot. It is like trying to enter Fort Knox. One little entry that they do not like, you have to start all over. It is truly giving me a headache. Now I'm on hold while they upgrade for the next 15 minutes.

I bet it's the NSA's fault.

After the news about the NSA and the spying on all of us, I am reminded about Sudan. At least there, everyone knew what was happening.

Sudani, the phone and Internet provider, listened to everything all the time on behalf of the government. We were told not to discuss politics, the US, Darfur, etc. They would be listening. All important conversations were conducted in person.

Now, I have returned and voila. Who would have thought that going to Sudan would be training for the US?

Maybe I should go back and provide black write-overs for the sensitive words.

Better yet after reading this delete the posting and rip out your tongue.