My head is still spinning and my body is exhausted after 8 days of intensity in the land of my childhood. As some of you know Jo (aka mum) is doing some research on a Sufi group from which she had/has close personal friends from our time living in Sudan. On her final research trip I agreed whole heartily to accompany her on her quest to find answers to the last remaining questions. The opportunity to go back to Sudan is always one I will embrace despite the difficulty in obtaining the visa and the prospect of challenging travel and conditions once there. I embrace it because the water of the Nile and the dust of the Sahara are part of who I am. Anyone's childhood is an intricate foundation of the person they become later in life and I was lucky to have an extraordinary childhood, one which only recently have I truly learned to appreciate the value of. Growing up on the banks of the Blue Nile gave me a second language, an ability to adapt to any situation, a love of the company of all ages, an appreciation for cooking and the communality of eating, and the wonderful ability to 'ignore' racial and religious differences - they just didn't feature in our lives.
I was back in Sudan in April of 2008 during the time of my MSc at Sussex but under different circumstances as my father was working in Khartoum. It was an exciting trip as I had not been back in 14 years and it was great to reconnect with childhood friends. This times was different though as Jo and I were 'tourists' and additionally my life has changed dramatically since 2008 with a PhD and a grown up job so my perspective was a little different that 5 years previous. Rather than give you a detailed summary of the 8 days, which would be fabulous but tedious I instead reflect on the various themes and reflections I draw from the trip.
Seeing Sudan as a research assistant: I went to Islamic classes, I learnt how to pray and fast with my friends in school all in the hope to be just like everyone else - the childhood norm; however I was relatively unaware of a major element of Islam in Sudan, that of Sufism. I vaguely remember Jo talking about her friend Leila's father and grandfather and visiting the holy places with them but nothing prepared me for being immersed in it. Sitting in on the interviews and conversations that Jo has over the course of the week was eye opening as I listened to people I had known my whole life talk on elements of their existence I had previously been unaware of. At the same time none of it seemed foreign to me as if it had always been there; a situation which is indeed with case as Sufism is very much engrained in Sudanese culture and traditions rather than being a superimposed religious outlook on life. Visiting the village where the particular Sheikh (holy man) Jo is researching was fascinating as I learned more about the superstitions and beliefs that I had heard in narratives during my childhood. It was also challenging to see the extend to which beliefs can have a hold on people's lives where individuals suffering from mental illnesses are chained in mud rooms awaiting the prayers of the Sheikh and where others sleep alongside the tombs of the deceased Sheikhs in the hope of some form of retribution. But who am I to judge what measures people must take in order to survive the harsh realities of their daily lives in a society and economy that is certainly not kind to most. More and more young people in urban areas are turning to their Sheikhs in search of some alternative to the harsh realities they find themselves faced with on a daily basis. What is religion if not some sort of comfort for most who cannot face the daily toll unsupported?
Friends and 'family': In a time before mobile phone (in fact before phone at all in Sudan), Facebook, a functioning mail service or regular contact with family back in Ireland and Canada, people around us became our childhood families. Sudanese people are some of the most generous and warm people I have ever met and I know I am biased, when they have nothing they will spend their last pound on buying you a cup of tea (as happened to us in the market in Medani). This generosity was at its height in giving my family a place and a home for almost 9 years and is something you don't forget. Entering houses brought back floods of familiarity as if I had simply stepped out a week previous. It was certainly a trip down memory lane as everyone insists on recounting stories of childhood adventures and mischief that made me smile and blush at their memory. Friends have gotten married, had children, gotten new jobs, moved house and made new plans since my last visit and it was excited to experience these changes with them. Where ever we went we were treated like honoured guests being invited to picnics, weddings and a tour of a new diary factory. By the end of our week in Medani even the people around the market and hotel who hadn't known us previously were greeting us like old friends - we even had a regular coffee lady and fish restaurant! One of the highlights of reconnecting was having Zainab, the girl who looks after Dara and I as children, travel over 2 hours from her village just to come to the airport in Khartoum to wave Jo and I off on our last day; it truly was wonderful to see her and to let her know that she was still a part of our lives.
Food: Like Ireland food is a social occasion in Sudan from the preparing of the food (which takes at least 3 hours) to the consuming of it. Breakfast in Sudan is actually at about 11am and consists of a large communal tray of beans, fish/meat, eggs, Sudanese falafel (the best I swear), cheese and salad; lunch is usually about 4 or 5 when people finish work and is equally as elaborate as breakfast. Supper is then eaten at about 9 or 10 and can be similar to breakfast. As you can imagine there was a great deal of eating involved during our week in Khartoum and Medani as ever house we visited meant having another breakfast, lunch or dinner, and that does not include the array of juices, tea, coffee and sweets we were offered! There is indeed something truly wonderful about being in a place where every bit of food put on the table has been prepared from scratch. The concept of eating out is foreign to most Sudanese although there are more restaurants now in Khartoum.
Language: As happened to me on my previous visit in 2008, my whole being just bursts with life at being able to engage daily and fully in Arabic and in Sudanese Arabic at that. Words that are so context specific to Sudan and to my childhood came flooding back and were out of my mouth before I even had the chance to realize I remembered them all! Once again speaking English to Jo often resulted in a mixture of Arabic and English words without being conscious of the fact I was doing it. Language truly is a wonderful tool/weapon to have in any context as it opens doors and hearts of even the coldest strangers and I consider myself blessed indeed to have the ability.
The hard parts: I have though long and hard of how to frame this section and even considered leaving it at the high points, but then I would not be true to myself or to you my blog reader. Sudan has experienced almost 25 years of an extreme military Islamic government which has resulted in the devastation of the economy, the education system and the labour market. Sudan's schools and universities were once the pride of the country and indeed of Africa with people coming from all over the world to study in Gazeira and Khartoum Universities. Now they are but a shell of their former selves with inefficient resources and poorly paid teachers. With the loss of oil revenue from the South of Sudan and corruption at all levels the economy has all but stalled and emigration which has always been a feature has now become a necessity for the survival of entire families. It was hard to swallow as friends told us the value of their salaries now as the cost of living continues to rise rapidly. With no end in sight in terms of economy or political recovery it is hard to see what the future holds.
The dust of the Sahara fills every pore but there is a darker side to this dust in Sudan and that is the inability of people to see dirt around them in their homes and public places. As individuals the pride in one's appearance and hygiene is fundamental to any Sudanese but this does not often translate into the upkeep of their homes. It is a sad fact and one I feel deeply saddened to raise but it so striking when you are there. It is almost a helplessness or apathy at being able to engage in the upkeep of one's home and one which may have repercussions out into the society more broadly.
The third hard part for me was one which you have seen featured on my blog before and that is the element of gender. To move in a world which I was once part of but which now I am not bound to, and to see what the expectations are of my friends and daughters of family friends my age is very hard to swallow. Expectations it seems of any young girl's life today, even more so then when we lived there, is to marry before she is 25 and often to a family member. Unlike India last year where I was shocked and disturbed by how I was perceived as a woman, Sudan is a very 'safe' place as a woman as men show the utmost respect; however, there are expectations from both men and other women of what a woman's life is to be. I was often left thinking I am so incredibly lucky to be a Western woman and to be surrounded by men who at least respect me on most levels. We can strive in the West for equal rights and treatment but my visit to Sudan amongst my educated middle class friends reminded me of the situation for most women around the world.
The shock of return: After a week of linguistic, social, nutritional and visual stimulation being surrounded by the people of Sudan, my return to Dubai was a truly shocking experience. Anyone who has not been to Dubai will not be able to digest just what a strange place this city is, a place where you do not see any local people but rather are surrounded by every other possible nationality in the world. This of course involves most of the labour force as well, 90% of which is not from the UAE. It is a world of extremes in so many senses not just cosmetically but on so many levels. It has left me pondering on where the middle ground is???
Sudanese proverb very true of my childhood there: A child is a child of everyone
I was back in Sudan in April of 2008 during the time of my MSc at Sussex but under different circumstances as my father was working in Khartoum. It was an exciting trip as I had not been back in 14 years and it was great to reconnect with childhood friends. This times was different though as Jo and I were 'tourists' and additionally my life has changed dramatically since 2008 with a PhD and a grown up job so my perspective was a little different that 5 years previous. Rather than give you a detailed summary of the 8 days, which would be fabulous but tedious I instead reflect on the various themes and reflections I draw from the trip.
Seeing Sudan as a research assistant: I went to Islamic classes, I learnt how to pray and fast with my friends in school all in the hope to be just like everyone else - the childhood norm; however I was relatively unaware of a major element of Islam in Sudan, that of Sufism. I vaguely remember Jo talking about her friend Leila's father and grandfather and visiting the holy places with them but nothing prepared me for being immersed in it. Sitting in on the interviews and conversations that Jo has over the course of the week was eye opening as I listened to people I had known my whole life talk on elements of their existence I had previously been unaware of. At the same time none of it seemed foreign to me as if it had always been there; a situation which is indeed with case as Sufism is very much engrained in Sudanese culture and traditions rather than being a superimposed religious outlook on life. Visiting the village where the particular Sheikh (holy man) Jo is researching was fascinating as I learned more about the superstitions and beliefs that I had heard in narratives during my childhood. It was also challenging to see the extend to which beliefs can have a hold on people's lives where individuals suffering from mental illnesses are chained in mud rooms awaiting the prayers of the Sheikh and where others sleep alongside the tombs of the deceased Sheikhs in the hope of some form of retribution. But who am I to judge what measures people must take in order to survive the harsh realities of their daily lives in a society and economy that is certainly not kind to most. More and more young people in urban areas are turning to their Sheikhs in search of some alternative to the harsh realities they find themselves faced with on a daily basis. What is religion if not some sort of comfort for most who cannot face the daily toll unsupported?
Friends and 'family': In a time before mobile phone (in fact before phone at all in Sudan), Facebook, a functioning mail service or regular contact with family back in Ireland and Canada, people around us became our childhood families. Sudanese people are some of the most generous and warm people I have ever met and I know I am biased, when they have nothing they will spend their last pound on buying you a cup of tea (as happened to us in the market in Medani). This generosity was at its height in giving my family a place and a home for almost 9 years and is something you don't forget. Entering houses brought back floods of familiarity as if I had simply stepped out a week previous. It was certainly a trip down memory lane as everyone insists on recounting stories of childhood adventures and mischief that made me smile and blush at their memory. Friends have gotten married, had children, gotten new jobs, moved house and made new plans since my last visit and it was excited to experience these changes with them. Where ever we went we were treated like honoured guests being invited to picnics, weddings and a tour of a new diary factory. By the end of our week in Medani even the people around the market and hotel who hadn't known us previously were greeting us like old friends - we even had a regular coffee lady and fish restaurant! One of the highlights of reconnecting was having Zainab, the girl who looks after Dara and I as children, travel over 2 hours from her village just to come to the airport in Khartoum to wave Jo and I off on our last day; it truly was wonderful to see her and to let her know that she was still a part of our lives.
Food: Like Ireland food is a social occasion in Sudan from the preparing of the food (which takes at least 3 hours) to the consuming of it. Breakfast in Sudan is actually at about 11am and consists of a large communal tray of beans, fish/meat, eggs, Sudanese falafel (the best I swear), cheese and salad; lunch is usually about 4 or 5 when people finish work and is equally as elaborate as breakfast. Supper is then eaten at about 9 or 10 and can be similar to breakfast. As you can imagine there was a great deal of eating involved during our week in Khartoum and Medani as ever house we visited meant having another breakfast, lunch or dinner, and that does not include the array of juices, tea, coffee and sweets we were offered! There is indeed something truly wonderful about being in a place where every bit of food put on the table has been prepared from scratch. The concept of eating out is foreign to most Sudanese although there are more restaurants now in Khartoum.
Language: As happened to me on my previous visit in 2008, my whole being just bursts with life at being able to engage daily and fully in Arabic and in Sudanese Arabic at that. Words that are so context specific to Sudan and to my childhood came flooding back and were out of my mouth before I even had the chance to realize I remembered them all! Once again speaking English to Jo often resulted in a mixture of Arabic and English words without being conscious of the fact I was doing it. Language truly is a wonderful tool/weapon to have in any context as it opens doors and hearts of even the coldest strangers and I consider myself blessed indeed to have the ability.
The hard parts: I have though long and hard of how to frame this section and even considered leaving it at the high points, but then I would not be true to myself or to you my blog reader. Sudan has experienced almost 25 years of an extreme military Islamic government which has resulted in the devastation of the economy, the education system and the labour market. Sudan's schools and universities were once the pride of the country and indeed of Africa with people coming from all over the world to study in Gazeira and Khartoum Universities. Now they are but a shell of their former selves with inefficient resources and poorly paid teachers. With the loss of oil revenue from the South of Sudan and corruption at all levels the economy has all but stalled and emigration which has always been a feature has now become a necessity for the survival of entire families. It was hard to swallow as friends told us the value of their salaries now as the cost of living continues to rise rapidly. With no end in sight in terms of economy or political recovery it is hard to see what the future holds.
The dust of the Sahara fills every pore but there is a darker side to this dust in Sudan and that is the inability of people to see dirt around them in their homes and public places. As individuals the pride in one's appearance and hygiene is fundamental to any Sudanese but this does not often translate into the upkeep of their homes. It is a sad fact and one I feel deeply saddened to raise but it so striking when you are there. It is almost a helplessness or apathy at being able to engage in the upkeep of one's home and one which may have repercussions out into the society more broadly.
The third hard part for me was one which you have seen featured on my blog before and that is the element of gender. To move in a world which I was once part of but which now I am not bound to, and to see what the expectations are of my friends and daughters of family friends my age is very hard to swallow. Expectations it seems of any young girl's life today, even more so then when we lived there, is to marry before she is 25 and often to a family member. Unlike India last year where I was shocked and disturbed by how I was perceived as a woman, Sudan is a very 'safe' place as a woman as men show the utmost respect; however, there are expectations from both men and other women of what a woman's life is to be. I was often left thinking I am so incredibly lucky to be a Western woman and to be surrounded by men who at least respect me on most levels. We can strive in the West for equal rights and treatment but my visit to Sudan amongst my educated middle class friends reminded me of the situation for most women around the world.
The shock of return: After a week of linguistic, social, nutritional and visual stimulation being surrounded by the people of Sudan, my return to Dubai was a truly shocking experience. Anyone who has not been to Dubai will not be able to digest just what a strange place this city is, a place where you do not see any local people but rather are surrounded by every other possible nationality in the world. This of course involves most of the labour force as well, 90% of which is not from the UAE. It is a world of extremes in so many senses not just cosmetically but on so many levels. It has left me pondering on where the middle ground is???
Sudanese proverb very true of my childhood there: A child is a child of everyone
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| Lena (my best friend in primary school), her 2 year old adorable daughter Sara and I |
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| Me and a Sufi follower sporting our sunglasses |
2 comments:
Thanks for sharing! It is so interesting to read about a place that I know so little about as Sudan. I'm happy to hear that you mostly had a good experience with returning to your childhood country!
a wonderful read. thank you! x
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