I am an ignorant tourist

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So I sit on the street and drink a coffee. Its a few degrees over 40c and the water for the coffee is being boiled on a charcoal fire, so its probably about 100C where I am sitting. I sit on an up turned Nestle powered milk can, its a good stood. The coffee pot is an old can that's had a spout welded onto it. The coffee is good, its not too sweet and has been flavored with ginger and cardamom. It has a bite and clears my sleepy head. Frankincense burns in a small pot and the air smells sweet. The "Tea Lady" who makes my coffee is beautiful. She tall, black and elegant. In fact she one of the most elegant people I've ever seen. Her hands and feet and maybe more, are painted with henna, but not in the Arabic designs I've seen before. This is different, this is African. She makes tea and coffee for the passers by and I wonder why she's here.

I feel more like an ignorant tourist than I ever have. This city is a sea of different looking people none of which I understand. The story of the Tea Lady could be tragic, could be harsh , could rip your heart out and put tears in your eyes, could be the next "Times Book of the month", but for now she just an Tea Lady, just a very elegant one at that.

Sudan seems to suffered more wars than most. Twenty one years of civil war have taken it toll. At the present there seems to be problems in the south, the east and the west. How many displaced people are there in Sudan, millions I'm told, but nobody has given me a figure. As I wonder the streets I can't help feel how detached I am from all of it. I must pass murderous soldiers and SPLM rebels at the same time. I am oblivious to it all.

I have breakfast with a Sudanese friend. We met on the ferry and as an ex member of the British Labour party and Bromsgrove Rovers FC star he's great company. I eat a huge Nile Perch washed down with Pepsi and he tells me alcohol is widely available in Khartoum. My ears prick up - 3 weeks without a beer. I guess the black market will always flourish over political or religious ideology. He points out where everyone in the restaurant is from. The waiters are Ethiopian, the guys behind from the south, the table opposite Darfur. He says the government is committed to the peace agreement but certain factions of the SPLM (government opposed rebels) aren't and they've started fighting amongst themselves. He says the government is taking steps in the right direction on many things, but really the government is harsh and awful and everybody wants them out. He says that the Sudanese are very tolerant of each others religions and that Mosques sit side by side Church's, he says wars are over poverty, and social depravation. He asks why oil and gold revenues can't be used to fund education and healthcare. We find a tea lady and drink and chat and I learn some more things I didn't know about Sudan.

Displaced people and refugees are everywhere some dark some light, some colourful, others bland. Scar's of the cheeks of some and the heads of others, must be some sort of tribal affiliation but I do not know which. I find out that there are 265 languages spoken in Sudan and thousands of different dialects of these languages. Khartoum is made up of over 50% displaced people and refugees. It used to be slightly less than 50% but the recent problems in Darfur now mean there's more "foreigners" than Khartoumers themselves. They say the population is somewhere between 3-5 million which seems a lot of people to be unsure about. But as refugees are unsure about their future, governments departments are unsure about their numbers.

My most difficult decision of the day is whether to have an ice cold fresh mango juice or a guava juice. I have both, but sometimes to stop myself feeling rich and imperialist and a pig I buy a mango at one place then walk around the corner and buy a guava somewhere else. I eat fuul, its fantastic. Mashed beans, with added onions, tomato and cheese. Chuck in some chili and eat with fresh bread very similar to ciabatta. The fish from the Nile is good and bird flu doesn't seem to stopped chickens being grilled in the street. The treats of an ignorant tourist. Its all very cheap but I guess it just shows how low the wages are.

I wonder about going to see the pharmaceutical factory the Americans bombed in '98. Its just out of town I'd told, but I'm too lazy or embarrassed to go there. The Americans apologised in the end and admitted that, yes actually it was just a pharmaceutical factory and that it was not making the materials for chemical weapons, and that they were very sorry. It was valued at 60 million and its owner reportedly received a lot more than that in compensation from the US government. It wasn't the nasty Bush who ordered the bombing but the ever sentimentalised Bill Clinton who's decision it was. I think at the time he was finding it difficult to keep his dick in his trousers, I guess the Libyans were just glad it wasn't them, it normally seems to be.

I'd only heard one Bin Laden comment since entering the country. When in Abri the restaurant owner had jokingly said "No bin laden here" when welcoming us to Sudan. Bin Laden built a road here, its one of just a few that is decent. Government money disappears when it comes to public spending and I'm told many a road due to build never materialises. I wonder whether they is sentiment and feelings for Bin Laden, but again am ignorant and too scared to ask.

I head to the Department of Humanitarian Affairs to obtain a travel visa to go to the Eritrean border. I photo copy my passport and visa three times in preparation and have a pocket full of passport photo's. Its not enough, four photocopy's are needed of my passport so I venture down the street to get some more. Its only a visit to two offices and a come back tomorrow so has been rather painless. After entering the country I'd had to register at the police station. This had involved a visit to no less than seven different offices and an US$30 to be paid, this is after the US$100 visa charge. I complained how expensive it was to my friend but he reminded me of the price the British charge for visa's.

I return to next day only be told that although my permits have been approved it will cost US$32. That's too much, I only have US$120 to my name and have no way to obtain funds whilst in Sudan. The US trade embargo has blocked the use of Visa cards and Amex travellers Cheques. I head back to my tent on the banks of the Nile and ponder what to do. I decide just to head to Ethiopia as originally planned and start to clean the sand out of my bicycle in preparation.

I head to the garage to buy some diesel to clean by bike with, the petrol pump guy asks if I'm Syrian or Turkish and I decide my beard needs a serious trim. We chat and he refuse's money for my half litre of fuel. I take a sarong to the market to be fixed. The tailor sews up the rip and refuses payment. Later, I try to buy a Sudan sticker to put on my bike and the mechanic again refuses payment. I head to the barber to have my beard trimmed. I'm pushed to the front of the queue which I try to refuse but they insist. He does a good job of my beard trim but also chooses to shave my forehead and nose (am I that Hairy!?!?). I realise I will miss this place when I am gone.

I wonder the cities suburbs some more and see that they are a wash with construction building. The state nationalisation happened in 1969 and only in the last few years has privatisation appeared. The economy is at a 10% growth and things are looking up, at least for some. I saw a digitally enhanced photo of the new water front development. Its massive, modern and screaming, lights years away from the sand roads which still litter the city centre. The blueprint in Dubai, Abu Dhabi, The Emirates. Counties which went from economies based on farming camels and diving for pearls to massive economic power houses in 25 years. How can that not be an inspiration, a role model - the rich happy person that everyone is jealous of. I hope in all its dust, its heat, its displaced people and its ice cold fruit juices it doesn't lose its identity, its chaos, its soul, and become as sterile and shallow as the rest of the commercialised world.

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