Everybody is a winner!

Doing sport can be such fun! But unfortunately not always possible for children with a disability. Today, a special sports day for children with disabilities was organised in Khartoum and we were very happy to help out as volunteers. Together with two of Frank's colleagues we supported the children with fun sports and games throughout the day. It was so great to see the smiles on the faces of the children; they seemed to be having the time of their life! Unfortunately the sun was also shining happily, which made the afternoon activities almost impossible to execute. But the children didn't seemed to be too bothered by the heat, and took the opportunity to dance in the shade of the trees on the side of the football pitch. As a reward they all received a nice medal at the closure of this memorable sporty day, where indeed everybody was a winner!

  

Balancing

The house next door is being renovated and painted. Since Frank and I recently moved into the small house on the top floor of our office building, I have a good view of the building and painting processes of the neighbours' house. All day long, the men put their energy in making the house look beautiful and shiny. But besides being able to hold a paintbrush, these men need to have good balancing skills as well. Instead of stable, well-built scaffoldings they need to make the best of their slightly wobbly construction with thin slats and wrapped-around ropes. I find the balancing skills of these hard-working men truly impressive and admirable. But I have to say that it also takes a lot of courage to even watch them!

Soap watchers

Yesterday I was invited to join a Sudanese friend of mine to visit the International Trade Fair in Khartoum. Before we would head off to the fair grounds we would 'quickly' stop by her house. As expected, the smell of freshly prepared food already reached me before I had even entered the house; there was a large plate of food waiting for us to be finished first! After this lovely meal my friend said she was going to wash herself and prepare for prayers. "In the meantime you can join my mother and sister in the other room", she said. "Do you like soap?". For a moment I thought I was about to get a washing treatment or scrub, but as soon as we entered the room and I saw her mother looking at the small box which had been placed in the corner of the room, I knew she meant soap programmes on TV! I sat down on one of the local beds in the room where her friendly mum and sister had also situated themselves comfortably, and watched the soap with them. Although I couldn't understand a word, I noticed instantly that the themes of the programme where more or less universal. Likewise the reactions of the viewers; sometimes my friend's mum would lift her hand or make gestures to show that she agreed or disagreed with what happened in the soap world on TV. At some point she put her fingers to her mouth and shook her head at the same time, as explaining that one of the actresses was wearing far too much red lipstick, according to her. It took some time before my friend and her two sisters, who also wanted to join us to the International Fair, were ready with their perfume rituals. And cousin Mohamed, who had the male task to guide us around and take care of us during our evening out, took even longer with choosing the best shirt to wear. But too be quite honest, I really enjoyed myself in the meantime with the soap in the small TV room; and even more with looking at the soap watchers!

The voice

Hearing someone's voice without being able to see him or her always makes me curious. Here in Khartoum, I hear the same voice at least five times a day, but I would not recognise the 'person behind this voice' on the street. This anonymous voice echoes daily through the loud(!) speakers of the nearby mosque with a punctual regularity like a Swiss watch. And the more I listen to the voice, the more curious I get.  Not particularly because I think it's the most beautiful voice I have ever heard; in fact it is not always that relaxing to hear it every morning at 4.30 am. But I have noticed that the voice often seems to take a pause to produce some other sounds as well; almost all his sentences begin with an insistent cough or loud throat scraping sound. Maybe an itchy throat? Whenever I hear these coughs, I can't help myself feeling wanting to offer him a refreshing mint or sweet (-this would be good concept for a Sudanese TV commercial for throat sweets, by the way!-). On the other hand, this coughing could also simply be a nervous habit of the voice? I can imagine it would make him nervous to realize that so many people in the area will be hearing him sing and talk. A strong cough after a long sentence could maybe give him the change get ready for the next long sentence. Who knows? Maybe one day I will get an answer to my questions. Until then I guess I will just keep my ears and my imagination open. Oh, there it comes again!

Simple wood

Today's plan was to buy a cupboard for our new modest house on the top floor of the office building. One of Frank's Sudanese colleagues came with us to help us on our search and bargaining challenge, which tends to be a necessity here in Sudan. Together with one of the drivers we set off in good spirit this morning and they brought us to various wholesale places and fancy furniture shops. Frank and I kept looking at each other and sensing that it was not really what we were looking for. After 1,5 hour we finally paused our journey. Frank sighed and explained that we just wanted something simple and basic. That had clearly triggered the driver. His face lit up while he said: "My uncle is a carpenter. Maybe we can go and see him?". This sounded like a really good idea, so with renewed energy we all headed of to the wood workshop on the other side of town. Arriving in the wood work area surely felt differently than our welcome in the big factories and shops we had been visiting that morning. The friendly uncle with his long grey beard gave us a small seat and poured some nice tea for all of us. In the midst of the nice smelling wood and the dusty sand this man really took his time to listen to our ideas and wishes. After our joined sketch had been made, we thanked each other happily for doing business. While driving away I saw 'our' friendly uncle waving us goodbye from his tiny, dusty wood workshop. He was holding up his thumb as he wanted to show us that everything will be okay with our cupboard. That definitely underlined what I felt all along: Nothing beats a simple and straight forward wood workshop!