Hello all.
This is to say I made it in. The border was bureaucratic, but
friendly. The land between there and Khartoum was hot and flat and
dusty but the road was well paved and our view off it was checkered by
irrigation projects and fields of cotton and sorghum. Khartoum is all
abustle with oil money and its physical proofs of shiny just finished
and not yet finished building projects. The weather is scorching, but
there are good juices and the people know how to keep cool. We are
sleeping in tents by the banks of the Blue Nile at a place called the
Blue Nile Boating Club, the briefest of homes to many a thoroughfaring
mzungu. Or khawaja, as they call my kind here. More later, the call to
prayer is my call to eat.
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