- So you're heading to Sudan? Then forget about time... - those were the words with which a talkative Egyptian saw me off at the office where I was buying a ticket for the ferry Aswan (Egypt) - Wadi Halfa (Sudan). I had known before that time is not particularly respected in Sudan, so I nodded in agreement and pointed at my hands - see, I don't wear a watch. However, five minutes later it turned out that I had not understood the meaning of what was said.
- So, when does the ferry leave? - I asked the ticket seller.
- Tomorrow, afternoon (after noon).
- More specifically...
- Well, I'm telling you - afternoon.
- At what time?
The seller was surprised at my incomprehension and answered something like this:
- According to the schedule - at four in the evening. In principle, it could happen at five or six. But from experience, it happens no earlier than seven or eight, or even nine. And if there is especially much cargo...
- I see. And when should I arrive at the port?
- The port gates close at one in the afternoon, so it's better to come by 12, and it's also very difficult to get through customs, so come by 11, and to be completely calm, better even earlier...
Besides the magical 'afternoon,' which gives hope for today, there is also 'bukra, inshallah,' which translates as 'tomorrow, if God wills.' In accordance with these two time concepts, transport departs, documents are done, and all other important events happen. Probably, that is how it should be, if around you is the desert, if you live in clay houses without electricity (and why - there are kerosene lamps), running water (and why - when the Nile is nearby) and other blessings of civilization. If tomorrow will be the same as today, as it was a hundred years ago, then why hurry.
Sudan evokes a blissful mood of idleness and relaxation, days pass in doing nothing, but it does not stress at all.
In the country, they care not only about time, but also about money. They don't have it, and they don't need it. Outside the capital, a traveler can live and move around completely free - in any house, there is shelter and food for you.
By the way, about money. Sudan has a tricky monetary system - 1 dinar equals 10 pounds. But locals don't know the word dinar, naming prices in pounds - sometimes correctly, sometimes meaning dinars... You have to guess by context. And the owner of one hotel used the word 'guineas' in conversation, completely confusing me.
In Sudan, time is one hour less than Egyptian time. I made this discovery only in Khartoum, but it was precisely this that helped me catch the bus from Souk Shabi to Karima (300 km), which, oddly enough, left only half an hour late. That is, at five in the morning it was still only four, deep night, when I set off with a brisk step and a flashlight to the bus station, which was about a half-hour walk from the hotel. The night had greatly changed the outlines of the town, and I got lost. I got lost crossing a huge cemetery, and that added a certain piquancy to the situation. In the end, I still found the place where I had bought the ticket, but it was quiet as a grave. In horror, I started knocking on some doors; stunned sleepy Sudanese opened them, but I could neither explain nor understand anything. Arabic flew out of my head in despair, and I repeated only the words Souk Shabi, bus, and Karima like a wind-up toy.
To my luck, from around the corner, hugging a suitcase, appeared a portly Sudanese man who spoke English, and he clearly said that the bus would come here 'very soon.' Then a mullah began shouting from the minaret, and the Sudanese, saying he would go to pray, left the suitcase with me for safekeeping and disappeared. It was already 6:30, but there was neither a bus nor other passengers. I didn't like all this, and also the suitcase, and also the policeman who was pensively looking at me and wandering in circles. Then he also disappeared somewhere, but then suddenly returned, waving his arms, gesticulating, and using the word 'bus.' With a sixth sense, I understood that I was waiting for the bus in the wrong place - and indeed: in the distance, between houses, in the predawn twilight, the movement of a crowd of future passengers could be discerned.
About the Sharia dictatorship. Formally, it is so. But in reality, everything is not scary at all - women do not walk in veils, televisions are not banned, English is widespread, etc. Yes, there are cases of whipping and beating with sticks, and for particularly large theft, hands are cut off. But is that worse than many years of sitting in prisons?!
Sudan has a dry law; the import and consumption of alcohol are prohibited. But this is scary only for Russians - others do not really want it in the local heat. Of course, half a liter of vodka was sloshing in my Pepsi-Cola bottle - but it was an emergency reserve, just in case...
In the capital, local blacks who do not want to convert to Islam brew disgusting moonshine from dates and sell it under the counter at markets. The Russian ambassador Kuzmin told me about this and added that I could buy and then try this potion, but there could be problems with the Islamic police and with health. And if on the first point the embassy would get me off the hook, then with the second...
War has been the scourge of Sudan for 20 years. Besides enormous expenses, many killed and refugees, the internal war badly tarnishes its image. In addition, hostilities are conducted in an area rich in oil, which hinders its extraction. The rebel leader Garang (who is compared to Yeltsin because of his desire to divide the country) likes to present himself as a fighter against Islamization, for self-determination, etc. But at the core, as always, lies money. Rich Sudan, especially the oil-producing one, does not suit many people.
Some international Christian organization led by a certain Baroness Cox has "discovered" slave markets in South Sudan. A cry was raised - let's buy the unfortunate slaves! And children from different countries began to bring $50 each - such was the announced price of a slave. By the way, how many slaves do you need? - the pleased Sudanese rubbed their hands, we can provide even a million. Of course, a certain problem exists, but it has existed for hundreds of years - it still happens that well-armed tribes of Arab herders raid black farming villages and take away women and children. One might say, into slavery. But this happens quite rarely and not with the connivance of the state - it's just that the poor country has no means to control everything happening on its vast territory.
About six years ago, Bin Laden - terrorist No. 1 - lived in Sudan, building roads and bridges under a government contract (good ones, by the way) and, they say, made a good profit from it. After Egypt accused him of organizing an attempt on Mubarak's life, he was asked to leave the country. Several years ago, the Americans found his traces, foolishly bombing a harmless pharmaceutical plant. After September 11, everyone began eagerly looking for his traces in Sudan, and even our domestic television could not resist. Our embassy in Khartoum openly spits at the stupid and tendentious report of the TV people - for example, as the terrorist's house they showed the house... of a former Soviet citizen married to a Sudanese woman. Afghanistan and Bin Laden in Sudan do not particularly worry anyone; T-shirts with his portrait are not sold. The demonstration in his support shown in that same report was probably searched for a very long time. By the way, a special commission from various American military departments has already combed the entire country twice in search of terrorist compromising material and was forced to admit its absence. And yet, after September 11, threats from across the ocean began to be heard again.
Looks like this is already a madhouse...
At first glance, everything is much stricter than here. Paid registration is mandatory in all populated areas, and for any movement you need to obtain a permit, also paid. And the absence of these papers and stamps allegedly threatens "big troubles". I drove through several cities and towns and thousands of kilometers without any registration, caught the eye of hundreds of policemen, and only once was I asked about these mandatory papers. I presented a recommendation letter in Russian on the letterhead of the editorial office; they turned it in their hands and recognized it as a document.
In local hotels no bed linen is provided, not to mention soap, a towel, and other unnecessary things. In general, the periodic desire to acquire these items caused serious bewilderment in Sudan. According to my observations, they do not use toilet paper (a plastic vessel of water), toothbrush and paste (wooden twigs), do not wear socks and do not use bed linen, at least a duvet cover (or top sheet) and a towel. The way out was simple - when I rented some local hotel, there were, as a rule, two beds. I used the sheet from the second on top, and the pillowcase as a towel.
However, for what in Sudan is called hotels, there is a term "lokanda" - a bed under a canopy. That is, a sandy courtyard with water jugs, on which there is a bunch of beds plus "rooms" separated by thin partitions for those seeking privacy, facing the same courtyard.
In one of the hotels, my roommate turned out to be an Australian named Ian - a sporty-looking little man of 62, a Czech by nationality, who fled the country in '68 from the Russian tanks. Now he travels alone all over Africa - from South Africa to Egypt. He told me for a long time and interestingly about different countries and told me about some crazy Russian in a blue "Niva", who has been stuck here for two weeks, trying to negotiate with the ferry to transport his car to Egypt. He has only checks from a Djibouti bank, which are not accepted here and cannot be cashed. The next morning, this Russian - Volodya - showed up in our "room", apparently having heard that his compatriot had appeared.
The meeting of compatriots was warm. Volodya has been in Africa for three years already, has an office in Djibouti and sells tuned Nivas there. Having driven to Sudan through Ethiopia, he wants either to sell the car in Egypt or return it home by ferry, and fly away himself. He showed a bunch of photos, talked about Djibouti - a red-hot frying pan.
Islam is a very effective religion, claiming to participate in all aspects of life. But those who are Muslims not in words but in soul (and in Sudan almost all are like that) are very pleasant and nice people. In addition to boundless hospitality, almost complete absence of crime, and even in the capital (and capitals in Africa are usually quite dangerous) you can quite calmly wander at night. A very small number of beggars and panhandlers (and one of the commandments of the Koran is to help one's neighbor). By the way, there is no religious intolerance - there are many Christian churches in the country. When I, forgetting myself, ate a banana in front of a crowd during the height of the Ramadan holiday (you can't eat during the day!), no one threw stones at me.
Sudan is undoubtedly developing—both economically and politically. Privatization is underway, investors are becoming active. There are no McDonald's yet, but Coca-Cola is already in use. There are rumors that the Hilton in Khartoum is about to start selling alcoholic beer at seven dollars a glass. A significant democratization of society is also noticeable—many parties are permitted, former opponents of the regime have returned, including the deposed President Nimeiri. The entry of foreigners is also gradually being simplified, but Sudan will not soon become a tourist center. Although it was on the territory of this country that ancient Nubia was located, both the monuments themselves and their preservation leave much to be desired. The same pyramids in Egypt are much larger and more interesting. But the absence of tourists also has a positive side—perhaps that is why such wonderful, hospitable people have been preserved there, unspoiled by the traditional Arab baksheesh. Perhaps better than any I have ever met.
“They say that after Afghanistan, Sudan will be bombed,” the Egyptian border guard said gloatingly upon my return. I felt like hitting him.