A love for the desert

It has been a heavy past 2 weeks in northern North Darfur. Just before we set out, we received word that a major battle was being prepared just 60 km north of our destination and that we should be wary of wayward or awol troops who may decide to loot a few NGOs rather than report for duty in this crazy war.

We saw bombers pass over head and we saw Janjaweed troops pass noisily through town, but nothing worth noting happened to our delegation or to the town we visited. It was an uneventful trip in that sense. But so many adventures and stories to tell about living in the desert.

First the stars. I have been on extended camping trips in the past, but there was always some distant source of light to damper the view, but this place had no lights after 10pm and some days not at all. We had an amazing view of the milky way and spent hours lying in our cots outside counting shooting stars and satellites as they danced their way across the sky.

The days were very warm and the cement construction holds heat well into the night, so we decided to sleep outside on most nights. I was usually exhausted by 9 pm but Sudanese get their second wind about that time and conversations lasted well into the early hours of the morning.

The best constellation story I can relate now is the one about the origins of the Milky Way. When Ibrahim (Abraham for Bible readers) was asked to sacrifice his son, Allah (God) sent a sheep to him and told him to stop all human sacrifices. The Milky Way, I was told, was created to help the sheep find its way to Ibrahim. Many other stories ensued, but that was the one I retained best. Please remember that much of these late night stories are told in Arabic. It was too late to translate for the foreigner in their midst. So, I may have some details missing. In all, it was a great way to spend the night. Remember watching clouds as a child? Well, it is like that, except I cannot remember too many days when Darfur has been blessed with the cover of clouds.

The small town market began to stir around 10am each morning and many stayed closed well into the afternoon. That is usually a sign of trouble in El Fasher, but, when I inquired, I was told that no one had any money in the wake of Eid Ramadan. Ramadan ends with much merry making and gifts for family and children, especially the children. Lots of money is spent on new clothes and new make overs for the house. People are still struggling to make ends meet after such lavish outpouring of generosity in such a poor region. So merchants open with few expectations of selling any wares that day. Most just spend the day visiting fellow vendors and asking about their Eid and their expectations for the next big celebrations in December.

I visited with one old lady who sells wood in the market. She told me that it takes a day and a half on a donkey to collect the wood she sold there before me. Small bundles of dried twigs and branches. Each bundle of six or seven branches sold for less than 2 dollars. A decent living when you consider that in that town alone, residents spend over 40,000 dollars a day on firewood and charcoal. Poverty is relative. People pay for what they need and firewood is a premium product.

I am back in Fasher, and very tired, but I promise to continue with this and other stories over the weekend which, for me, begins tomorrow.

Thank you for your emails of concern. Maa salaama