Teacher Musings and How to Deal with the Heat

I realized I haven’t given a life update in some time and so it’s probably only fair to write about what I’ve been up to. A lot has happened! I moved from Bahri (Khartoum North) to Manchea*, a neighborhood in center of Khartoum. I moved because Rachel and I received a new university placement at Comboni College. We live much closer to Nile Street and “all the action” Khartoum has to offer, though we do miss the tightly-knitted neighborhood of Safia and our favorite neighbor Haj Safie at times.

Our  kitchen where our signature dish pasta and Mish** tomato sauce is made

Camboni College has a really interesting history. It was started as a primary school by missionaries but has since scaled up.  It is named after, Daniel Camboni,  the first Catholic Bishop of central Africa, who worked as an Italian missionary The school administration worked with the Ministry of Education and now offer 4 Bachelor’s programs in some sort of public/private partnership. They also offer "after-school" English, Spanish, and Italian short-term courses. There is a church at the Souq Arabi campus and all the secondary students wear lavender blouses and headscarfs for girls, with black bottoms. It is pretty amazing that their campus is located right around the corner from “the big mosque” in the center of Souq Al Arabi. Many students of all different backgrounds attend classes at Comboni. The classes I teach are short-term private classes which are small and grouped by level. They are much more manageable than my 80-100 group of rowdy 17 year olds at Bahri University. This has had a huge effect on my feelings about teaching and my spirits in general.

We haven’t been without problems, but overall the administration of the school is the most organized I’ve been involved with or potentially heard about here. Our coordinator is an incredibly bright young Sudanese woman who splits her time running the short term courses for Comboni and running an oncology clinic. She speaks fluent Italian and English and is taking Spanish courses. Honestly regardless of the frustrations we have, this woman runs a tight ship and is an inspiration.

The terrace across the street from Khartoum University where I taught my private class

I was also teaching private classes associated with Khartoum University that just wrapped up in April. If you’ve been following the politics there, I’d add it finished just in the nick of time although I’m saddened by the university’s closure. I really enjoyed this group of students. At the end of our class we even took a class trip to Jebel Aulia, about an hour south from Khartoum on the White Nile, to have a picnic of fried fish.

Students exploring the dam

Boat ride on a fishing boat by our picnic spot

We have decided to hold our own English club on Nile Street twice weekly. Nothing like having a hot cup of tea on the side of the road in 100°F heat. I can’t actually believe I got this far into discussing my life without mentioning that Summer is killing me!

A spot along Nile Street by the "India Bridge" to Bahri

Nile Street!

It’s hot hotter even hotter now. Always. There isn’t much else to say. The heat has made many of the volunteers, including myself, more anti-social. People don’t want to leave their homes, which is fair. Staying in seems to be one of the best ways to cope. I feel like I should have learned more tricks of the trade by now, but really, I only have a short list with a few of the lame ways we have coped with the heat.

1.)    Drinking water

2.)    Putting our sheets in the freezer

3.)    Standing in front of the fridge while it is open

4.)    Multiple showers daily

5.)    Drinking more water

6.)    Holding a water bottle like it’s a baby.

7.)    Naas Pizza delivery (ah-mazinggg BTW)

Like I said not a very impressive list, but hey, I think we’re doing alright, for ourselves. 

The glory that is Naas's "Ethiopian Pizza"

*Currently polling the English spelling of the neighborhood as I've seen it Manchea, Manshiya, and Manshia.

**My googleing in English failed to produce a good picture but for all intensive purposes Mish is like yogurt veggie dip

How to Ride the Bus in Khartoum

            Before coming to Khartoum I was warned about its bus system. Khartoum is a rather large city that spreads across The Nile. Walking in the heat long distances isn’t really an option. So we turn to transport to get around between neighborhoods. Amjads and taxis can be quite expensive. Rickshaws aren’t allowed to cross the bridges and aren’t allowed in certain crowded neighborhoods. And so I introduce you to the buses. With no set schedule or routes the bus system is something I’ve been cautiously attempting recently. And let me tell you I don't hate it. 

The advantages are that buses are incredibly cheap maybe just one pound for a ride. Taking two buses to Khartoum center and paying 2-4 pounds seems well worth the effort when a negotiated amjad could easily run you 30-40 pounds. Also buses run on all the major roads so finding them isn’t very difficult at all. Some guide books have attempted to detail the bus routes but I don’t think these are extremely helpful.

So how do you actually do it? How do you use the bus system when there are no written schedules, routes, and the stations are half parking lots with a few scattered signs in Arabic and half literally in the street? Well it’s not for those looking for the most efficient and timely experience, but this goes hand in hand with Sudanese culture. This being said I still think that Americans could learn a lot from the Sudanese bus system.

Disclaimer: This is from my very limited and personal experience riding a handful of the same routes a dozen or so times.

The easiest way to get a bus is at a bus station, but you can also “catch a bus” if you know gesture correctly and know where its going. Bus “stations” are very spread out sometimes even include the road and side streets. The only way to find out where the bus is that you want is to ask people. Because I don’t actually speak Arabic this normally includes gestures repeating the place, repeating places near the place, and sometimes having had a Sudanese friend write the place in Arabic on a note pad. If youre in the wrong section at “the station” someone will point you in the right direction. Often times someone will even say come with me and will ask around for you till you find the right bus. It common for people to even go far out of their way to help you. So that’s the big secret on how Sudanese navigate a bus system with many routes leaving and coming at different times…they talk to people. For someone with little Arabic this is the main challenge. Luckily, Sudanese are generally happy and patient to help.

If you’re on a major road you can catch a bus. You have to know the hand signal and listen for what the guys are shouting. Once you’re on a bus the bus attendant who stands in the doorway will snap at the front of the bus. It’s time to pay him when he snaps at you. Paying in low bills or coins is the best but I’ve seen people pay for one person with 10s 20s and even a fifty. Often times they collect all of the money before divvying out change. The process of paying by handing and passing money up and down the bus is something admittedly would never work in America, but it is refreshing that people are so trusting and honest so it works in Sudan.

There aren’t really set bus stops. To “request a stop” you snap or hiss. People snap at you to get your attention; its not rude. Even my students snap at me in class. A lot of time for men the bus won’t even come to a complete stop and the guy has to jump out.

Riding the bus has been a mix of good and frustrating experiences for me. To independently get between places without relying on a taxi feels good but sometimes it’s just not realistic. Sometimes buses just don’t go where they say or go over a different bridge than you thought. Sometimes there is no good way by bus to get somewhere. I’ve tried to adapt the Sudanese attitude when it comes to these otherwise problems…its really Ma Mushkila I know I’ll get where I need to go eventually.   I know that sometimes I have to let it go and hop in a rickshaw or amjad. I remind myself “hey youre in a foreign city” Its ok. But I do still laugh when I think about when I told a man I wanted to go to “Khartoum Itneen” (Khartoum 2) and he told me he didn’t speak English I just stared at him. “Khartoum Itneen,” I repeated.

*Note for concerned family I frequently take the bus with Rachel or a group of friends and we almost never ride after 8pm really because they stop running as frequently