|
Thu, 10 Feb
 |
| Cleo and Amani on Tuti Island |
|
|
Today is a public holiday. In the Moslem calendar it is now 1426; the anniversary of prophet Mohamed's pilgrimage from Mecca to Medina.I still have that peaceful, relaxed, between-semesters feeling. Cleo has arranged an outing with Amani to Tuti Island, there's a chance of a swim and it's an opportunity to get to know Cleo, so I invite myself along. Tuti is a sizeable, fertile island lying at the confluence of the Niles. With no bridges (yet) it is mostly allotments and gardens with some modest and not particularly attractive housing. You could think of it as a green lung to Khartoum's dust blown, scorched streets. A kind of Hyde Park, Central Park, or Bois de Boulogne. We get a local bus down to the Omdurman ferry crossing and within minutes we're speeding across accompanied by a lady in purple (traditional honeymoon attire) and a man carrying bags and bags of pink and yellow candy-floss; I suspect more than just for his "personal consumption".
At first we walk alongside busy green fields, occasional livestock and trees; rickshaws and donkey caros that have met the ferry shoot past. There is a refreshing breeze. At a junction of dirt roads there is housing and rubbish - much like anywhere else in these parts. We take a rickshaw across to the other side of the island; looking for the beach. Amani made it clear from the outset that she isn't going to swim but Cleo and I are set on the idea. I take-off my long trousers revealing a pair of shorts and leave my t-shirt on. Cleo is wearing a dress over a t-shirt and trousers making sure there is no chance for flesh or female form to corrupt sensitive locals. At first the water is shallow and potentially unsatisfactory but the objective is to get wet rather than exercise so this does not really matter too much. Amani is supposedly minding our things but she wastes no time getting on with her early-afternoon prayers.
Cleo and I start splashing each other and not surprisingly become the centre of attention. I guess we might have been a little boisterous but it is innocent, fun and cooling. Across the river, Khartoum North looks no distance at all and given the water is initially quite shallow it looks as if one could walk across, but slightly further out it suddenly gets deeper with a tremendously strong current. It is as much as I can do to resist the force whilst keeping my feet on the bottom.
|
