Heron on the Nile
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  Barah Adam Mon 24 Jan 2005  

Mon 24 Jan

It's now the 5th day of Eid - the last day of the holidays. Listening to the radio in the early morning I am reminded that I still haven't managed to meet up with my friend Adam in Dilling. I send him an SMS saying "This is the BBC in El Obied". We've exchanged these several times from different places - parodying the BBC's usual list of better known locations.

Jahanamia blossom
Jahanamia blossom
Adam tells his wife (who's finally living with him) that he's got to see his khawaja friend in El Obied and jumps on the bus. I'm flattered. (It takes three hours on a bumpy road and costs the equivalent to two office shirts.) More to the point I'm mighty relieved because it's far preferable than attending a wedding of a neighbour of an acquaintance whose company is negligent at best.

We meet at the main market in town. Food is the first priority so we grab a "showama" (a kind of donna kebab but far nicer) and chilled fruit juice and chat in a café for ages despite the intrusive music and continuous interruptions from beggar boys. After we have most certainly out-stayed our welcome we walk through to the local park and find a table and chairs in the shade; we while away a few pleasant hours eating fruit, drinking coffee and talking.

I try discussing the Peace Agreement and the promised changes but Adam is cautious. He doesn't know, or isn't saying. I think my questions will probably only be answered when former rebel leader John Garang finally shows his hand.

I give Adam some photos of our various adventures; they bring back happy memories. I also give him a copy of "Things Fall Apart" a classic piece of African literature; much sort after in these parts. It is good to see him again. I am touched that he has come and when it is time to go I escort him back to the long-distance bus-station and succeed in paying his return fare which I hope balances things a little. I suggest to him it is probably the last time we will see each other, but you never know - he may come up to Khartoum and I may return to Dilling someday. All the same, there is a feeling of finality and a touch of sadness.

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