Mon 11 Apr

Today is my out-all-day day. I leave the house at 7:10 and walk up to college. It takes about 35 minutes. I'm there in time for donuts but today, regrettably, there are none. I have a handful of reluctant 3rd years and though we achieve conversation(s) a theme never really emerges.

I have realised recently that as the classroom we use has a 50" plasma screen and PC, on uninspired days we could always read through song lyrics while listening to them being performed. Today I have in mind Pulp's "Common People". It's about a "hancosha" (posh/snobby woman) who wants to have the experience of being "mishgeen" (poor). The music gets quite loud – the singing gets lost in the mix, and there's a fair amount of new vocabulary. But they tune-in and I think, quite appreciate the idea.

It occurs to me that my time in Sudan is a little similar; not that I am snobby and stupid or that Sudan is manifestly poor. But I am ultimately a tourist in another culture and I know somehow, if I lie in bed at night and decide it is not for me I just have to pick up the phone. Unfortunately they don't quite get my point and the sentiment goes the wrong way.

I take two more classes interspersed with hot drinks, cold drinks and idle chats. I meet with Mango Juice Girl, cling-on Gassim and Einas – the girl from the family picnic last week with the Mona Lisa smile.

In the evening I also see my Na'faj class and make a reasonable job of exploring responsibility between parent and child and how there is also responsibility between adults and youth, wise and ignorant, even governments and their citizens. We talk about child abuse and ask when is it appropriate for the [outside] authorities to intervene in a domestic situation and we talk briefly about the Jews in World War II, Bosnia, Rwanda and acknowledge a sense of World guilt among those who could have intervened.

Of course the discussion culminates with Darfur. To which I get the inspired observation that we cannot live in the "global village" enjoying the benefits of technology and knowledge and expect to keep our (domestic) affairs to ourselves.

After class I meet Ghada for ice-cream – she's the radio producer who has given me work in the past. Her English is quite good and it is pleasant to relax with her – though she talks a bit too much (for my liking) about mixed marriages and [milk] chocolate coloured children.