Heron on the Nile
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  Displaced People Beauty Beyond The Veil  

After class I resist all offers and invites to breakfast or shai and jump on the first minibus heading towards town. It is already 0950 and I want to collect my passport from the British Embassy which this week is only open between 10 and 11. Besides I already have a breakfast date at the Ethnographic museum. I haven't seen Manaahill since things went sour in Omdurman souq a week or so ago. She's still scowling more than smiling. Women eh, what can you do?

Still, she has a couple of Archaeology students on attachment from the University of Shendi, and one of them, Magdulina from Gezira state, is quite fun. Her English is good and her manner a little cheeky; she's a cutie and she knows it.

Manaahill elbows me – why are you looking at this girl all the time? Ouch! Welcome to the real world. I explain I am trying to imagine her beauty beyond the veil.

"But that's not allowed in our culture," she exclaims.

"But I'm not of your culture," I pointlessly protest, cementing the hole I have already dug myself into.

Magdulina is off to Gezeira state for a week or so – I ask questions like is it pretty? Can I visit in a day-trip or would I need to stay overnight? She gives me her brother's mobile number - don't worry it's perfectly normal he will understand, it will not be a problem. Now who's confused? I'm not sure about calling him up to ask if she can come out to play. In the event she clarifies that she cannot take me around or show me the sights – her father is very strict and would not allow it – in our culture it would be very shameful. So that's that then, more's the pity.

Breakfast is good – ful with a sort of dry hard cheese (parmesan?) rather than the usual wet greek-style feta cheese. But the highlight is finishing off with "zabaadi" (yoghurt) and "taheena" (sweet sesame halva).

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