Heron on the Nile
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  Seat al shai Wrong Suburb Fri 3 Dec 2004  

Fri 3 Dec

On Friday lunchtime (our weekend) I went to meet a lady from the British Council. I had originally intended to take Jenny for a Pepsi in the British Council garden but it seemed we could not find a convenient time. She suggested I came over to her house at the weekend. After wandering up and down street 43 not recognising any of the landmarks she had given me I gave her a call and discovered I was in the wrong suburb.

She had arrived in Sudan about the same time as me but is expecting to stay for two or three years. All her worldly goods have only just arrived so she was in a state of unpacking and making cushion covers. Already it was apparent that she had lived in several exotic countries. As we talked she told me of her time in Irian Jaya (West Papua), Saudi Arabia and most recently in Syria.

After a while we adjourned to a new coffee shop that had just opened in her neighbourhood. We were in expatriate-land and the coffee "shop" was in fact a khawaja bungalow with a very pleasant leafy garden. There were spaciously arranged chairs and tables and quite a few khawajas and their children. I could hear English and French mostly, and no Arabic. Indoors the main living room and hallway had been given over to an exhibition of contemporary art. It was quite interesting but not much to do with Sudan – the fruits I assumed of some bored partner.

At the counter there was a "proper" Italian coffee machine – capable of cappuccinos; the coffee menu had the names you would see at Starbucks. I ordered an Americano without milk. Also on offer were assortment of ice-creams, homemade fruit pies, croissants and cake. It was another world, and quite refreshing. It occurred to me this would be a great place to while away an afternoon with the weekend papers – in the event of any becoming available.

We enjoyed a lazy hour or so comparing experiences of different cultures and in particular how long it takes to adjust and become accepted. Jenny reckoned that in places like Sudan things only ever get going when they are arranged on a personal basis and it takes at least six months to become accepted and trusted. I must admit I was beginning to wonder when I might see progress on a number of administrative issues. She wanted to meet some [volunteer] English teachers and build-up some pool of resource. She is the only qualified examiner (in Sudan) for some International English certificate and could do with sharing the workload; she also gets calls from NGOs looking for private English lessons at least once a week. I was pleased to make a connection on behalf of my colleagues and somewhat surprised that such a relationship did not already exist.

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