Phil was kind enough to reserve a minibus so a group of us could go experience the weekly Sufi dancing ritual on the late afternoon and early evening of March 23 in Omdurman, just across the Nile from Khartoum. We stopped by the teachers’ apartments and picked up Brad, Rene, Colin, and Colin’s mother who had just arrived that morning from the States. Across the street from the teachers’ apartments is a building under construction where some poor people have staked out a home of their own until the construction is complete.

We met the minibus at the Khartoum American School.

The minibus brought our group to Omdurman where we spotted the two buildings enclosing tombs of famous Sufi teachers. A Muslim cemetery surrounded the two buildings.

I went inside the tombs, after removing my shoes, to check them out. The caskets looked large and specially made clothes covered the caskets. People inside touched the tomb in prayer and/or mumbled prayers while sitting or walking around the tomb.

Before the Sufi dancing got going, we experienced many preliminaries. A guy preached about the name of Mohammed, a man was selling whips, and two others played drums along with lovely chanting. Sometimes, people would approach the drummers and dance a bit with them. Some guys sat on top of the tomb structures. Many of the Sufi dancers dress in green and red robes. A procession approached with green and red flags at one point entering the tomb complex, then departing. Gradually, a large circle of participants forms around a central pole where they hang green and red flags.

As the drumming and chanting of Islamic prayers gets more intense, the inner circle of mostly men start bobbing and bowing. Newcomers greet each other with handshakes or embraces, which become blessings. One elder Sufi, adorned in beads, embraces me, perhaps recognizing a kindred spirit from afar. Some enter the circle to shuffle forward and back in a counterclockwise direction. Some carry traditional sticks, whips, or other fetishes, which are used only symbolically in the dancing. The combination of chanting, drumming, and bowing becomes meditative, even engendering trance states. Occasional passionate dancers start twirling in the dervish fashion.

We got very thirsty went to buy juice and soft drinks after the Sufi dancing.

When Phil arrived at the mosque near the bus station to pick me up, he took one look at me, heard me say I was sick, and we went directly to a medical clinic near his home.

Thanks to Phil for basically saving my life! They looked me over and said they wanted to keep me overnight for observation. I was a bit scared, but Phil was reassuring. The doctor kept returning to whether I had been drinking. Phil says that when he took my blood pressure, he did it on both arms because he wanted to check for tracks on my arms. He probably thought I was an alcoholic or other kind of drug addict, and he prescribed a shot of B vitamins. Was I scared to be admitted to a hospital in Khartoum? Hell, yes! But honestly, the hospital was clean and they used sterile needles. Phil stayed with me until after they did a blood draw and got me situated in my bed. They did have trouble poking me for a shunt for the IV, probably because I was so dehydrated. Shortly thereafter, they started a dextrose IV, which helped immensely by rehydrating me. By late morning on March 15, we received the test results from my stool sample which indicated I had gastroenteritis. This was actually good news! I now knew that I needed to take a round of Cipro antibiotics. So, when Phil came back to the hospital, we checked me out. I paid nearly US$500 for the hospital stay. We went to Phil’s place, which to me was heavenly. I didn’t have to worry about contaminated food or water. He even has airconditioning and safe ice cubes!Here’s a picture from outside Phil’s apartment, a typical city scene, and some of the many water jugs that provide free water to anyone stopping by around Khartoum.

Khartoum boasts some modern buildings along with poverty-striken urban sprawl, mostly from the tens or hundreds of thousands of refugees from the wars in the south and now from the Darfur conflict. Sudan runs primarily under Sharia law, although apparently part of the agreement forged out of peace with the south involves separate justice systems for those who are not under Sharia law. The area by the banks of the Blue Nile, the White Nile, and their confluence in Khartoum, have rich soil and green plants.

Here is a fancy new egg-shaped hotel, the famous confluence of the Blue Nile from Ethiopia with the White Nile coming from southern Sudan, and the Sudan Parliament building on the Omdurman banks of the Nile.

An old mosque in Khartoum and some great views from the Palace Hotel.

Interesting paintings on a Coptic church, including one of St. George slaying the dragon (also very popular in Ethiopia), plus bridges on the Nile.

I’ve been relaxing and recovering at Phil’s place in Khartoum until now, March 23. I now feel like a human being again. On March 26, I’m planning to head north in Sudan along the Nile, then to Egypt.