Chris and I are idiots.
Read about Sudan. Its government is an unstable authoritarian regime who have, unpopularly, declared Shari’a law across the land. Every guidebook, every travel warning, every piece of word of mouth advice gives two warnings boldly and up front:
- Don’t offend Muslim sensibilities.
- Don’t photograph military installations.
It took less than 30 minutes and 50 kilometres after passing through the border for us to mess up.
The photo above is of a friend and fellow traveler to Khartoum. We bonded while waiting at a police checkpoint— one of the minivans in our convoy had broken down.
There isn’t much in the Sudanese plains. And the men in our group, using a pidgin of Amharic, Arabic and English, were bored of the typical travel conversations.
I don’t know who proposed the first exhibition of strength; but it was clear who proposed the last.
It started with a push-up contest. It ended with me taking off my shirt, and angering an officer. He shouted and tongue-lashed me in rapid Arabic. And like the archetypical caricature of an ignorant traveler, I spilled out repeated mispronounced apologies, when I should have shut up and sat quietly while looking remorseful.
Eventually, the officer moved on and my infraction was explained. Time passed. The minibus was repaired and we prepared to go on our way.
But, my defeated contest opponent (did I mention I won?) wanted a photo of us together. He wanted to remember the exhilarating moment forever. Faulkner couldn’t help but oblige.
That was mistake number two.
We barely got out of there with our belongings and money…
