Date of entry: 8 December 2009 (Day 56) Place of Entry: Wadi Halfa, Northern Border
Date of Exit: 1 February 2010 (Day 111) Place of Exit: Gallabat, South Eastern Border
Place: Kadugli, Nuba Mountains, South Kordofan Province, Central Sudan
Date: 11 January 2009 (Day 90)
For as long as I can recall I’ve been afflicted.
I call it ‘What’s Around the Next Corner’ Syndrome. Its causes are curiosity, intrigue, naivety and stubbornness. It presents as an inability to act sensibly when exploring a new area. This leads to symptoms such as refusal to adhere to common sense by following a clear path or turning back at the right time. Every new sight and corner must instantly be pursued for the promise of it bringing about something special. It is closely related to the condition of searching for a pot of gold at the source of a rainbow. The symptoms progress into a full-blown fever until I eventually snap out of it, stranded in the dark in an area that I shouldn’t be in; or miles from where I started.
I came down with a bad case of The Syndrome in the Nuba Mountains of Central Sudan. I stood in the pitch dark, frozen in terror and unable to move as the 3 ominous figures moved directly towards me.
It all began with a relaxing afternoon camping at the base of 1 of the 99 peaks in the Nuba Mountain range. I looked up and saw a magnificent baobab tree illuminated in the setting sun. I was immediately drawn out of my chair. It was an immense tree with an obese trunk and branches like tentacles flailing out into the sky. Where the tentacles met was a large hole, eerily similar to a mouth. It is a weird feeling to stand ‘in’ a tree. From this position, I looked up and saw a trail of baobabs leading up to the top of the peak. I was in trouble.
I followed the trail of baobabs higher and higher up the hill. My fascination was further amplified by the long neglected round stone structures built by whom, or for what purpose, I don’t know. Then the peak stood looming at me, only a couple of stones’ throws away. I had to know what was on the other side.
I reached the peak triumphantly to realise that the sun was very much set. I could barely see a few metres in front of me, but still I refused to succumb to the boredom of taking the same route down; and started down the opposite side. I fumbled my way until I reached an impassable outstretching rock with a worryingly steep slope. I would have to turn back and take the route I had come up. But this would not get me my pot of gold.
I started down the slope pushing with my palms behind me and using my feet like a blind man’s cane ahead of me. I was only a few metres from the bottom, chuffed that I hadn’t surrendered to the boring route, when my foot landed on – nothing. Before I knew it I was sliding down the rock at a furious rate, bumping ungracefully along. Well shook up and with a bruised backside I dusted myself off, happy to be on flat ground; and even happier to make out a path heading back in the direction of my camping spot. I even saw 3 car lights in the distance, so I couldn’t be too far from the road. Then the car lights started to bounce up and down, and I realised that they were 3 people walking directly towards me.
This brings us to the point where I stood frozen in terror, mouth agape, not daring to move an inch. I had come to know and love the people of Northern Sudan as amazingly friendly and well-meaning, but this was my first time to central Sudan. After being warned that it was unsafe to travel further than Kadugli, because of tensions between North and South Sudan, I felt this was not the best situation to test the friendliness of the people here. My heart pounded in my chest as, remarkably, the 3 figures walked right by me, chatting away. I realised that they were just children.
The path led me through a village of round, thatched huts; fires scattered amongst them. Fences surrounded each hut and within them eyes gleamed at me. They were the reflection from goats and other livestock’s’ eyes, but every now and again I heard people calling out to me. I didn’t linger, and hurried down to the road, eventually finding my camping spot.
I crawled up the ladder into my rooftop tent and fell fast asleep with the only cure for ‘What’s Around the Next Corner’ Syndrome I know of – A feeling of aliveness.
My question about the friendliness of the people in the area was answered the next day, when a teacher visited us and told me that I had scared them by walking through their village last night.
