I have heard it said that the sky is bigger in Africa. Lying on the deck of the ferry from Aswan (Egypt) to Wadi Halfa (Sudan), staring up at the night sky, I could believe this to be true. Up above me glittered a starry expanse that seemed endless. It hovered like a shimmering unfurled flag, dipping down into the soft darkness of the lake where it recreated itself in pools of reflected stars. Yes, the African sky certainly did seem endless from there.
And yet, I couldn’t help thinking that perhaps my perceived openness of the sky had something to do with my rather cramped position on earth! Never before have I known such a restriction of space as on that ferry. My knees pressed tightly against my chest and also pressed tightly against the bodies of many others who in turn were wedged hazardously against cargo piled up to the starry sky. Indeed, we were one intermingled mass of limbs, bodies, boxes, blankets, luggage, sleep, deck, star and boat packed into a tiny corner of lake – a position from which any snatch of open sky would appear tauntingly open, vast and free.
And that – the night time squish with a view of the stars – was perhaps the most peaceful part of the 28 hour ferry experience. I arrived at the dock to board the ferry the previous morning at 9 am and was quite unprepared for the crowds and the many passport checkpoints I had to shove my way through. Once inside the ferry, I climbed my way up to the dock where I met the open air with a short-lived joy – no sooner had I strategically demarcated my space with an outspread sleeping bag than it was pushed aside to make way for piles of cargo.
Anyway, I made it through the night and was well prepared for the morning stampede through the tiny ferry passages to get to the door and onto the dock. I could only laugh as I was pushed from behind and tugged from some sympathetic souls in front. I finally made it onto Sudanese soil with only one remaining shoe, a rather nasty knock on my forehead and a broken bag strap. But make it I did.
Unlike my ferry experience, passing through customs was swift and easy. The customs official was happy to meet a South African and had much to say about the 2010 World Cup. He stamped my bag with a customs sticker almost immediately. However, I was detained for a further half hour as he preached to me about Islam, how I would need to explain my lack of faith to Allah one day and how I should convert before it is too late. As he spoke, we were joined by an audience of border guards and customs officials who found the whole thing rather interesting, much to the annoyance of the other ferry passengers waiting to pass through customs!
So here I am in Wadi Halfa – a tiny town (if it can be called a town at all) founded by some Nubian families at the edge of the Sudanese desert, just below Lake Nasser. In contrast to my ferry experience, here I am surrounded by open space which glitters golden in the sun and stretches out beyond the horizon to meet a pale blue sky. There are very few people here at all, but the few there are have been incredibly friendly and helpful. And now I am off to try buy a sim card and then I will climb a rocky hill to catch the sunset spread out across the openness that is the African sky.
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