Friday, July 08, 2005

Another Friday (our only day off) and I have succumbed to the temptation of coming into the office...shameful really, considering I already have a 60-hr work week but let's face it, there's not much to do in Darfur besides work.

Last Friday I stayed at home and PAINTED MY TOENAILS! A few of us girls decided that mindless activity might boost our spirits, so we ended up having a fantastic heart-to-heart gossip session. Speaking about work was banned, so instead we covered the following frivolous topics:

- Handsome men: few and far between. There is a very persistent rumour about one incredibly hot French man roaming through Darfur, but no one has ever seen him in person and we are all starting to believe it's a (rural) myth. The oldtimers assured us we would soon enough lower our standards and develop the infamous Darfur goggles, but for now the consensus was we are somewhat deprived of male attention over here.

- What to do on Fridays. Depending on which town in Darfur you are in, there are different choices, some as exciting as an evening out at the restaurant (keep in mind the few that exist usually have affectionate nicknames like The Flat Chicken and serve only one dish - yep, you've guessed it, chicken - on a rickety plastic stool crammed next to the side of a dusty road). After lots of hmmmming and haaahing we decided there wasn't really ANYTHING to do on Fridays other than have sex. Smug looks from the ones who were getting some, sighs and sad headshakes from the rest of us.

- Books. Unfortunately, everyone has already read everyone else's and there's nothing left to discuss. It's gotten to a point where new arrivals are bombarded with instant questions about their ability to contribute to our dusty little library. (Bringing a People or Hello magazine out to Darfur with you is the surest path to instant popularity if there ever was one. Unless you happen to be a handsome man. That might score you some points too.)

- DVDs. Same story. CDs. Same story.

- Foods we miss. Lots of muttered 'if I see just ONE more peanut salad's, but also some surprising realisations of 'you know, pasta is not so bad in a dessert actually'. Pastis, however, is still bad any way you look at it. Never, ever will we drink that vile stuff again. Ever. Well....at least until next Thursday night...


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3 Comments:

At , Blogger sleepless in sudan said...

Don't I wish....afraid there is no postal system here. You're lucky if your street has a name (or number). Which is not to say that anyone would agree on the spelling of it, but I'll save that little speech for another day.

 
At , Blogger sleepless in sudan said...

Hmmm .. perhaps posting my address isn't the best way to keep the Government of Sudan off my trail! A friend has suggested a brilliant solution: send them to a local (and desperately book-hungry) university! Here's the address:

Ahfad University for Women
P.O. Box 167
Omdurman
Sudan
Email: Ahfad@sudanet.net

The literarily-deprived population of Sudan thanks you ...

 
At , Blogger EchoVictorEcho said...

Good Lord! Everything on your site has me going "YES! EXACTLY" -- down to the whole being a 31-year old extremely single woman with Darfur goggles. Where was this site when I was deploying???

Anyway, I came back with a trunk of good books. If you still know anyone out here who needs anything, I even have a Cosmopolitan.

 

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