The following are (disjointed) extracts from my diary:
Sat 27 W-Day minus 13
I slept very badly, tossing around all night, even getting up at 0300 for a spell. I kept dwelling on Wafaa's problems and on our impending wedding, only natural in the extraordinary circumstances. By the time I reached work I must have been tired, I got my class time wrong (the class I have taught for 2 months!) and had to be reminded I was 10 minutes late!
Oh what joy! Just one brief call and my spirits soared with the eagles! I will meet her at 2000, whether for a short or long assignation is not important, we shall be together for the first time in a week!
I picked her up then we delivered another aunt to Omdurman before returning to Khartoum where she had to comfort her Mum. Together for a total of 3 hours, we didn't speak much, she was tired out and the traffic was manic, taking all my concentration. But we were so happy just to be sat next to each other. A brief farewell kiss in the alley by her home sealed the night for us both.
Mon 29 W-Day minus 11
There are days when, in response to something going wrong, I shrug and say, “That's Africa!” Then there are days when “Bloody Africa!” is more appropriate. Today was that kind of day.
I staggered from bed at 0730, the latest of any working day. My body and mind have certainly been making the most of our enforced separation and both seem to be strongly hinting they should shut down for a long rest. At work my morning classes went well and I was within 15 minutes of taking my lunchbreak when the Wee Man called:
“Ah, Mr David, could you spare a moment?”
In his emporium he cordially enquired after our wedding preparations, the state of my courses, what were my leave dates, all of which he already knew, then came out, almost as an afterthought, with a question about my apartment:
“You intend that you and your wife will continue living there?”
“Yes.” No amplification was necessary.
“Have you spent money on it?”
“Yes.”
“Would you be prepared to move out?”
“No.” I determined to make him work for what he wanted.
“Only we have 2 teachers arriving in 3 days time, each with their families, and it would help if one of them could have your apartment as you have 3 bedrooms.” In 3 days time!; and he was just getting round to sorting out accomodation! Such brilliant forethought! Having been promised that my flat was sacrosanct, I had spent money decorating and having bedroom furniture built to fit. To move would cost quite a bit and there was obviously some negotiating required if I wasn't to be screwed. I had to think things out clearly.
Being a helpful guy despite my allergy to complete idiots, I agreed to speak to my neighbour about the possibility of taking his flat (being single he was to be evicted and put into another place, sharing with 2 others) and departed for shopping and lunch. Halfway along the road my phone rang:
“David, don't get upset, but would you consider changing the date of our wedding?” Had I not been at the wheel and the lights just turned green, I would have gone ballistic! Fortunately, by the time I had parked the car my blood pressure had re-entered Earth's atmosphere and I called her back for a fuller story:
“I have thought about it all and, as you keep telling me, this is our wedding, our reception, our future; I don't need traditional customs to ruin our wedding celebrations! I have waited all my life for this moment and I will not have it taken away from me! If my uncles and others in my family want to remain with tradition they can just stay at home! But the hall I want is only available on the 9th or the 11th – which shall we choose?” That is certainly a headstrong fiancée I have chosen!
We considered both options briefly but money counted for her:
“If changing the honeymoon flight from the 11th to the 12th will cost so much, we shall have the party on the 9th!”
“You mean we will marry a day early?” I was a little slow on the uptake:
“Yes!” Hamdulillah!!!!! All these months of prevaricating and changing the date, delaying things to try to suit everyone, and here we are bringing it forward by 24 hours. To say I was a happy bunny would be a gross understatement!
I checked out the next door flat and it looks fine. Now I just need to do some sweet talking and for the management to make a decision and compensate me; it could be a long wait.
Spoke to Wafaa before bed and her confirmation of the changed date had me laughing and giggling like a kid. This so relieved her, after seeing me suffering so much from stress in recent weeks, and her giggles joined mine over the ether. We talked of future plans and the excitement overtook us. Oh Allah, we are so in love! I haven't been this happy in years, certainly not since before my brain explosion!
Tue 30 W-Day minus 9
The missing W-Day countdown number is caused by the changed wedding day. What neither of us had realised is that the new wedding day is special to mefor another reason; 9 is my number! Born on the ninth, my lucky number has always been 9, was engaged to Wife 1 on the 9th (who was also born on that date), our wedding was scheduled for the ninth (but my ship's programme was changed), I confessed to being a Muslim and was told our marriage was over on the 9th. This must be Allah's will!
Left at 1300 direct for Omdurman to pick up Wafaa and go wedding dress hunting. It was wonderful to see her, even though she was fresh from the smoke and smelling like an old campfire. She is completely covered up these days (bar her face) and looks every part the subservient Sudanese bint. I hate what she appears to be, even though I know looks can be deceptive, but I long for our wedding day when she will cast off that badge of the slave forever.
Across the river to Bahri we journeyed, 3 ladies crammed in the back of my diminutive Daihatsu and Wafaa sitting pretty alongside her man. At the dress shop I was excluded from their company; not wanted on voyage. For 90 minutes I watched the world rush by then put the windows up and the a/c on; even I can have too much of the heat sometimes. Finally the gaggle of girls came giggling from the shop:
“I take it you have chosen a dress?” I enquired in mock seriousness.
“Oh yes, it is a nice one.”
“Only nice! For you it should be fabulous!” Cue gales of laughter from all:
“Yes darling, I think you will be very impressed,” she sighed contentedly.
I rushed back to work and was hard at it till 2100; it was a tired old Hector that flopped into my armchair with a bowl of chilli, a glass of mango juice and Wishbone Ash on the CD player.
We managed one last conversation before sleep took us both, 20 mins of sweet nothings. I have my first ever mobile phone (I loathe the infernal things!), a gift from the school on my arrival in Feb, and it took me over 3 months to use up the free credit that came with it – about US$2 worth. During the last couple of weeks I have been using that amount daily – and my fiancée is using even more. I'll be glad once we are together and I can put the dammned moneygobbler away again!
Wed July 1 W-Day minus 8
Following the afternoon session I drove over to Omdurman, arriving at 1845, a speed that attracted a disapproving look from my intended. We sat and chatted, cuddled and briefly brushed lips with guilty grins, before joining the madness to drive to her seamstress at Bahri. The traffic in Omdurman is a little slower than in KRT but the narrow, poor-quality, potholed roads,the preponderance of donkey-carts, buses and taxis (the drivers of which seem perpetually high on high-quality hashish) and the total ignorance of the pedestrian population when it comes to traffic, make driving here a lot more intimidating. Poor Wafaa, who has a phobia about traffic at the best of times, becomes a jittery wreck on the shortest journey in Omdurman. This is also taking a bite out of my paycheck, with 30 pounds worth of fuel going into the car over 24 hours.
I was left in the car while the girls (family and friends aren't shy when there is the possibility of a car seat going spare) ventured into the labyrinthine depths of the “Tailors' Souk”, Wafaa with a parting admonition to:
“Keep the windows closed and the a/c on, David, this dusty air is bad for your lungs!” Oh, she does fuss over me!
Chores finished, the two of us enjoyed a drive to KRT and her home where, with unfortunate timing, her family was being evicted just days before the wedding, the house being needed for a higher-paying tenant. Organising the move to a nearby property is the last thing Wafaa needs right now but her Mum isn't capable and her Brother is........, well....., he's a Sudanese male, isn't he?
Thu 2 W-Day minus 7
Out of bed at 0615 this morning – getting better! Was at my desk by 0815, finalising this morning's exam paper. Caught the Wee Man early and discussed teacher shortages. Also elicited that I will be moving apartments this weekend. We agreed the painter will do his thing tomorrow, the bedroom furniture will be dismantled and reassembled Saturday orning, the boys will shift my gear in the afternoon then clean the roof for me to use as my private garden. It all seems a bit too reliant on efficient organisation to me; this is Africa.
Called Wafaa to put her in the picture regarding the flat. I worry that so much is resting on her shoulders. Nobody around will help with the many arrangements and the sister on whom she was depending on to share the load is stuck in Dubai with visa problems (having lived there illegally for 3 years she doesn't qualify for an exit/re-entry visa!). In addition to her own preparations Wafaa has to take care of one final detail that has been worrying me for more than 6 weeks; we still do not know exactly what paperwork we require to be married, how long the legal permission will take nor how certain such approval will be forthcoming. It sounds incredible to a Westerner, that such basic info is not readily available, but we have received differing stories from lawyers, court officials, even newlyweds themselves. No matter how I try to push for this to be sorted, everone tells me to relax, that it will all be ok. I try to remain optimistic, regurgitating insh'a'allah! at every potential cockup.
Fri 3 W-Day minus 6
Up at 0630 then sat relaxing. The wind was building up so didn't fancy driving, bo point rushing about cleaning if I am to vacate the flat tomorrow. Besides, my left foot is bad with plenty of pain in the toes. Don't want to slide down the slope of progressive pain to the agony level. It's ironic that Wafaa starts a regime of massages today, in order to look extraordinarily beautiful for the wedding, and I could really do with a massage right now to keep the pain at bay!
I called her at 1830 with the good news that the painter had succeeded in finishing early, but her voice told me trouble was at hand. She had been on the phone all afternoon and deliberately hiding the fact from me. A lawyer had booked an appointment at court for Sunday but that:
“We need to get letters from the British Embassy and the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. They need to investigate you. We cannot travel abroad until everything is correct. We need the papers to get married!” She was distraught, more by my having warned for so long about this than by the actual information. I couldn't remonstrate with her, she has/had total faith in the Sudanese way of getting things done, somehow, someday. She had never come up against the might of bureaucracy before. Looks like the wedding may be indefinitely postponed.
Dave
