Just peek over the gate a few seconds and are already all there. The English teacher with his lame tunic and immaculate, the incumbent president in the massive forms of ancient candace, a bunch of kids who, chuckling accomplice, is no longer in the skin. Sometimes dark as pitch, other soft amber, because Mulwad the Maghreb and Africa, nomadic black sit at the same desk every day. Patiently learn to live together and recognize that push boundaries beyond the tribal scarification.
These are the territories of Kababish or Fur, or of Bisharin Hadendoa. Or so he hopes the people of this small village buried in the white sands of the desert Bayuda and silt of the Nile, more than ever determined to give a peaceful future for their children.
"Living together in harmony is not just a political or religious affiliation - recognize the teachers - but a practical necessity. Far from the corridors of power, the Sudan is a vast expanse of farming villages and communities devoted to sheep, forced to deal daily with the threat of desertification and water scarcity. For us the arrival of the other, the stranger, has always been a blessing, a window on the world wide open for food that we take our hope. "
Since last October, the horizon was suddenly on top of the tourism in the region of the Nile has dedicated a special day, hoping that the pilot wave wakes national pride. But that's the last resort to which the government is holding on to avoid the inevitable: the division of the southern part of the country, to decide on independence in a referendum scheduled for January 11.
almost a blasphemy to the ears of President Omar Hasan Ahmad al-Bashir, yet wandering between the villages and archaeological sites of Nubia is easy to see how the history of Sudan is no more than a continuous turnover of its own people. More than 500 different ethnic groups, forced the British in the immense boundaries enacted in 1956, when Finally, the Union Jack was lowered.
Mulwad, just as Taminal, Umegal or any other small cluster you meet along the Nile, apparently just like the neighbors. A dusty road and a bit 'wider in the middle, some thorny acacia writhing under the anger of the Sun, a maze of walls so blinded by white.
not recognize at first glance an urban scheme, an idea of \u200b\u200border, but the error lies here: Nubia desperately seeks the shade, hiding the His grace of the women behind the veils that float over the fences dividing colorful, or sit in a group among the corridors of their homes, waiting for a puff of hot air dried henna just drawn.
Their elegant thawb unsheathe saffron yellow, cobalt blue or purple, the color of their bodies and give inspiration to their hands, when temperatures dipped into the slip sinuously on the walls of the home: fine art of a self-taught genius, through which they can make those wonderful flowers blossom on lime in the desert seems so stingy, but their clothes are rather extravagant. The imagination to power. Improvisation that supplants ratiocination computer. And 'the pride of diversity claimed by a peace sign.
Other times, however, are the fetishes on the entrance pillars to indicate that Africa animist, and a little 'wild, is still there, although invariably the cry of the muezzin vigilant sovereign. On top of a column the jaws of a crocodile waiting for careless prey. The horns of an antelope are ready to get on. Evil spirits are certainly not lacking in this land where the remains of ancient necropolis emerge suddenly behind the house, or passages of the pyramids lie scattered everywhere in the bowels of hell.
for what will be on the table there is always a bowl of ful - the popular stew of beans with olive oil, cumin and chili - or a steaming cup of karkadé: the host, whatever origin it may be, will always be welcome, provided they know how to approach abandoning the aggressive gestures, such as undressing the arrogance of wealth. It 'impossible to trade the dignity that the people of Sudan has not forgotten and still knows how to apply the right amount of surprise and disapproval.
Outside Khartoum, the capital, which lies at the confluence between the White Nile and Blue Nile, and even the fears of the British Governor Gordon Pasha hallucinations are now only due to the harsh temperatures. Even if they were to resurface on television between the lines of Charlton Heston, the unfortunate hero who dedicated one of his English most memorable performances in the film Khartoum.
No Mahdi ready to tear the troops of His Majesty, as happened in the dramatic morning of January 26, 1885, dawn of that rebel Sudan who knew how to inflict the first defeat in a landmark military Europe. No dall'appetito ravenous lion, so feared by our Joseph Ferlini, the Bolognese doctor in search of Pharaonic treasures that brought him more curses than riches, having destroyed entire pyramids blows of a pickaxe.
At most, only clouds of butterflies that adorn the walls carelessly lit nights in tents, some camel spider fond of moths and scorpions gold-hungry dew minor setbacks of the period of flooding of the Nile when the air gets fired and the thermometer seems likely to spill over 60 degrees.
Despite the concerns of the government are pushing to build roads and bridges throughout Nubia, the crossing by camel, like a 4x4 expedition off the track, there is still the most common way to reach the forgotten treasures of the Pharaohs Blacks. Even the camp under the stars may provide comfort away from the aspirations of Khartoum, but the spirit remained the same as those of the many explorers who have come here in the footsteps of the mysterious kingdom of Kush.
Fortunately, the only weapons that Sudan is now known to oppose the poor clothes of cotton and spears claim that withered the pride of the House Khalifa Khartoum, the former home of the caliph who succeeded to the hero of independence by the British.
Guns rusty ogle the pilgrims visiting the tomb of the Mahdi, shiny silver dome in the heart of the capital, gives the impression of being able to explode only one last shot. The rickety stalls of the souk of Omdurman, a city on the west bank of the Nile opposite the capital, exposing only a few dagger sikkin, whose long knife - as is the custom among the nomadic Bisharin - moves easily aligned with the forearm. Next to them lie at the most powerful amulets wizards of the rain or kujur hypnotic incense-gum arabic.
'm pretty smiles ivory to shine in the dark faces of Nubia today. The thin hands who rise to the sky appear simple gestures of greeting, indicate the unusual stranger, invite you to have the waves of a felucca to direct cataracts of the Nile. Just hatred against white settlers. Disappearance for fear the incursions of the Egyptians, the Assyrians or the Ottomans.
Yet the cries of Darfur continues to deafen the ears of those who no longer know listen. The present military uniforms to the countless checkpoints scare most of the unstoppable advance of China, to the sound of roads, stadiums as a gift and light poles stuck into the void, has already put its hands on the newly discovered rich oil fields in the country. Not to mention the cool gold mines came to light rail along the Egypt-bound or iron stores east of Meroe, appetizers that whet many other giants of the global market.
"Our true wealth is placed in our history - ruling a senior kafir, ready to surprise the intruders who think they have arrived abandoned at an archaeological site - and here it is necessary to redesign the role of Sudan in Africa and the world. Heirs and builders feel the same jaw-dropping wonders that both citizens of the north, is the south, is perhaps the best way to erase the bitterness of the past. To tread a path of peace that is also a way forward for the country's most marginal communities. "
seems to hear again the words of the glorious pharaoh Taharqa, which El-Kurru inaugurated a royal necropolis where the bricks had to seal the power of the future. Or the proclamations of the kings of Meroe, the heirs of those proud warriors desert, around 750 BC, from here until they went up the Nile delta, to claim dominion over all the territories once belonged to the Egyptian.
Pharaohs Pharaohs whites against blacks. Eternal struggle for the light of civilization against the darkness of isolation: it is all written in the parable of Nubian architecture, which summarizes centuries of human vices and virtues. The crude stands Nuri that slowly transformed the underground tombs in the vertical organization of power at Meroe, before thinning again, unable to emulate crumble too big a step.
In supporting the audacity of the XXV dynasty who surprised the antiquity with huge pens for domesticated elephants, or gold outfits so massive as to forget even the black color of their skin. The Egyptians called them Nubians, in fact, "golden men" who believed gods on earth, but it turns out pretty damn deadly when the story forced them back to the margins of civilization, and let them swallow black Africa for centuries.
A Musawwarat, the expert hand that had been able to portray the feathers of Horus and carved ram's fleece is made uncertain, rough, almost trivial. The corridors bends dangerously. Not even the massive Jebel Barkal sacred seems all'impietosa escaped the grip of time: the proud profile of King Cobra, slotting in the pinnacle overlooking the enormous block of red sandstone, is consumed every day in the wear of the winds. What once was the formal sanctuary of the god Amun, is now offering as a heap of ruins, only threatened the flight of vultures. Going back to its summit does not shrines can be seen most magnificent and fearsome troops, but the immutable Nile meandering between palm humble hell of basaltic rocks.
The capital of the United Black has lost ground. Napata has stumbled at Meroe, a little 'further south, closer to the anguish that limes in the old maps feared the unknown of the beyond. It matters little if there is concentrated the largest gathering of the world famous pyramids. Forty, maybe more. Generation after generation, the eye also ended up losing the sharp geometry, exchanging a holy picture on the columns at the entrance to Jebel Barkal an obscure figure feline. She was the goddess Hathor.
creative jolts us were still in the fifth century AD, when the Coptic managed to create some impressive churches in the vicinity of Old Dongola. Also disappear in the shadow of Islamic qubba. For Sudan will be the beginning of the long sleep, although capitals crossed by arched cross remained buried only half, as the tips of the pyramids had a last burst of pride, pushing their stranglehold over the top of the sand.
And on the ground, nothing more than shards of clay, ready to resurface, however, stubbornly here and there. Almost waiting to be put back together with old patience, to reveal the true face of a country relegated to the confluence of two worlds. Today more than yesterday.
THE WHEEL OF TIME
The word dervish still puts chills in the Sudan. Although it literally means nothing more than "poor" or "beggar", and Islam in general to appoint members mystical currents in Khartoum is still very much alive the memory of their slaughter at the hands of the British commander Horatio Herbert Kitchener, and of a recruit is not yet known, a certain Winston Churchill. Every Friday evening when the sun begins to set, their successors are found near the qubba (tomb) of a major Muslim preacher who died in 1936, Sheikh Hamad el Nil, and the show so early. They come in dozens, perhaps hundreds, praising Allah, jumping right and left, turning on themselves, beating the rhythm with your hands, feet, plates or sticks. The large white robes become the wheels of time, ecstasy general invitation to join with the faithful of the past and feel the divine presence through spasms of the body. The drums surrounded him. Long trumpets squeal. Although not a performance designed for the public, anyone can access and participate in collective ecstasy. At least until sundown, when the circles of dancers line up to Mecca and began to pray according to traditional methods. But it is in the frenzy of rotations which radiates all the charm of the elegantly decorated robes, turned to the sky rhythm sticks, necklaces and hair tinkling in the wind. A snapshot that inevitably recalls the massive assault against British troops on 2 September 1898, can destroy in a few seconds to almost 10 thousand warriors remained defend what remained of the great freedom of Khartoum Mahdi.
archaeological mystery
The Temple of the Lion of Naga is a real headache for archaeologists. Even the name of the place, for anyone familiar with the oriental culture, calls the sacred snake of Indian mythology, but the similarities with the great Asian country are not limited to this. The portraits of the lion god Apedemak fact have four arms and three different perspectives, highlighting a far stylistic complexity of classical or Egyptian Africans. The same god, moreover, reappears on a pylon outside in the form of a serpent with a lion's head, keeping a distance from any other contemporary engraving. But that's not all appear in his company and also the Greek Zeus Serapis, both bearded, with hair and a silhouette-ray clearly evokes Helios. Three different ancient cultures seem, therefore, gathered here and live together harmoniously. Despite the tireless team of German studies, testimonials attesting to their direct contact on site continue to fail, as no other track like it was even more returns in other parts of Sudan. It should also be noted that, despite the presence of Isis and Osiris, the god lion never belonged to the Egyptian pantheon, so much to show in bas-relief of a ferocity unusual for Naga sacred representations (sometimes known as a lion devouring the head of slaves), as well as unsettling is the size of the Queen Amanitore, almost as big as the wife Natakamani. What happened in Naga, then? Maybe this town hides a history of transfers and that contamination may have also influenced ways of thinking more underground? Was there really a society dominated by women candace? Each response is still pending.
HOUSING TO BE SAVED
do not count a same. Nubian houses constantly surprised by the variety and beauty of their decorations, and when displayed on the portals polychrome (on top of which often soar fetishes of protection), that the internal and external walls of houses. From the day the paint was the terminus in the remote villages north of Khartoum, the artistic instinct of the people has totally abandoned the fantasy. Geometric or floral designs, abstract figures or hunting scenes, parallel worlds open up on the white lime of the walls, where the dipped fingers of young artists take on their surface to flow without any idea predetermined. Relying simply the taste of the time or extent of the available space. An art of pure class extraction, however, that risks of extinction from one generation to another, often because of poverty that grips most isolated families. That is why the Italian Tourism Company, in accordance with the advice of local elders and the tour operator's Travels Maurice Levi, has decided to support these initiatives by providing artistic colors best suited to families. The agreement also provides that the Italian travelers can also enjoy tea house or break into homes sponsored, coming into direct contact with the habits and customs of the premises. Or who knows, contributing with his own artistic taste to enhance a remote corner of the distant Nubia.
RESTAURANTS
THE VILLAGE ASSAH
(00249/155.212.121 Tel - 183481919, fax 00249/183.481.912. Khartoum1 behind the Canadian Embassy)
near Khartoum, the complex serves as both a 4-star hotel with nice ambience in the Middle East (20 rooms) and a restaurant, standing out in particular for its Lebanese specialties. Among his best dishes stand out the spicy grilled meats, the mezzeh (hors d'oeuvres flour vegetables) and rice pudding.
Al Waha
(Tel 0183/499.288, Khartoum 2)
Khartoum2 is located in the district and is the place to taste the famous sheep in the Sudan ", better known as Kharouf. An animal in the middle between a goat and a sheep in fact, long-tailed and plump, though its meat is also very thin and highly digestible. It is often served with a very spicy sauce. Prices from 8 to 12 euro range.
CHAI HOUSE
literally "tea houses", are in fact the equivalent of our motorway services. Convenient stations spaced out on the roads crossing the desert, where you can safely eat their meals prepackaged or taste some local specialties. Generally, a lentil soup, bean or beans, along with blocks of chicken or lamb, onion ends, cumin and lemon juice.
HOTELS
GRAND HOLIDAY VILLA
(PO Box 316, Nile Avenue - Khartoum, tel. 00249/183.774.039, fax 00249/183. 773961)
previously known in Khartoum under the name of Grand Hotel, was built in the late nineteenth century and was home to no less that Queen Victoria, but also the famous explorer Thomas Cook and British Prime Minister Winston Churchill. Suggestive its position on the banks of the Blue Nile. It consists of 160 rooms furnished in colonial style, but also some private apartments.
NUBIAN
REST HOUSE (info at The Italian Tourism Co. Ltd., Street 27 - Al Amarat Khartoum.
00249/183.487.961 Tel, fax 00249/183.487.962. Email: info @ italtoursudan . com)
typical example of a Nubian-style house, the rest-house by Karima surprising since its entrance door, beautifully carved and brightly colored. The rooms are housed in a cozy property vaulted ceilings and wood furnishings, are distributed around a garden where you can admire the nearby sacred mountain of Jebel Barkal. Open from October to late April.
SAFARI CAMP BUT
(Ask The Italian Tourism Co. Ltd., Street 27 - Al Amarat Khartoum.
00249/183.487.961 Tel, fax 00249/183.487.962. Email: info @ italtoursudan . com)
Located in the Bagarwya taken, about 230 km north of Khartoum, the tented camp is the property of The Travels of Maurice Levi and above the spectacular necropolis of Meroe. Guests have access to as many as 10 tents colonial with 4 by 4 meters, mounted on a concrete base and decorated with delightful wooden furniture. Do not miss the sunrise on canvas chairs in front of the veranda, or dinner on the first floor of the nearby restaurant and ventilated. Open from October until the end of April.
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