| A Look at Khartoum |
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Page 2 of 3 Clearly, I had to get out of Khartoum fast. And though I didn’t want to take sides in a tragic civil war, I figured the Christian rebels in the south probably at least had beer. To that end, I began inquiring among the expatriate journalists at the Acropole as to how I might get down there. Each time, I was met first by a puzzled stare, and then some variation on “But that’s completely impossible.” Not only were there no flights to the south, but anyone attempting to make the trip in a car risked being blasted apart by the Sudanese air force. “The only way to get there,” a British journalist advised, “is to fly to Nairobi, and then double back overland.” I promptly shuffled down to the Sudan Airways ticket office to book the next Nairobi flight. “Of course this is no problem,” the solicitous young man behind the counter said. “Except we don’t know when the plane will come.” According to popular rumor, not long before, Sudan Airways had possessed four planes capable of flying to Nairobi. Depending on whom you asked, one had been shot down by rebels, another had crashed on its own, and a third had been seized by foreign aviation authorities for massive safety violations. That left one plane, presumably the one I flew in on, which had now been appropriated by the Sudanese prime minister for a goodwill tour of Europe and the Middle East. “So where is the prime minister now?” I asked. “Some say Italy,” the agent said. “Others believe Saudi Arabia. If you come back tomorrow, perhaps we will have better information.” Indeed, when I returned, the man was all smiles: “Very good news. The plane is coming now. Hurry and you’ll just make it.” Racing back to the Acropole, I packed up and jumped in a taxi for the airport. But after two or three hours of standing in the afternoon sun, word spread among our horde that the prime minister had apparently decided to linger in Kuwait—or maybe it was Yemen. The next morning found me back before the hapless ticket agent. I now had a new problem on my hands, as my Sudanese visa was about to expire, which would make me subject to arrest. Not a problem to the ticket agent: Taking up a cheap ballpoint pen, he simply extended the date on my visa by seven days. |
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