We were invited by a Sudanese colleague to go to a cousin's Iftar this Thursday. We all took a bus to the "suburbs" of Khartoum. We found ourselves weaving through mud-brick walls of unfinished, but inhabited houses. It was a race against the setting sun. We had to make our entrance before the breaking of the fast.
None of us really knew what we were getting into. We had simply been told to bring nothing and to dress conservatively. (Even more than usual!)
His cousin is a Sheik. I get different definitions everywhere I look, but he is a respected elder with his own community surrounding him.
We pass through the courtyard outside of the mosque. Mats are layed out, and men are beginning to gather. Through the gate... and there is more of the same. Smaller gathering. This seems to be the more important men.
We are ushered into a small room, lined with chairs. As the guests, we are eating inside, separate from the others. They bring in the large trays of food, and we all sit on the floor, gathering ourselves around the trays. No silverware is used- only the right hand. Some of it is a sludge-type food that involves putting most of your hand in your mouth. Game on!
I was seated in the same circle as Mirghani, our connection to this event. He explained the foods... stomach and intestines... Let's just say that tray of watermelon didn't last long!
After, several cousins came to introduce themselves and welcome us. They spoke very good English, and were even cracking jokes!
After the tea and spiced coffee, the women were dismissed to go meet the women of the community.
We passed all the men, now finished eating... through to another courtyard. And there we were! Probably 100 women, with children in tow, reaching out to say Salaam and shake our hands! They were so welcoming and interested in meeting us, despite the language barrier. I shook hundreds of hands, and just kept smiling...
We went to break fast with the ladies next door tonight. A few things I learned about visiting our neighbors:
No Ethiopia. The visas just aren't coming around. 
I was seated in the same circle as Mirghani, our connection to this event. He explained the foods... stomach and intestines... Let's just say that tray of watermelon didn't last long!
And boy oh boy- what results! Each group had to write it up, draw a storyboard, and bring the props. And today we filmed.
I think the pictures explain it all. Today he discovered how to hide under large pieces of low-lying furniture. So things are going well.
Every night since the start of Ramadan, we have arrived home to see our guards and neighbors eating in front of our house- Iftar, the breaking of the fast at sunset. Just as groups of men are doing all over the city, they lay out mats and bring out round trays of food, from which they all eat. Every night they offer us juice and food. Until tonight, we had refused the meal, but taken a glass of juice to appease them.
In addition to drinking more varieties of teas and juices, we also shared some of the food- potatoes, something resembling currry, sweet noodles and bread. After all of this, we shared Sudanese coffee- spiced in a way that they couldn't translate. 
We cautiously asked if we could take pictures- OF COURSE! They said to take pictures and send them to our parents, so that our parents would feel good about us being here- because we know our neighbors!
On a second note, we are almost out of butter. This shouldn't be a big deal. We've seen New Zealand butter at shops all around town. So we go looking for butter. Shop #1- no. Shop #2- nope. Shop # 3... you get the idea. We finally ask a friend... Her answer is simple. Usually its not a problem, its easy to find. But apparently sometimes there are butter droughts. No reason. There just isn't any to be found. So she tells us- next time, stock up!
