Not just another breakfast.

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...