You Know How We Do –Khartoum Style

I have a whole new respect for the Sudanese hawkers in the street since yesterday. They sell fake Prada and Gucci bags, belts and wallets, right smack in front of the chic stores selling the real deal. And they look so relaxed doing it too, as if they’re just having a chilled day out at the seaside. No amateurs here, they have a brilliant system: they lay out their wares on a sheet with a length of rope threaded through the corners, never letting go of it even when they’re fishing for change in their back pockets. And in case they need to run, the whole thing bundles together in a millisecond, just by tugging at that rope, into a kind of sack.

As I walked by I noticed a police officer make a beeline for them and I stuck around to see what would happen. They’d spotted him too, of course, probably way before I did. But they didn’t start running like I thought they would, like any guy in their position does anywhere else in the world. No. I watched them bundle up their stuff with an exaggerated ease, alert but determined not to lose their cool. One of them went as far as to make direct eye contact with the police officer and –catch this—smiled at him. Talk about cojones! Then he slung his load onto his shoulder and sauntered off.

Respec’…