The first (old) installment

As a young woman living in Southern Sudan, I am increasingly realising how bizarre my day to day life is, and have finally got off my lazy dusty ass and decided to create a blog to record the craziness that is the 5th World. As a taster of what is come, here is a mail I wrote some friends a while back about a normal day at the bar:

The Infamous Banana Split Incident

It was a normal night at the good old Bedouin bar. I arrived after my mid-afternoon rest and I began to do the usual opening up things for evening service.

'Do we have all the items on the menu?'
'No.'
'Why not?'
'Well, the cows were sick this week so we dont have any beef.'
'Ok, I can live with that. What else?'
'Weeeell, we dont have any cheese.'
'WHAT? Why not?'
'Somebody put it in the freezer and now its solid. But we can always get cheese from the market...'
'They sell cheese at the market??? I have never seen it!'
'Well, its in a tin.'
'In a tin?'
'In a tin.'
'Fine, get some. Anything else?'
'We dont have a dessert on the menu. But we could do a banana split I suppose.'
'Excellent. Thats the kind of initiative I am looking for!'

I walked away feeling that maybe the chefs were learning. Excellent. Next item..

'Do we have enough alcohol in the freezers for tonight?' (fridges dont cool stuff down fast enough)
'Ummm, well, there's a problem there.'
'What now?'
'The freezers arent working.'
'They arent working. Why?'
'I dont know, madam.'
'Did you speak to the electrician?'
'No, he has malaria.'
'So how long have they been off for?'
'24 hours'
'WHY DID NO ONE TELL ME?'
'...............................'
'Fine, lets have a look at them then... OK, you see this button here?'
'The white one?'
'Yes, the white one. Whats that next to it?'
'A plug?'
'Yes. Now watch carefully..... You turn the plug on like this..'

Finally I feel that everything is marginally under control. And the customers start coming in....
There are two sets of customers here. The old, drunk and dysfunctional, and the young, drunk and rapidly becoming dysfunctional. I love crazy people though so it suits me down to ground. They start to crowd round thethe bar and fill up the tables, all of them with the patina of dust that has settled during the journey from their shower to the bar. The hot and sweaty day fades into a hot and sweaty night as the music begins to rise in volume to match the merriment of my customers.

I circulate amongst the tables just to chat to those I know, get to know the ones I dont, and generally to blackmail them into coming back. I have to ward off a few bum slaps, a couple of marriage proposals from the more desperate than most, and one or two generalised complaints about the quality of our cheese. Luckily I can be quite charming. Or I hope I can.

I decide to head to the kitchen to check how things are going on this suprisingly smooth running night and as I pass the bar I am passed by a waitress carrying something rather odd looking.

'What is that?' I say, glancing in confusion at the plate
'I dont know, the chef just told me to take it', Sylvia shrugs and stares at me blankly.
'Come with me' I say, dragging her into the kitchen. 'CHEF! What on EARTH is this?' I ask, pointing accusingly at the plate.
'Madam, THAT is the banana split', says the chef, and then watches in consternation as I crumple to the floor in hysteria.

For sitting forlornly in the middle of the plate is nothing but a banana cut in half.
Thats what you get for trusting initiative.