How Not to Offend Everyone in Omdurman (And How I Almost Did)

i didn’t come to omdurman expecting a syllabus of ‘don’ts.’ i brought a camera, a half-empty water bottle, and a vague idea that this city was a maze of khartoum-adjacent chaos. turns out, i forgot to pack curiosity. here’s how i learned the hard way.

first mistake: shooting photos in front of a pilgrim at the alaa mosque. i pointed my lens at the intricate geometric mosque carvings, thinking, ‘oh, they’re just masonry, right?’ wrong. the elder turned slowly, eyes narrowing. my shutter froze. he didn’t even say a word. i think i misread his silence as either approval or impending execution. at least the lens flare made the photo dramatic.

then there’s rent. real-deal oundrant doesn’t play games with strangers. i found a place in the old english compound for like $200 a month-shared flat, mosquito-net curtains, and a fridge that gives up on you by noon. but don’t think you’re getting a deal because it’s ‘local.’ the landlord drove me to the door with a look that suggested he’d rather rent to a goat. i learned later from a drunk friend (overheard while yelling at sleepers in a tram) that this area’s now ‘tourist bait.’ rent jumped to $600. or if you’re feeling fancy, $1,000 for a villa with a direct line to the nil. which leads to our next topic.

*safety: omdurman’s safe-ish. don’t wander into the lulu al-khataf neighborhood at 3 a.m. it’s not because of crime-though the night markets can get sketch-but because factions from the 2023 protests still patrol here. some old guys in fatāqah hats will give you a hard stare unless you ask correctly. and don’t ask to film locals too close. one guy threatened me with a broomstick because i filmed him selling dates near the burt theater. probably a stretch, but my trauma response was buying a new camera strap.

here’s the thing about weather: it’s not seasonal. it’s a mood. right now, it’s the ‘sudanese sauna of summer.’ you’ll want to wear clothes made by aliens. i’m talking 90% breathable fabric, 10% ‘i-did-not-care.’ today, i wore a shirt that dissolved into sand by 2 p.m. my neighbor, a yoga instructor who lives two blocks away, told me about her dog that died in this heat. we’re all just survivalists here, really.

neighbors*? like, the ougirit of umm draman are in wadi halfa. short drive. different vibes. wadi halfa has oldeuropean cafes and a vibe that screams ‘expat retiree.’ omdurman has a vibe that screams ‘cautious youth trying not to die.’ don’t confuse the two. i did once. now i keep my distance from strangers holding syrian-era passports.

reviews here are tricky. a lot of them are drunk advice from a guy who once got kicked out of a teahouse for complimenting the servant’s hair. he wrote, ‘kirche coffee is life, but avoid sunrise visits-they think you’re a prophet.’ another claimed the jebel monshaf market’s congee is so good it’ll cure your soul. unverified. but i tried it anyway. it tasted like regret.

so how do you not become a 외국인 (foreigner) pariah? here’s my (100% unscientific) data: ask people to come with you. omni is the most dangerous word in omdurman. if someone invites you to a meqaa or karaoke night, say yes. and always bring two friends. if one bails, the remaining four get a +5 luck boost. i tried going solo to a dhow cruise. the captain asked my name three times. i said, ‘i don’t care,’ but he kept squeezing my arm. we left in a mutual descent.

embed this: i swear this map shows omdurman’s ‘safety zones.’ don’t go west past jebel sakhino unless you’ve got a guide.

another thing: the coffee. omdurman’s coffee culture is stuck in 2010. Stronghouse is the place to go if you want to feel existential. they’ll dump a tablespoon of sugar into a chai so strong it’ll make your teeth itch. don’t order it black. they’ll think you’re mocking their heritage. i did. got a look. took me two coffees to realize i’m now part of their hierarchy. respect them. or them.

leaving something: if you shop in the al-busa.geti market and see a vendor with a child, give them money. they’ll know you. they’ll nod. i didn’t. i snapped a photo of his youngest son holding a melon like it was a trophy. the dad didn’t chase me, but the photo got deleted from my phone the next day. by mutual understanding.

links: check tripadvisor for the best (and worst) koshari places. yelp has a review from a guy who got scammed by a ‘friend’ selling fake ponytail wigs. and the oundrant reddit is your best friend. someone last week advised, ‘never wear white except at holy days.’ another said, ‘if a kid offers you gum, take it. it’s probably stolen, but so are you.’

also, marc train’s the best hostel. they’ll let you crash with a local family if you’re broke. i did. they gave me a beetroot hummus recipe. i now call it ‘tran sandstorm.’

data table time: rent in omdurman vs. khartoum. oundrant’s $200 vs. khartoum’s $400. job market? freelance photography is booming here. companies pay $50 a snapshot if you document their ‘local culture.’ i mean, they need accurate photos. or maybe they just want to look good hiring me.

embed more: the street art near the omdurman academy. someone painted a giant ethnocentric map of sudom. i tried to snap it but a bunch of teenagers thought i was challenging their homework.

How Not to Offend Everyone in Omdurman (And How I Almost Did)

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About the author: Aria Bennett

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