A Place in the Sun, No Going Back, Living the Dream, Costa Living, Get a New Life…. In recent years British television schedules have been awash with programmes documenting the experiences of people who have upped sticks and gone to settle abroad. Tired of the rat race, seeking to give more meaning to their lives, or simply wanting change, they leave their jobs, sell up and head off south to re-invent themselves as farmers, shopkeepers, hoteliers – free spirits of whatever kind - in places as diverse as Andalucia and Zambia, Tasmania and Tuscany.
Sudan at the beginning of the 21st century was not a country you would expect to find on this list: one of the poorest countries in the world, governed by a hardline fundamentalist Islamic government, riven by a longstanding civil war, and considered a hardship posting for expats. Yet it had become one of the hotspots for Muslim converts from the West who felt that they could only fully live their newly adopted Islamic life by moving to an Islamic environment.
Mikal, Zarina, Mohammed, Naimah and Molly – two British and three American – have all left their home countries and are now living in Sudan. In this book they tell the story of their twin journeys from their previous religion to Islam, and from their culture of origin to that of their adopted country. Their personal stories are rounded out with contributions from other sources, both foreign converts and Sudanese Muslims.
My interest in these stories began when I was myself living in Sudan, between 1999 and 2004. It was a time when Islam was increasingly becoming a mainstay of the headline writers. Osama Bin Laden had already attracted attention with his alleged involvement in the bombing of the American Embassies in Nairobi and Dar es Salaam, followed by the retaliatory American bombing of the Shifa pharmaceutical factory in Khartoum where he purportedly financed the production of chemical weapons. Three years later the media focus on Islam intensified with the Twin Tower attacks. The belief that Muslim was a synonym for terrorist gained more ground while stories such as those of Richard Reid, the shoe-bomber, John Walker Lindh, the young Californian who fought with the Taliban, and Frenchman Jerome Courtailler, charged with involvement in a plan to bomb the US Embassy in Paris – to name but a few - gave conversion a bad name.
In the course of my work in Sudan I came across several western converts who had opted for long term residence in the country. The first of these was Khalid, an African-American in his late thirties who had been living in Sudan for about ten years when I met him. At the time, I was running an educational charity in Khartoum and was always on the lookout for people to teach in the language school that I had set up as an income generator. Khalid came into my office one day, looking for work. Clad in traditional Sudanese dress – white jellabiya and white turban – he had the good looks and easy charm of a Tiger Woods.
Khalid wasn’t a teacher but that was not an obstacle. As in so many other countries where people are avid to learn English, the Sudanese students’ first priority was to be taught from the mouth of a native English speaker. Khalid was keen, pleasant and eager to do a good job. I gave him a thrice-weekly class of elementary students.
After his first lesson one of the other teachers, a young British man, came to me aghast. “You can’t give that class to Khalid. The students won’t have it. They won’t come any more.”
“Why ever not?”
“He’s an Ansar al Sunna. The students don’t like people with these extreme views.”
The Ansar al Sunna – Followers of Tradition – is a strict Islamic sect whose adherents base their lifestyle on that of the Prophet Mohammed. They wear distinctive short jellabiyas and long beards, and are not all that popular with the average, more moderate Sudanese. Khalid’s jellabiya was not particularly short but the fact that, as a foreigner, he wore one at all, coupled with his beard, marked him out as someone with strong religious views. However the mass defection predicted by Vince did not come about and the students rejoiced in his American accent and his friendly manner.
Khalid’s lifestyle seemed like a Sudanese version of The Good Life. He lived in an outlying area of Khartoum in a traditional mud-brick house with the rooms grouped round a courtyard. His two wives, one Sudanese and one American, lived in separate parts of the compound with their respective children.....
Sudan at the beginning of the 21st century was not a country you would expect to find on this list: one of the poorest countries in the world, governed by a hardline fundamentalist Islamic government, riven by a longstanding civil war, and considered a hardship posting for expats. Yet it had become one of the hotspots for Muslim converts from the West who felt that they could only fully live their newly adopted Islamic life by moving to an Islamic environment.
Mikal, Zarina, Mohammed, Naimah and Molly – two British and three American – have all left their home countries and are now living in Sudan. In this book they tell the story of their twin journeys from their previous religion to Islam, and from their culture of origin to that of their adopted country. Their personal stories are rounded out with contributions from other sources, both foreign converts and Sudanese Muslims.
My interest in these stories began when I was myself living in Sudan, between 1999 and 2004. It was a time when Islam was increasingly becoming a mainstay of the headline writers. Osama Bin Laden had already attracted attention with his alleged involvement in the bombing of the American Embassies in Nairobi and Dar es Salaam, followed by the retaliatory American bombing of the Shifa pharmaceutical factory in Khartoum where he purportedly financed the production of chemical weapons. Three years later the media focus on Islam intensified with the Twin Tower attacks. The belief that Muslim was a synonym for terrorist gained more ground while stories such as those of Richard Reid, the shoe-bomber, John Walker Lindh, the young Californian who fought with the Taliban, and Frenchman Jerome Courtailler, charged with involvement in a plan to bomb the US Embassy in Paris – to name but a few - gave conversion a bad name.
In the course of my work in Sudan I came across several western converts who had opted for long term residence in the country. The first of these was Khalid, an African-American in his late thirties who had been living in Sudan for about ten years when I met him. At the time, I was running an educational charity in Khartoum and was always on the lookout for people to teach in the language school that I had set up as an income generator. Khalid came into my office one day, looking for work. Clad in traditional Sudanese dress – white jellabiya and white turban – he had the good looks and easy charm of a Tiger Woods.
Khalid wasn’t a teacher but that was not an obstacle. As in so many other countries where people are avid to learn English, the Sudanese students’ first priority was to be taught from the mouth of a native English speaker. Khalid was keen, pleasant and eager to do a good job. I gave him a thrice-weekly class of elementary students.
After his first lesson one of the other teachers, a young British man, came to me aghast. “You can’t give that class to Khalid. The students won’t have it. They won’t come any more.”
“Why ever not?”
“He’s an Ansar al Sunna. The students don’t like people with these extreme views.”
The Ansar al Sunna – Followers of Tradition – is a strict Islamic sect whose adherents base their lifestyle on that of the Prophet Mohammed. They wear distinctive short jellabiyas and long beards, and are not all that popular with the average, more moderate Sudanese. Khalid’s jellabiya was not particularly short but the fact that, as a foreigner, he wore one at all, coupled with his beard, marked him out as someone with strong religious views. However the mass defection predicted by Vince did not come about and the students rejoiced in his American accent and his friendly manner.
Khalid’s lifestyle seemed like a Sudanese version of The Good Life. He lived in an outlying area of Khartoum in a traditional mud-brick house with the rooms grouped round a courtyard. His two wives, one Sudanese and one American, lived in separate parts of the compound with their respective children.....
