One month?

How could this have happened? I must have fallen asleep for a week or two. Somehow I���ve only got four weeks left here, the last of which I hope to spend in Kenya chasing Africa���s wildlife. I have this burning curiosity to find out if the wonderful landscapes and animals are more beautiful in real life or on HDTV.

I���ve gotten very comfortable here and find a relaxing rhythm in my routine. Most of my work day is spent with my computer, which I am certain is not my ideal work environment but has been interesting nevertheless. Who���d of thought I would come to Sudan to bury myself in spreadsheets and a worn copy of ���Access for Dummies?���

But the best moments are the interactions with colleagues and afternoon walks. My time here has affirmed my need to feel part of a community���a blessing I���ve grown accustomed to. I have a group I play dominoes with late in the afternoon. We sit under an enormous mango tree and slam dominoes on a small, home-made table draped with a plaid cloth. There is usually an impatient older man standing behind me, just a bit drunk, who will grab the best domino from my hand and play it for me. I���m as good at dominoes as I am at badminton, I regret. Twenty or so children will invariably surround the game and will laugh hysterically at every noise I make in my over-dramatic playing style. This commotion brings more neighbors. One of the adults will bring me a Coke as an offering of gratitude for my visit. Someone will show up with a radio. Ugandan and Kenyan Christian religious music, or simple music in Arabic that sounds like an old man singing in a small room somewhere just a bit north in the Middle East, keeping time by slapping two blocks of wood together.

One of our cooks has a nine-year old daughter, Viola, who babysits another colleague���s baby. She spends the day walking around and helping her mother with various tasks. Viola has no idea how much I love our little routine. I sing her name three times when I see her in a simple cascading tune and then she will sing mine back, as long as there are no witnesses that might embarrass her.

I really enjoy conversations with guys my age. The same topics seem to come up: work, hopes for the future, and marriage. According to my friends here, I am far too old to be single. Last night Moses and the head guard Peter offered $50 each (well, Peter later dropped to 50 pounds, equivalent to $25) to help me purchase an engagement ring to hurry up and get married. I had just explained this tradition to them. When I woke this morning and stumbled out of my tent, Peter was nearby drinking tea after an all-night shift. He grinned and pointed, still continuing the conversation form the previous night, to a woman and said, ���Give her a ring!��� I really just wanted a cup of instant coffee.

Consensus says having two wives is ideal���more than five or six is a headache.

What I really love about the conversations is that we shake hands or high five immediately following all laughter. A really good conversation can have five or six handshakes. Handshakes are embarrassing though. My hands have never been so soft���the result of office jobs and studies���and the contrasts in texture and callous unavoidably reveal vastly different lifestyles.

During the evening, small bonfires fueled by the day���s trash line the main road. The smoke clumps with thick, humid air and hanging dust from the earlier traffic of enormous trucks clobbering dry dirt roads.

At night, when I���m reading in the tent, it���s sometimes hard to decipher the sounds. Children yell, batting their tongue between the corners of their grin. Often there���s a hollow drum beating inconsistently. Music shows up from time to time from somewhere nearby. The insects, owls, and amphibians are always there. Sometimes, in the far distance, I hear gunfire and screaming. Startled, I walk outside the tent to determine the direction of the violence. It���s always a colleague watching a movie on his or her laptop in their tent.

There is a lot I will miss here. Contrary to the experience I anticipated here in Sudan, I often find myself enjoying a wonderful feeling of relaxation.