In Sudan it is impossible to withdraw money from international cards

The manager of the hostel asked me if I could stay for a few days for free because I do not have the money. He was very surprised that I was out of money. I told him I had money, but I can not choose an account held in the Czech Republic and in Sudan. He did not want to believe it at all. I tried to convince him, but he did not tell.

We started the day at a local boutique. We had lamb broth with rice, potatoes in tomato sauce, vegetable sauce with pancake and as a dessert of mash with biscuits and ham. Lunch was hearty and I feel like I have twins. We went to the bank, but before that, we stopped at the side of the manga-fresh chilled juice, which we had all washed out. He was stabbing like a bee on a hot day and I was totally cracked in the seams.

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I went to the Islamic Sudanese Bank. Nasr explained all the bankers at the counter. He then asked me to get my credit card. Hmm, mastercard, you’ll have to go to a special company in Khartoum. I do not know if this is a way of transferring money like Western Union, but I did not really want to believe it and probably charge a large commission from the amount you have chosen.

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We let Nasra swim with some advice and jumped into fat-fat and went to the Nile. We sat on the terrace overlooking the wide Nile, and we became acquainted. He called his pregnant wife, an English teacher, to talk to her. I hate to call and, moreover, with people I do not even know and barely understand, so it was an almost superhuman task and a nice trap.

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These days, the heat was unbearable during the day, which I solved by dipping a Palestinian scarf, a t-shirt, and sometimes my pants into the water and walking in the wet. Everything in the dry climate quickly dried up. The rest of the day I sat with Nasr at the reception of the hostel, and he gave him free time. Sometimes he needed a bounce, so I chose the money because the hostel also serves as a public toilet and a shower. People even walk in and overload their clothes.

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Nasr jumped back to his house, turned off the galabi, and then went to pray to the mosque. He invited me to dinner tonight. We always had beans, this time enriched except for cheese with eggs and fried liver. He bought a balaclava as a dessert, and we drank it with hot milk with ginger. Sudanese drink boiled milk in the heat in the heat, filling it funky in coca-cola glass bottles and refrigerating in the refrigerator. In the winter months, milk is hot on the other hand.

We made the day with unconventional fun. The boys wanted to look at my pornographic images. I sat with Narser and Mohamed at the reception of the hostel, it was night, almost all of us were asleep and we were looking at the backyard. We released the first picture, and Mohamed watched in amazement and said that the woman was all white and if I had no blacks. Unfortunately. The overdrive also did not really enjoy it and told me to move it directly to the event. There was another astonishment that the guy just had a little pine. I told him that the Europeans are still well in comparison with the Asians, and then we went to sleep.

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