The Sudan - 10

I walk from the car to the back door of the office. Its 1pm and the sun is scorching. Im in the direct sunshine for no more than 3 minutes and im concerned that i haven't put any sun screen on. I ponder for a moment what it might be like to be working right now (only a few miles away from where i stand) in a desperately barren field, desperately hoping for a bit of crop to grow, desperately wishing for a swig of clean water, desperately worried about my dieing children, desperately waiting for the unrelenting sun to set. And then i think that at least this 3 minutes will keep my sun tan topped up.

Our car is stopped by the police today, we are directed to pull over by a one of a crowd of young policeman. Hes very tall and dressed in crisp white military looking uniform. Our driver winds down the smoked glass window to the policeman, and the two politely shake hands and exchange greetings as if they know each other. As our driver presumably explains what hes doing I hear the name of the organisation that im working for, and another man joins the policeman - hes just as young, but dressed in regular street clothes and demands that our driver lower the windows of the back of the car. Theres a cautious sideways glance at us in the back, an exchange of a couple of words and were sent on our way again. It probably meant nothing significant, but I was well prepared with my basic training in personal security to "remain with the vehicle but if forced to leave it remain behind the engine block for maximum protection"