Walking through the bustling, dusty streets of Khartoum, I found a large courtyard filled with several hundred men, most of whom were sitting on the ground, sipping tea, and talking. These plumbers, electricians, and painters gather here every day to wait for customers. In a country with no yellow pages and expensive phone service, it’s how tradesmen find work.

I fell into conversation with an affable electrician named Sulieman. “My friends call me Sully,” he said.

Sully (center, with a patterned shirt) and friends, in Khartoum, Sudan.

ABRAHAM MCLAUGHLIN

When I asked him about his business, he told me he gets a job once every five or six days – and earns the equivalent of US$30 to $40 a day. Then, interestingly, he admitted that he doesn’t use his earnings wisely. “Ah, it’s terrible,” he said, “I just spend it on wine and women.” Laughingly he added, “Women, wine, and war – that’s Sudan’s www.”

Then, a few minutes later, he said, “You know what I really need? A cell phone. That way I could be at a job, and customers could call me to set up a job for the next day. Then I wouldn’t have to wait around here all day for work.”

I responded: “Sully, why don’t you skip the wine and women – and save money for a cell phone?” A look of awe hit his face. “That’s such a big idea!”

This struck me as a strange response. Having been raised in the United States – the land of Donald Trump and his “apprentices” – it didn’t seem like a big idea to me.

Sully also mentioned the lack of good hotels in Sudan. “Why don’t you start one?” I said. “That’s such a big idea!” he said again.

It reminds me of other similar conversations I've had in other African countries.

A photographer friend once marveled at the incongruity in a drought-stricken Ethiopian village. A river sat about 100 meters away from the town. But villagers were not using river water to irrigate their parched fields. Were they waiting for rain?

Also, our gardner in South Africa – who’s a new father – recently said to me, “The difference between us black people and you white people is that you plan and budget – and then have babies. We just have babies and figure out the money later.” I responded that this certainly wasn't true of all blacks or whites. And, in fact, he had budgeted for his son’s arrival. He also works seven days a week to financially support nine relatives in his native Malawi.

But if these conversations are any indication, one of the many complex reasons for Africa's consistent poverty may be that there’s less concrete initiative here. Why? It’s hard to tell. Maybe it’s because many Africans have traditionally waited for their chiefs to carry out big plans. Maybe it’s because many people believe that their ancestors control their destiny – thus making individual initiative less relevant. And, certainly, widespread poverty breeds resignation and apathy wherever it exists.

As Sully and I ended our conversation, he said, “When I get money, I’m going to call you in South Africa, because you have big ideas.” If he does call, I hope he'll be calling from his new cell phone.

“Ah, you are from America. Thank God for George Bush!” It’s the first thing Ghazi Suleiman – a devout Muslim and one of Sudan’s top human-rights lawyers – says as I sit down in his living room in Khartoum one night. Dressed in a white tunic-like robe, he explains why he’s such a fan of President Bush.

First, he says, America’s ouster of Saddam Hussein has put pressure on leaders all over the Muslim world to loosen political and religious strictures. In Sudan – a nation with a predominantly Muslim North and predominantly Christian South - the government has continued to lessen its enforcement of sharia law and its harassment of political dissidents, he says. “I have more freedom because of the war in Iraq.”

Second, Suleiman supports Mr. Bush because, “he understands the problem with Islam.” It’s been used “as a machine gun politically to suppress the masses,” he says. It works as a tool of repression because according to Islamic law, “A good Muslim is not allowed to raise up arms against the state.” Also, politicians use the harsh punishments in Islamic law to disable their opponents.

“Islam is a good religion,” he adds, “but it must be watched. It must be caged.” Bush, he says, understands this. (This certainly isn’t the view Bush has expressed publicly. But I found the interpretation interesting.)

At this point, Suleiman’s friend and fellow lawyer, Gabriel Matur Malek, jumps in. He’s a Christian and a member of one of Sudan’s largest ethnic groups, the Dinkas. There’s an old Dinka saying, he says: “If you do something wrong to me, I forgive you. But I know that someday God will make you hit the son of a chief on the head. Then the chief will punish you.” Some Dinkas believe, he says, “that the Islamic world has hit the son of the chief on the head – and now they’re seeing the wrath of George Bush.”

As the conversation wound down, I bid goodbye. As I headed out the door, Sulieman called out, “You go back to your country and vote for George Bush!” No promises. But it sure was an interesting night.