There has been some drama here in the wake of Abaarso's decision to “press charges” and imprison Omar and his brother Mulit, (Mull-eat) the psychologically unstable man who vandalized the track and threatened a certain track-runner. There is a bit of a backstory involved. When Abaarso Tech was first being built, a quiet deal was made between one of the AT Directors and Omar regarding the use of the land on which the school sits. Omar claimed ownership of the land, though every government official consulted deemed the land “public,” to the extent that it had been virtually untouched for many hundreds of years. But to appease Omar, said Director promised that in return for Omar's “donation” of the land, he would be given a job at Abaarso Tech. Omar's job, for which some say he was grossly overpaid and under-qualified, was to turn the school's generators on-and-off at the appropriate times of day. He was quite complacent about this duty, and was generally difficult to work with, and so the AT administration had long been unhappy about his employment here. Now that Omar committed a blatant act of vandalism, AT had a legitimate reason to terminate his employment and find someone who would work earnestly for pay here.
In the meantime AT has relied on some of the other employees here to manage the power generators – the guards, mostly. But a day or two ago the Abaarso Village Elders decided that none of Omar's clansmen are permitted to take over Omar's position. This is essentially the Somali version of Western-style Labor Unions. The AT administration hold 2 viewpoints on this simultaneously. On the one hand, they agree with the employee who relayed the news of the Elder's decision: while in Somaliland, we must obey the ways of the people here. We cannot push too hard and expect Somalilanders to want to convert instantly to Western practices. They value their way of life, even while demonstrating a deep respect for Western learning and progress. On the other hand, AT cannot function like the “tight ship” its founder envisions if the school is expected to maintain a payroll of employees who do not work.
Conclusions: 1.) This may be a good time for me to learn how to turn on-and-off these power generators. 2.) Maintaining a positive relationship with Somalilanders, especially the Tribal Elders, is a complicated business.
**
The other day I had the a startling realization: there are desert roses right outside my apartment window. Many, many months ago when I was meditating constantly on where I wanted to be in the next phase of my life, the song “Desert Rose” by Sting kept popping into my head. For some reason the imagery conjured up in that song resonated strongly – and now, right outside my window, are the very desert roses I had seen in my mind's eye. Ojala!
**
In other news, I'm fast becoming a proficient catcher of house flies. The house flies here are a good deal slower than those I remember from home, making easy targets on the kitchen table at lunch. Other than the flies – which are not really that bothersome – I've seen only a handful of other bugs. Very pretty, interesting, and fairly large bugs, but not in the hoards I'd expected. My guess is that the wind here makes life difficult for the delicate winged creatures. And so when I do happen upon any new type of arthropod I'm intrigued and curious rather than creeped out. (To be fair, I attribute this attitude of child-like-wonderment-in-place-of-fear in part to an Invertebrate Biology course at The UofC). But still, personal growth comes in many forms.
**
I happened upon another land tortoise on the AT track. The fellow was roughly 1' high at his peak, 1' max width, and 2' long. He looked kindly upon me with eyes as old and wise as the hills, and seemed to say, “Yes, I will permit you to stand there and gape. Take your time.”
**
To my EAA friends: Kiette says that she's spotted USAF Drones flying overhead recently, buzzing about with their distinctive sound. I've yet to see one, but perhaps if they're really sending drones over, they've already seen me. My guess is that the drones fly from the airbase at Djibouti through Somaliland to the front lines at Puntland or wherever – but who knows.
Also for my EAA friends: I think that glider flying here would be as good as anywhere in the world. With the combination of hilly (almost mountainous) desert terrain, strong hot winds, and clear thermal swells, there must be just about everything a glider could want. I've also caught myself on several occasions thinking that one aircraft in particular - an aircraft on display at the EAA museum, the Lockwood AirCam – would be perfect for flying 'round here. So if any of you pilots desire a vacation to really get away from it all, come visit me in your aircraft. And bring along a care package.
**
A women (Hinda) whom we'd met on the plane into Hargeisa recently came out to visit the school. She gave me the Somali name Marwo, which she explained means “the woman who has everything – beauty, brains, work ethic, charm, kindness, sincerity, wealth.” What's not to like about this name? And it is such a natural adaptation of “Margaret”! In exchange for the tour of AT, Hinda offered to give a tour of Hargeisa General Hospital. The other female AT teachers went on the tour, but I couldn't bring myself to go with them. I was simply not in the right frame of mind for that type of tour. And I'm glad I didn't go. The girls came back a bit shaken, as the hospital is apparently a fairly gruesome place. A reminder that this is indeed the 3rd world. Jonathan said that at one point he worked with the hospital administration to find out what improvements they most desired. The administration asked for training, and so J. got doctors and other employees of Massachusetts General Hospital to offer their assistance – at which point the people at Hargeisa General stopped responding to his emails. After hearing this I find it difficult to feel too sorry for the state of the hospital - I think of the cliché, you can lead a horse to water...
But anyway, I'm sure the experience is one the girls will not soon forget, and will provide great material for the one teacher in particular who is looking to “cut her teeth” as a journalist here. And I really do like my new Somali name.
**
New list of wants from Hargeisa: Head-wraps/head bands, gladiator sandals (vain fashion statement), a blanket, shea/coconut oil-butter, some sort of fragrance (myrrh or lavender or something), and Chickens.
**
We are in the final stages of chicken coop prep! We've secured a thorn-and-bramble perimeter and created a door/gate into the chicken-compound, we've moved the coop into place, raked the stones out of the soil to expose the healthy soil, built a ramp for the chicken coop, bought water-bins, and heaped piles of dried sorghum stalks in the area, to use for the nesting area inside the coop. We already have a “chicken pail” established as a compost bin, so all that's left (I think) is to purchase some corn to use as chicken scratch, and choose our chickens! J knows where he'd like go to purchase these chickens, so we're waiting for the date to make that happen. I'd like to start out with no more than 8 chickens, and get them to lay healthy eggs at the most efficient rate possible before expanding. I've read that we can expect about 2 eggs per day from 3 chickens – so that's the rate we'll shoot for (unless anyone knows otherwise??!!!)
The thorn-and-bramble fence makes the chicken run look like a maximum security poultry-penitentiary. And the thorns as so strong, thick, and sharp that they stab their way right through even the most thickly-soled shoes. I spent a good 45 minutes plucking the thorns out of my basketball shoes with tweezers after we'd moved the “fence” into place. While plucking away I kept thinking of the biblical stories of Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane, and the thorny crown they say was jammed down on his head. Before coming here the only imagery I had for “thorns” were those on my mother's rose bushes. Not so anymore. Here in the Sahel, thorns are serious business. At the very least, the thorny brambles should keep the chickens in, and everything else, out.
This Somali-chicken thing will be (and has been) an experiment in all kinds of things - that's what I know for sure.
All for now.
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