Mogadishu

Photo I took in Kenya in 1989

I had the rare and exotic opportunity to go to Mogadishu, Somalia - twice!  My Mom and step father moved there for 2 years for work just as I was going off to college in the fall of 1988.  The 1st time I went was a summer trip with my grandma and my 2 step sisters.  We traveled from NY to Cairo spent some time there then went off to a fabulous safari in Kenya.  After that we all headed to Mogadishu where we spent the rest of our trip.

     The timing of our travels wasn't great because Somalia which was plagued for centuries with civil unrest was, yet again, besieged in tribal war.  The fighting had made it's way into the capitol and our trip was thus doomed with a national curfew.  We were all pent up in the house from sundown to sunup, 3 antsy teenagers and 3 restless adults.  We got pretty stir crazy and even though our trip prior to Somalia was exotic and adventurous we were all bored to tears, and, also, sorta fearing for our lives.
     The next summer when the opportunity to go back arose I was the only one crazy enough or perhaps adventurous enough to go back.  This time I spent the whole summer there and got a weird job at the USAID offices setting up a document library in a shack like building filled with unorganized files and books.  It was perfect, I got paid to be alone all day surrounded by volumes of reading materials.
     To say going to Somalia was an eye opening experience is the understatement of the year.  No where on earth could be more of a polar opposite from Schenectady, NY.  At that point in my life I had never been to a Third World country and, certainly, Somalia has zero tourism - it does not top anyone's "must visit" list.  I fancied myself a very worldly chap in the late 80's, I had exotic hair and listened to music I was certain no one else knew of except my friends and I.  That being said there are some realities of life in Suburbia that don't lend themselves to truly understanding how others live.  For instance, it had NEVER occurred to me that it's not possible everywhere on earth to run to a convenient store if you desired a snack.  Sounds pompous but, really, it never crossed my mind that some places don't even have stores.  That simple observation changed my whole perspective on life.
     Mogadishu was lucky if the electricity worked on a daily basis.  Surely, most of the natives Somalians didn't even have electricity or running water and in our neighborhood - next to the other expats and dignitaries from around the globe - it was dodgy at best.  Also, in order to eat any fruit or produce locally grown we had to soak it in a 1% bleach solution due to the fact that human waste was used for fertilizer.  How would a new wave suburban boy ever know these things without experiencing them 1st hand? "Not taught in schools" could have been the theme to our trip.  I also had never, ever, EVER heard of female circumcision and I was horrified, shocked and utterly dismayed to find out that was a common practice in Somalia.  That subject is for a whole other blog - someday, maybe, I could muster up the gumption to write more about it.  Let's just say it's way worse and more barbaric than it sounds.
     One of my fondest and most vivid memories is of sitting on my parents roof in late afternoon reading books.  I found it highly prophetic that I was reading "The Temple Of My Familiar" by Alice Walker while sitting high up with a view of the whole city in East Africa.  As I read the book, which weaves a fantastical & magical tale taking place partially in Africa, I smelled the charcoal of the city wafting up to my nose.  There were no real restaurants but the locals would set up little straw huts with grills all over the streets cooking food with a very rich and distinctive smokey aroma.  I would also hear the meditative and ghostly call to prayer from the several large mosques in this primarily Muslim country.  The sounds made eerie by the outdated PA systems that they used creating a tinny and echo-y effect that made it seem as if it were coming from another time and dimension.
     I will never forget my time spent in Somalia as it literally expanded my horizons far beyond any experience I had ever had at that point.  One of the reasons why I think traveling is essential is because it forces the brain to see and experience things that are normally out of the realm of possibility.  It heightens all of your senses when you walk down a street in a foreign land.  The eyes see more, the ears hear more, the nose smells more and the brain expands in ways that cannot be taught otherwise.  Most of you will never so to Somalia, I doubt I'll ever go back, but I hope a lot of you are able to make it to some parts of Africa.  It's essential.