Berbera & Sheikh

On a recent field visit to the eastern part of Somaliland, I saw a place I would never have thought I would see there. We had traveled up the road to the coast, about 2 1/2 hours north of Hargeisa, to the port town of Berbera that is located on the Gulf of Aden. Berbera is a small town, but a major port for Somaliland. It is also on the paved road connecting Hargeisa to towns and cities in the east of Somaliland. 

What I saw on the way to Berbera was what I expected to find there. It was dusty, dry and had barely any vegetation. Even the hills seemed as if they might crumble, if you ventured up them. It looked a bit like what I would expect I might have found during the Depression in the U.S., a giant dust bowl. 

We stopped in Berbera for lunch, took a few photos of the gorgeous sea, and then continued on the paved road on our way east. However, after we left Berbera the landscape began to change. First, there were some interesting rock formations that reminded me of what you might find in the southwestern U.S. They were various shades of yellow, orange, and white; layered in patterns, looking a like a rock parfait. They were carved into the sides of plateaus. The colors in the plateaus seemed as if they resulted from exposure to varying water levels at different times of year, but there was no water in sight. Looking at the landscape, I wondered if it was possible there was ever water there.

Past the plateaus, I noticed termite McMansions rising up out of the earth. They seemed to be 20-30ft high, looking like beige poplars that resembled the size and shape of the deep blue ones that you might find in a Monet painting.

It then seemed as if we suddenly turned a corner into the Rift Valley in Kenya. These gorgeous peaks came out of nowhere, poking up – high up – into the sky. In the land of dust behind us, I couldn’t have imagined that these monstrous green mountains lay ahead. Then we traveled through this little town of Sheikh at the base of the mountains and wound up and around the steep green peaks. I was snapping photos as if I was at the Grand Canyon, the driver stopping at certain points to indulge me. He had seen this place a thousand times I am sure, as his home town was on the other side.

As I was looking back, I could see this beautiful landscape laid out below the mountains. It resembled nothing I had seen previously in Somaliland. It was like the opening scene in some blockbuster film. I could almost hear the string section leading to the movie's introduction.

Somalia so far...

After just more than seven months here, I can hardly say that I have grasped the major issues this country is facing, but this is what I think about what I have observed so far...

Even though I feel that the issues that Somalis are facing here are basic to human beings everywhere, the situation is complex, to say the least. So far, in the areas I have visited, and from the various people I have spoken with, it seems that two of the major issues (and sources of conflict) are lack of water and lack of land. This is not surprising given the on-going drought in this mainly pastoral land, where livestock is one of its main exports. As a result, the drought affects everything from market prices to clan conflicts.

Tribalism is one of the main issues that is a part of every conflict here, it seems. People here identify themselves first with their clan. Then their sub-clan, sub-sub-clan, and on down...Apparently, asking "where are you from?" is code for "what clan do you belong to?"

In Mali, your family name told what ethnicity you were, what region you were from, and even which religion you were, depending. Here, it seems that your name is irrelevant as far as describing anything about you, except your religion. This is partially because if you meet an Abdi Rahman, Mohamud, or Fatima here; there are 10 more people with one of those exact names within spitting distance and surnames don't appear to really exist anymore.

When I look at Somalis, I see what they have in common - a language, a culture, a religion, food, etc.... They even look alike.  The only recognizable difference that one might be able to point to (though I cannot because I don't speak Somali) are regional accents, which again bring everyone back to the question "which clan do you belong to?"

Of course, I am an outsider. I will never be able to fully understand the fierce loyalty that Somalis have to their respective clans. I won't ever feel the painful gut reaction that Somalilanders feel when people refer to Somalia - and are speaking about Somaliland. I didn't survive a siege on my city or have to flee from it because someone from another clan sent people to bomb it.

However, maybe that is exactly the point. Even though there are many things Somalis and Somalilanders have in common, it may be that not validating their feelings (or attempting to understand them) is why we can't help to change them.