« To The Mog | Main | Basara »

January 13, 2005

Arrival in Mogadishu

White, blinding white. My eyeballs ached with pain as I looked out across the bright dusty limestone runway from the beach surf aircraft door. We landed 28km outside of Mogadishu at a small airstrip that sat 200 meters off the Indian Ocean. The air smelled like fresh fireworks, something that wouldn’t leave my nostrils until I returned to Nairobi, and even now when I recall my days in Somalia the smell still comes back to me. The seas air was filled with humidity and gust of wind kicked up waves of white clouds of dirt that rolled past in gentle tumbling motions, but the dust never seemed to stick to me, maybe it was the wet sea air or maybe the dust had a mind not to bother visitors. Toyota pick ups, I would say five, waited for whatever or whomever exited the aircraft. Somali men with dull purple kitenges and stained white button-up shirts loitered around the airstrip with one hand gripped on the strap of their AK-47, not in a tone of ‘ready for combat’, but like a school boy would hold the strap of his Jansport bag as he talked to his friends. My eyes were nearly shut from the blinding brightness of the limestone, and there was no escape, if I looked to the sky the sun would blind, if I looked to the ground the white surface would blind, so I opted for a little of both and kept my head fixed, with squinted eyes, level to the horizon. I could here the lapping of waves beyond the crest of a wall of rust colored rock. We walked to the hold of the plane where a Somali boy was busy tossing luggage and duck taped boxes down to the passengers. As I pointed to my bag, for the boy to hand down to me, I heard “Salaam Allekum”. Both Will and I turned to see Elias, our contact and point man for IAS operation in Somalia. “Allekum Salaam” we replied, then greeted each other with joyful hand shakes and hearty smiles. Elias then introduced us to Douglas who also heads the Somali-Mogadishu projects. Both of them hail from Kenya, but after the time these pilgrims have put in they now come from two worlds. And that’s how it is in Somalia, your not just merely in another country but it is like you have landed on the surface of another world. What could I compare it to? The best I can think of is to say it is like traveling to Mars. The environment is harsh and deadly, the place is deemed unacceptable for human life, and instead of myths of little green men Somalia tells the tales of warlords, blood feuds, and clans—but unlike the E.T.’s of mars the Somali stories are frighteningly true.

We shouldered our bags and strolled with Elias and Douglas toward the white IAS Hilux. The wind blew at us more intensely as we walked closer to the ocean. A feeling of ‘Finally after all these years I am standing in Somalia’ sent surges of excitement pumping through my veins. We loaded up and took curious note of the heavily tinted windows. Elias said of the windows, “You can see out, but no one can see in...safer that way, because if they see white (meaning us) they start to shoot.”

Zooming away from the limestone airfield our journey to Mogadishu and the rest of Somalia began...

Posted by Admin at January 13, 2005 08:40 AM