Ramadan, Easter and the Return of the Rains

As I begin this blog entry, I’m on a flight from Nairobi to Mogadishu. I’m sitting in the same seat on the same airplane where the woman passed away on a flight a few weeks ago. The incident still frequently invades my thoughts.

I likely won't finish this before we land but I'll at least start. 

The flight attendant, a Somali-Kenyan, is someone I’ve known for several years. He always takes good care of me – one of the perks of being such a frequent flyer I suppose. A few months ago, I inadvertently left something on the floor of the plane below my seat. Because he knew me and who I worked for, he was able to track me down. He connected me to the pilot whom I later met at a hotel in Nairobi to return the item. Nice.

A couple of guys behind me on the plane remind me that early in my time in Somalia, one of my staff told me that Somalis are talkers, often loud talkers. He connected it to centuries of oral tradition (quick fact: Somali wasn’t even a written language until 1972 and there was a debate at the time was whether to use Arabic script or Roman characters, eventually choosing the latter). Conversation is how things get done, face-to-face or by phone. Though I tend to guide a lot of work communication through written form (easier for me from a documentation and time management standpoint), I inevitably am drawn into sitting down to tea and sorting out the issues of the day. It does have an appeal, and it’s better for issues that are more sensitive in nature, but it can eat up your workday in a hurry. It’s also a challenge for me as a foreigner given the security situation and necessary logistics. I can’t just tell someone to meet me at a nearby coffee shop. I need an armored vehicle; there needs to be sufficient planning, and it needs to be in a location that has sufficient security. It's a hassle and it's expensive so such meetings are infrequent. Meeting within the "green zone" is easier, but it's costly for me to go there.

One example happened a few days ago. My security team pulled the plug on a meeting one of my staff had scheduled the day prior to have tea at a (well-fortified) place a few blocks from our office. I had just left the “green zone” where I was attending another meeting when the vehicle changed course and sped towards our office. My phone connection had dropped and the driver didn’t speak English so I didn’t know what was going on. I initially thought the driver was confused when in reality, I was the one. My security guy decided it wasn't safe. It’s not an uncommon event so I, nor anyone else gets too bent out of shape about it. You just make the necessary adjustments and move on.

* * *

Easter has come and gone. From January until June, it seems like it will be a non-stop flurry of activity. My time in Somalia has been more limited due to Ramadan and I’ve enjoyed the extra time with family. It came to an end with Eid being celebrated last week. As such, I will be away from home most of April and a large part of May. It’s not ideal but it’s what I do.

* * *

In the meantime, the rains have hit Kenya. It has been cool and wet. I like it and I like the fact that the weather is always changing this time of year. There can be tropical downpours followed by warm and sunny weather within minutes. It’s hard to plan activities and clothing, but that’s a minor inconvenience.

clouds bearing down on Mogadishu

I also realize that the rains bring problems for many people. Incessant mud, flooding, etc. can make this period long and arduous. All the while in Mogadishu it has been brutally hot. There were a few small rains but nothing substantial. Nowadays it’s hard to predict whether or not the rains will come, and if so how much. But the prediction for most of the country is a medium-to-heavy rainy season. We’ll see.

* * *

Some time has passed since I wrote the above text. I’ve been back and forth to Somalia a couple of times since. I’m now at the UN compound in the “green zone” doing some emails after having my first run in Somalia and my first dip in the ocean. It’s a surreal experience for those of us who live on the outside where security constraints make it feel a bit like being on "house arrest" most of the time. I’m sure these UN and other international staff who live here take it for granted. It was quite a special moment, to be honest. Given that I’ve been here for almost a week and a half (it can make you stir crazy), it was a wonderful break before heading back into town.

the coastline of Mogadishu - this part off limits to most

 * * *

Lastly, still on the topic of Somalia, I attended a World Immunization Week event a couple days ago. These events are rather frequent and I often need to share the responsibility of attending with others on my team. It can be a bit much since there seems to be a world day for about anything.

On this occasion I had shown up more or less on time, even knowing that these things are notoriously delayed. This one was a bit more punishing in that it ended up kicking off more than two hours after the scheduled start. 

This one was in a decent hotel and I didn't really mind. I occupied my time by networking with my UN, NGO and government counterparts. It was good to have the time to engage with them and the event itself is a very worthy cause. Vaccinating children is one of the most noble and important activities we do in this country.

can you find the non-African?

 

Interestingly, I never received an invitation. According to the Ministry of Health, it was a slip-up on their part. But I found out about it the night before from my deputy director and decided to attend anyway. Though I attempted to sit in the middle, I was ushered to the front row. I didn't have a suit and tie with me so I was hoping to sort of blend in with the crowd - also because I wasn't even invited.

As the speeches were beginning, the guy next to me pointed out that I was on the agenda as one of the speakers. Gasp. Wait, what? How did I get on the speaker list without even being invited? 

The next dilemma was deciding what to do. Do I quickly pull together a speech within the next five minutes, in my casual wear? Do I politely decline even though hard copies of the agenda with my name on it have been distributed throughout the room? To be honest, I would have wanted to speak. It's good visibility for us and I do have some things to say on the topic. On the other hand, without time to prepare, I may do more damage than good. I leaned over to one of the organizers and politely declined. I told him to invite me next time and I'll be happy to speak. I think he understood and, given that the event was so delayed, omitting a speech probably wasn't going to draw much attention or concern. 

In the end, I still ended up heavily present on social media and Somali news.