the sea of berbera

Weeks in Hargeisa can be long and exhausting. So, what better can one do to take a break then joining the beach of berbera for a weekend?
Gesagt getan, rein ins auto, and on we went on the long and bumpy road towards berbera. A friend of mine, Olaf from Germany (there is also a ralph and a ulf and a alfred from germany living in this city - somehow they managed to combine the worse german names in this town ;-) has been here for the last five years, trying to fix that road between berbera and hargeisa. He's leaving in three weeks, since the road is ok now (if we dont count the bumps and potholes every ten meters). Today I asked him how he feels about the future of the road. Which future? According to him, in six months from now it will be just in the same condition as it was when he reached somaliland five years ago. Welcome to somaliland!
but anyway, thats not the story which i want to tell you now. I will rather give you an idea about the NICE sides of Somaliland. The worse i rather write you in an email - otherwise you might not visit my site again...

Late in the evening we reached Berbera. Or better the sea, than the salty water was actually the first thing I touched after jumping out of the car. Thousands of sparkels turned up around me, and at one point i had difficulties separeting the stars from the phosphorising plancton of the water. Water was also the thing which I continued to touch over the next 24 hours. Aber genug der worte, pictures might give you a better impression of what berbera is all about:


For instance
sunken vessels,
reminding home
sick "westlers" -
in this case Sandra,
of the remoteness
of this place.


Little pirates trying to drag me into their boat...




...and some semi friendly kids who were very much interested to see their tounge in the screen of my digi cam.

Jointly agreed on trusting the father of the little pirate instead. For ONLY fourty dollars they offered us a romantic boattrip in their fishing boat. Tens of people whatched us leaving the port - what was going on in their mind? Thoughts of pirates waiting for a now load of wazungus? Thoughts on whether tourism could become one of their future income sources? Who knows...
Piratism is in any case a more realistic income than tourism.
Neverthless our skipper tried to be a good tour guide (or a clever one?) and promised us dolphins, sharks and lots of other fish.

After reaching the beach safe again i can say that the smell of rotten fish was the only thing accompanying us throughout the trip.
- no dolphins, no sharks, and more than all:

NO FISH! As much as oscar from sweden (he should know how to catch fish, shouldnt he?) tried, no fish was attracted by his rode.


Gwenn gave up quickly his ambitions to catch some fish for lunch and tried to look at the situaton from the green peace perspective.

...should i climb or should i not?

After giving it some thoughts he decided to keep his narrow place in our tiny boat for the meantime and join greenpeace later on.

And instead of saving innocent sea animals, we bought and ate them.

for the first time in my life i saw oysters as big as a plate. It took the cook of the restaurant an hour to open them...
Ich selbst habe allerdings meine Haelfte dankend abgelehnt. Der Anblick allein hat mir den appetit aufs erste verdorben.

And how did the weekend come to an end?












Mit ein paar melancholischen Blicken Richtung Horizont, der kalaschnikov fest im griff, und einer partie bocce am strand.

Se la vi! Berbera, ich gehe, aber ich komme wieder!

leben nach der arbeit - teil eins

Einigermassen eingeschraenkt in der freizeitgestaltung gelingt es mit vereinten kraeften dem internationalen grueppchen doch immer wieder, sport, spass und unterhaltung auf ein akzeptables level zu hieven. nicht zu verachten und integraler bestandteil des nachmittagprogramms etwa ist der tischtennistisch auf der dachterrasse unserer "deminer" von Halo trust, einer demining organisation (entminer? - na, wie auch immer, das dach ist jedenfalls frei von minen). Waherend ich mich nach wie vor nicht fuer volleyball interessiere, und tennisschlaeger lieber uebersehe als in die hand nehme, melde ich mich mittlerweile freiwillig als gegnerin beim tischtennis (wenn ich grad nicht mit gewichtheben siehe rechts hinten beschaeftigt bin :-)

Das wirlich gute an hargeisa sind allerdings - so traurig es klingen mag - die vielen abschiedsparties. Da somaliland als "hardship post" eingestuft wird und die arbeitsumgebung auch nicht unbedingt zum laengeren weilen einlaedt, bleiben die meisten personen nur ein paar wenige monate im lande (in der stadt). Das fuehrt dann dazu, dass es jedes wochenende (also donnerstags) eine abschiedsparty gibt - und hin und wieder eine willkommensparty, wenn ein verloren geglaubtes schaf wieder zurueckkehrt. Einige wenige schaffen es tatsaechlich immer wieder, zurueckzukehren - so etwa gwenn, rechts aussen am foto. Dreimal hat er bereits seinen abschied unter freudentraenen gefeiert und paris mon amour gesungen - bisher ist er jedesmal wieder zurueckgekehrt. Seine versuche, somaliland zu verlassen, nehmen allmaehlich kafkaeske zuege an. Mitte dezember started er seinen vierten versuch. Wird er es diesmal schaffen? Ich freue mich jedenfalls schon auf die abschiedsparty!

Was auf derartige abschiedsparties folgt sind meist ausgiebige brunches auf der dachterasse. Mozarrella, knuspriges vollkornbrot, jogurt oder gar schokoladecroissants sind zwar rariraeten auf dem fruehstueckstisch, dafuer entschaedigen sonnenstrahlen und eine herrliche aussicht!

das wars auch schon von teil eins dieser geschichte - teil zwei folgt morgen - inshalla!

weil es eines meiner lieblingsfotos ist...

...soll es nun endlich auch seinen platz am blog finden! Lange ists her, beinahe auf den tag genau zwei monate, dass ich dieses foto gemacht habe.
Irgendwo im nirgendwo (naja, eigentlich zischen Sheihk, Burao und Ghideys, aber wer kann sich schon all die fremden namen merken) war ich am 29 september als wahlbeobachterin unterwegs. Mittlerweile sind zwei monate vergangen. Zwei wochen hat es gedauert, bis die ergebnisse bekannt waren - zwei monate hat es gedauert, um das frisch gewaehlte parlament einzuweihen. und einen sprecher/in zu waehlen. Waehrend die wahlen friedlich verlaufen sind, erstaunlich friedlich, und wahlbetrug soweit nicht gemeldet wurde, hat die erste sitzung des parlaments just in einer handgreiflichen auseinandersetzung zwischen regierungs - und oppositionsparteie geendet. Sollten sich die gewaehlten doch ein beispiel nehmen an den waehlerInnen, die teilweise stunden gehatscht und stunden in der sonne verbrachten, nur um ihre stimme abgeben zu koennen - keine beschwerden, keine unstimmigkeiten. und was machen diejenigen, die gewahlt wurden, am ersten tag im neuen amt? stuehle werfen und sich gegenseitig beschimpfen!

hargeisa panorama

der blick von der dachterasse ... blauer himmel, staubige stadt...

cash, camels & chaotische zustaende

was macht man, wenn man in hargeisa mal grad nicht im buero vor dem computer sitzt? Oder aber eine Abwechslung zum alltagstrott im Guesthouse sucht? In solchen momenten schnappt man sich am besten einen fahrer samt wagen, um hinter verdunkelten fensterscheiben das stadtleben an sich vorbeiziehen zu lassen - normalerweise fasziniert einem dieses trubeln am strassenrand und AUF den strassen meist so stark, um die fensterscheibe herunterzukurbeln, ein kopftuch um den kopf zu wickeln und ebenfalls zumindest durch gesten am geschehen teilzunehmen...

Zugegebenermassen, nach anfaenglichem schock habe ich mich an die teils an wahnsinn grenzende situation auf hargeises strassen gewoehnt. so sehr gewoehnt, dass ich bei meinem letzten aufenthalt in nairobi ueberwaeltigt war von dem fluesterasphalt, gepflegten verkehrsinseln, sauberkeit der strassen - naja, ist natuerlich alles in relation zu sehen :-)

ueber hargeise koennten viele geschichten geschrieben werden. Doch beschrieben werden kann das bunte treiben auf den strassen am besten mit drei begriffen:

cash

morgends gegen zehn werden nicht marktstaende aufgebaut, sondern maeuerchen aus geldziegeln - hinter denen sich dann khatkauende, quatschende und kaffeetrinkende geldwechsler verbarrikadieren. habe mich schon des oefteren gefragt, ob der somaliland shilling, der - obwohl jung - etwas von der inflation mitgenommen wurde - als kiloware verkauft wird? Oder doch in form von ziegeln? Der Geruch der abgegriffenen geldscheine erzaehlt jedenfalls baende von den Orten, an denen sie bereits mit plastikbaendern zusammengehalten und als mauern der oeffentlich keit angeboten wurden...

Kamele

die werden nicht nur am viehmarkt verkauft, sondern nehmen recht aktiv am city life teil... gemeinsam mit den ziegen teilen sie sich die khatstengel, die morgens die strasse sprenkeln, und die plastiksaecke, die straeucher und baeume dekorieren - neulich meinte eine freundin, dass ziegen und kamelfleisch aus somaliland im ruf hoher qualitaet steht - na, gwiess net das fleisch der oertlich ansaessigen stadtkamele!

Chaos

aber wenns nur die kamele und geldwechsel waeren, die ihr business am strassenrand erledigen - wenn nur der strassenrand von dem alles in allem liebenswerten treiben gepraegt waere ... leider sind meist die strassen selbst von chaos gepraegt. Um dem entgegenzuwirken, gibts an jeder kreuzung polizisten - doch die sorgen, wie ein bekannter neulich meinte, meist fuer mehr unordnung und verwirrung als ordnung. "you know, meinte er mit ernster stimme, they can stop you whereever you are and ask you for money to buy a coke, or for a cigarette. Sometimes they may also ask for some kaht leaves, if they see that you have some in your car"... aha, also auf die polizei braucht man nicht zu zaehlen. Ampeln gibts zwar, aber die sind mehr eine dekoration und meist ausser betrieb. Also bleibt nur eines, wenn der fahrer aus der gegenrichtung kommend ploetzlich aus heiterem himmel rechts abbiegt, ohne blinker, ohne vorwarnung, als wuerde die strasse ihm gehoeren:

laut HUPEN!

Only the flies...

are still alive. And some odd bugs. The rest of the country has fallen into a sleep like sleeping beauty. But it was not the poisoned needle which made the country sleep – it was the moon, which one night decided not to appear. The next morning the sweet shaa (Somalitea) was missing in the office, as the voices of my col- leagues were. Together with the moon every kind of life disap- peared from the streets. Goats are not anymore jumping around but idling in the narrow shade of broken walls. Camels stopped chewing the leftovers of the stimulating khat leaves (and the bags in which they are normally wrapped). Children stopped singing, and men stopped debating inside semi dark mefrishe (Somaliland teashops). Not even the khat lorries, which normally enter town accompanied by a full-scale orchestra of honks and metal sounds, are greeting Hargeisa. Life has stopped to be during daytime. Ramadan, the holy month of the Islamic world, has arrived.

I used to observe Ramadan in other countries like Tanzania and Kenya. The challenge in the first one, where I used to live as a student at the main university compound, was to get food else than “chipsi mayay” (potato chips mixed with egg, fried in cheap oil, accompanied by an unhealthy looking pink tomato sauce) after eight o clock in the evening. In the second country, Kenya, I experienced Ramadan from its best side, being invited several times for dinner in the house of a Swahili family originating from the Arabic influenced coastal settlements of Kenya. Here, in Somaliland, I learn to know for the first time what it means to live Ramadan. Having breakfast after six o clock in the morning? Forget about it! Getting hold of people after midday? No way! Drinking coffee in the afternoon? Wait until six pm!
At the moment I am in the middle of a fieldtrip, south east of Hargeisa. My mission is on one hand to collect data for a final assessment of a CARE project, which has been finalized last month, and to carry out interviews with female teachers on the other hand. Don’t ask me why I believed that Ramadan only affects major towns?! With my ambitious plan of meeting people form six am til six pm I was not much successful up to now. “Silly ex pat from Europe”, they must think when I ask them for meetings at three o clock in the afternoon. Maybe I should transfer my working plan into six pm to six am – chewing khat to keep me awake… at least I wouldn’t have anymore during the daytime the problem of being the only one to be awake and alive among my male work colleagues who accompany me on this trip

As much as I try to understand the idea of Ramadan, it doesn’t make much sense to me. I completely agree with fasting, but fasting in a hot and dry country like Somaliland makes people not only dehydrating, but also sleeping the whole day. It robs them off all energy and power and leaves them fainted under thorny trees providing little more than no shadow. But not only does the Ramadan rob off the energy of the people. The main generator, too, seems to be fasting. For three days power supply has been cut down to some few hours a day during daytime, especially in the towns outside Hargeisa. And while I should be working on my lap top by now, typing in the scarce data I managed to get from exhausted, dehydrated head teachers, I am sitting instead on the balcony of the Maansha Allah hotel, in sheikh town, looking around me in search of life. But it is only the flies, which are never tired in flying around and scratching on my skin. Soon nasty mosquitoes will join them.

But, Alhamdullilah, the pointer of my watch is approaching six pm. I can hear the Dolby surround of the muezzin, and together with their relaxing deep voices, life is coming back into the arteries of sheikh. Still people are praying, but soon men will sit around groggy plastic tables, eating tamarind fruits and crunchy samosas and sipping sweat shaa - and of course, sharing a bundle of bitter khat leaves.

Somaliland has never been more peaceful than during these days. Peace, a message that it has been trying to send around the world not only during Ramadan, but also for the last fourteen years. Yesterday, during dinner, a young boy told me: “when you go home, tell everybody how peaceful our country is. Tell people that this is Somaliland and not Somalia”. Inshalla, one day, this spot north west of Somalia will be a recognized state. In the meantime it remains a self declared independent state, sharing with greater Somalia, as Edna Aden, Somaliland’s foreign minister recently pointed out, only one thing: Religion. And at the moment Ramadan.
election campaign in a post war country...

weekend on the beach

After a week of hard work and considering the general hard ship of life in Somaliland, we came to the conclusion that we defenitely deserve some hours of sweet lazinesson the beach. Though I wouldnt call Somalia a dream destination for holidays in the sun, there are some acceptable spots along the coast. Having seen them only on pictures up to now, i was more than keen to visit them on my own. A short glimpse at the map helped agreeing on a destination: Berbera, a coastal town, connected to Hargeisa by a direct road, appreciated by Ethiopia for its port, and known by the Americans for its strategic location at the gulf of Aden, was our first and only choice. Gwen picked me up with the ambulance car of his organisation caled HAlo trust www.halotrust.org Friday eight o clock in the morning. Together we went to pick up Leo, working for AfricaSettanta, Miguel, working for UNDP and Salja, working for NRC (www.nrc.no/engindex.htm). Besides this crowd two guardians joined the trip to the beach as it is the rule. No expat is allowed to leave Hargeisa without two guardians and two Kalaschnikows. Everybody was in a good mood, and so we started our trip in the weekend. The first hour of drive was dedicated by some of us to some more sleep (or meditation?) I myself cant hardly understand how Miguel managed to sleep on the uncosy backbench of the ambulance car (or rather a old landrover defender rearranged as an ambulance car). I didnt manage to catch some sleep - despite being thrown from one side to the other, I was first of all not sleepy and seconly too much interested in the landscape. Some camels here, some goats there - rocky hills and empty rivers - and every now and then a tiny village with a road block. Since people know each other in this small and less populated country, a quick wave by one of our guardians is normally sufficient to have the rope (thats acutally the regular appearance of the roadblocks) removed for us to be able to pass by. Driving over the rope with normal speed would have the same effect, but since they dont ask for bribes we usually stop.
During the drive I came to know that Hargeisa is located at 1500 metres above the sea level - and that the real heat is not there, but along the coast. With every kilometer we drove, the air became hotter and heavier. Stepping out of the car in Berbera felt like diving into a bowle full of jelly. There was some kind of wind, but calling it a breeze would be a mere exaggeration. Besides the hot wind i noticed soon that there were no trees along the beach. Jumping into the water seemed to be the only way to cool down! But the water, too, was hot and little refreshing.
The fact that me and Salja had to wear some trousers and skirts above the Bikini didnt do any improvement to the situation.
However, one hour in the water cooled us at least down to some extent, and created some hunger feelings. Lunch we had in a "seafood restaurant" next to the harbour. Skinny cats and birds were observing our eating progress with open eyes - ready to catch every singly piece of fish or pastas which (unintended) touched the ground.

The drive to the restaurant gave me the opportunity to have a closer look at this town called Berbera. All together i would call it a mixture of a town in the old wild west and a arabic coastal village. Many of the houses are still destroyed from the war. Few people are in the streets during the day - the heat is making most of the population hiding behind thick wooden doors. Only homeless dogs are crossing the streets in small groups. Many of the vessels seem to have been in the harbour for too many years, in the meantime rosted and broken, unable to leave the harbour and too big to be removed. On the way to our hotel we saw a Horpital, located in the middle of an empty field. It looked new, but Salja told us that it is abandoned - no money for staff and equippment.
Has Berbera once been an important coastal town, an important harbour for the entire region? It is still a harbour of a certain importance, but realizing its importance during the daytime (and on a fridays) is quite difficult.

The day on the beach ended with an extended swim session during the night. The stars on the sky were reflected by millions of little phosphorizing sparkles in the water. Every move i did in the water created another thousends of small sparkles. I must confess that I have never ever experienced such magic moments in the water.

Today I tried to find out why and when water is actually phosphorizing. Does anybody know? I hope it is not due to the nuclear rubbish and other kind of rubbish which has been dumped in the sea around Somalia for some many years, in order to fill the pocket of Siad Barre with some additional income :-/

International Literacy Day

As some of you might know, many countries around the world celebrated the International Literacy Day last thursday (I dont blame you for telling me that you either forgot about it heard its name right now for the first time in your life - regarding the abanduncy of international days, decades and weeks dedicated to more or less important issues like literacy, HIV Aids or mother tounges, one might easily get confused).
The literacy day was introduced by UNESCO back in 1966, and has since been celebrated in order to think about the iliterate people whose number still remains high at an estimated 860 Million worldwide. In Somalia, the day was celebrated during the regime of former dictator Siad Barre but has since been forgotten due to the civil war and the chaos which broke out in Somalia afterwards.
This year, however, different international NGO's operating in Somaliland decided to join in again. The day followed two weeks of hard work undertaken to a big extent by Ahmed from the african education trust and myself. As i had to discover one more time, preperations here are done in a completly different way than i am used to. Two days ahead of the celebrations the venue was still not booked, the main speakers were not yet invited and invitations were still waiting in the office for being distributed to different people and organisations.

Despite these major delayes things worked out quite well, people seemed to have fun, and the organisations involved in the day were happy, too (after all it is a well done publicity for their work). There are only two questions still nagging my mind: How effective is such a day and to which extend did we succeed in spreading the message about the importance of literacy across the audience and beyond?

Below a short summary of the happenings:

eight o'clock we met in front of the minstry of education - ready to start marching for a more literate world...

Here we go! girls and boys, women and men, literates and illiterates are walking together to the rhythm of the local police band.

The march was followed by a official ceremony. And to make it not just official, but rather very official, the minister of education addressed some thoughts to the audience. In my eyes we had to many speeches and too less activities. However, since there is not much going on in Hargeisa anyway, people appreciate every single speech, show, or entertainment, no matter how boring it is.

But things didnt end there: Against the slow moving morning program we provided a rather exciting afternoon program: circus, Drama and Distribution of certificates and earned a lot of sympathies for it.

Not only from human beings, but also from the goats which one can find everywere in this town!

And if you want to find out more about the day, dont dare writing me an email - I am currently preparing a summery of the happenings for CARE which I can post you!

updating my social life

Drei wochen bin ich nun schon in Hargeisa. Die erste woche war gefuellt mit neuen eindruecken. Die zweite Woche war bereits etwas ernuechternder: Arbeitsmaessig gab es nicht viel zu tun, und waehrend meine arbeitskollegInnen normalerweise das Buero puenktlich um drei uhr nachmittags verlassen und vor sieben uhr am naechsten morgen nicht wieder auftauchen, verbrachte ich meine nachmittage mit lesen, nachdenken, internet surfen, oder kurzen marktbesuchen. Nicht gerade sehr spannend. Entgegen meiner anfaenglichen ueberzeugung, binnen weniger tage die halbe stadt zu kennen, dauerte es ganze zwei wochen, bis endlich kontakt zu anderen menschen, die hier leben, hergestellt war.

Mittlerweile hat sich die Situation auf einer Skala von null bis zehn mindestens richtung 8 begeben :-) - Risiko Partien auf der Dachterasse, aethiopischer Kaffee am Strassenrand, und Ausfluege in andere Staedte haben meine Laune um einiges gehoben! Hinzu kommt, dass ich mich endlich stolze Besitzerin einer Telesom Sim Karte nenne - nach zwei Wochen warten und unzaehligen vergeblichen Besuchen im Headquarter der Telesom Company! Der Nachteil dieser momentanen guten Laune Phase: fuer webblog updating bleibt leider nicht viel zeit. Als entschaedigung ein paar bilder aus denvergangenen Tagen

Ahmed and the ethiopian coffee... There is no better way to improve the working atmosphere!
Gemeinsam mit Ahmed Abdullahi vom AET (African Education Trust) habe ich die vergangenen Tage von morgends bis zumindest nachmittags an den Vorbereitungen fuer den world literacy day (8. September) gewerkelt. Waehrend der unzaehligen Streifzuege durch die staubigen Strassen Hargeisas in Ahmeds klapprigem Toyota habe ich eine wirklich gute entdeckung gemacht: open Air Cafes, in denen es ausser starkem, suessen aethiopischen Kaffee keine anderen Getraenke gibt. Warum auch? Der Kaffee, der direkt ins Auto serviert wird (man beachte die Tasse in ahmeds rechter hand) ist mehr als ein Genuss!

Gwen, Miguel and Ulrike enjoying the afternoon sun and the good, old risk at Miguels roof terrasse

Aufgrund der Hitze wird in Hargeisa normalerweise zwischen drei und fuenf nicht gearbeitet (oder ist die Verdauung nach dem Mittagessen Grund fuer diese Siesta?). Anlass genug, sich auf die Dachterasse zu begeben und eine Partie Risiko zu spielen. Normalerweise bin ich ja kein grosser Fan von diesem Spiel, aber bei der Fuelle an Freizeitaktivitaeten, die Hargeisa bietet, ueberdenkt man gerne seine Vorlieben...

Fadumo (CARE Somalia) in Boroma - mehr als stolz auf die Tatsache, dass dieses Jahr beinahe gleich viele Maedchen wie Jungen in die erste Klasse eingeschrieben wurden...

Hin und wieder bringt auch ein Ausflug in eine andere Stadt Abwechslung in den Alltag... Gestern besuchte ich gemeinsa mit Fadumo, einer meiner Mitarbeiterinnen, einige Schulen in Boroma. Boroma ist eine Kleinstadt nur wenige Kilometer von der aethiopischen Grenze entfernt. Neben Dollar und Somalischilling kann man in Boroma auch mit aethiopischer Waerhung seine schulden begleichen - erstaunlich, wenn man bedenkt welche Umstaende es vielen Menschen in Europa gekostet hat, "nur" in zwei Waehrungen (etwa Lire und Euro) zu denken... Meine Begeisterung galt allerdings mehr den Schulen als den drei Waehrungen, und nach Gespraechen mit den Direktoren vereinbarte ich, naechste woche zuerueckzukehren.

Grenzland

Boroma liegt, wie bereits erwaehnt, an der Grenze zu Aehtiopien. Im Gegensatz zum Umland Hargeisas gibt es in Boroma Berge, endlose Sorghum Felder und eine atemberaubende Landschaft - waehren der dreistuendigen Fahrt habe ich immer wieder versucht, diese Eindruecke festzuhalten. Das Ergebnis ist nicht gerade sehenswert. Grund: die Strasse war kaum mehr als ein holpriger Feldweg, und den fahrer zu bitten, stehenzubleiben, damit ich ein Foto knipsen kann, war mir irgendwie doch zu bloed. Aber der Ausflug war bestimmt nicht mein bester, und ich werde mich bemuehen, die landschaft in zukunft besser festzuhalten!

af soomaliya

Language is really giving me a hard time here in somaliland.

Up to now i never ever experienced such a big language barrier than i do currently here in this country. Not only do they talk a language which is completely unfamiliar to me. They also talk it in a speed which makes me feel dizzy if i listen too long. Besides fast, the language is loud and has lots of odd sounds. As a result most of the time i am getting the impression that they are fighting and not talking. Some few days ago I must have been looking quite desperate when the woman sitting next to me in the car told me "dont't worry, we are just chatting!" You call this chatting?? Compared to the volume of their voices i expected them in the next minute to start throwing their handbags after each other! The problem with all this is that they not only use this rough and fast way of communicating when talking Somali: they somehow managed to implement it into their english as well, with the result that i am most of the time not getting what they are saying even when talking english.

Regarding these sever language barriers i reached the conclusion that there are only two ways out of this tricky situation:

1. I start talking in the same rough way when talking english (that means in real terms that i just cut off all kind of polite forms, alter my voice and try to use as many odd sounds as possible) That works quite well as long as i talk to people who have at least a small clue of english

2. I start learning somali. Unfortunately the latter is much more difficult to realize than the first one, but, at the same time, much more valuable since only few people know english.

Therefore i decided to give it a try.

In one of the dusty shelves i found some somali school books (big thanks goes to UNESCO who sponsered the books back in 93...). The first book i grasped carried the title "saynis", and dont ask me why, but i thought it might mean "vocablary" or maybe "grammer". As it turned out it was the science book for the first class. What i learned so far? The first thing i realized while staring at the ugly little pictures inside the book was that there are at least three different expressions for adult camels. No wonder in a country which consists mostly of deserts. The second thing i realized was that this is defenitly not the right way to pick up a language. However, due to the italian legacy, I discovered some leanwords which defenitly have italien origins and are therefore easy to keep in mind. Like baasto (=pasta) or boorso (borsa = bag) - the faible for double vowels is undeniable - take for example the following word: caafimaadkeenna. How should i ever get such a word into my long term memory?? The somalis truly hit the record in double vowels!
Arabic leanwords can be traced, too: baakshiish (tip), suck (market), and salam maleikum are just some few examples. And the english guys? Up to now i didnt find many left overs from the english occupiers. At least not when it comes to language. The only similarity i found so far is the word "buugga" (Book). But again this could just be a coincidence!

Anyway, reading old science books might not be the best approach to pick up a language.

Still there is the care staff. Since most (or actually all) of them are Somalis, there are plenty of teachers available. They are all giving it a try, but most of the time i am forgetting the words they are teaching me immediately.

Language language... How easy would the communication be if esperanto would have gotten off the ground! :-)

"it is better to learn than to play (idle around)"

I will keep it in mind... !