SOMALIA

SOLO FEMALE TRAVELER FINDS HERSELF IN MOGADISHU

It is 4:00am in Nairobi, Kenya and I finally have peace and quiet to process my thoughts. As I push my baggage trolley between terminals at Jomo Kenyatta International Airport, I think about how fortunate I am to experience the things I have, but I also wonder if I have a screw loose.  I just arrived from Tripoli, Libya; where I spent three amazing days exploring the beautiful Mediterranean metropolis without having to share “tourist sites” with a single soul.  I was nervous about Libya because of the civil war occurring there, but I was about to take on an equally or maybe even more dangerous country- Somalia. (It probably did not help that I watched Black Hawk Down before I left on this stint of my trip…)

I chose to visit Mogadishu over the safer destination of Somaliland for reasons that are not clear even to myself.  Somaliland is a completely autonomous region that has its own currency and government.  It is much calmer than “proper” Somalia.  Somalia has been riddled by civil war since 1988.  I will not go into details of the various groups vying for control of the capital because frankly it is quite complicated with several key players, including Al-Shabaab (a faction of Al Qaeda).  However, I found an article, published in The Smithsonian, that is quite interesting and provides a brief overview of the ongoing struggle and an interesting prompt on the objectives of fighting terrorism. Check it out here!

I finally arrived in Terminal 2, where I would wait until 10:00 for my flight to take off to Mogadishu.  After making my way through security, I headed straight to the bathroom to put on my Abaya and Hijab.  I would come to learn how kind the Somali people are, but I had my first encounter in the women’s restroom.  I was fumbling with my Hijab, not sure if I was wearing it correctly, when a woman came up to me and asked if I needed help.  We began to talk and I found that she was from Minneapolis and was heading to Mogadishu, as well.  Turns out Minneapolis has the largest Somali population in the United States.  She helped me with my Abaya and told me that I did not need to wear my Hijab until I departed the airplane in Mogadishu.  We exchanged numbers, just in case I needed anything in Mogadishu, and then parted ways.

After checking in for my flight, I headed through another security checkpoint before waiting at my gate.  I waited for several hours and through several unexplained delays before I boarded my flight.  The plane was an old propeller jet, which made me uneasy.  Onboard the plane, it was complete disorder.  There were no assigned seats so people sat where they pleased.  Some seats did not have seatbelts, so I just chose the first seat that had a seatbelt.  It happened to be next to a very large woman who had put up the center armrest and had claimed half my seat as hers.  On top of the lack of space, my baggage did not fit in the overhead container or under the seat in front of me, so the flight attendant told me to just leave it in my lap.  To say this was a cramped flight would be an understatement, but at least I got a seatbelt and the flight was only an hour and a half.

The flight was uneventful.  I found out that I was sitting next to another Minnesotan.  She was returning to visit her family in Mogadishu.  She told me how many educated Somali people were beginning to return to Somalia to help with the revitalization of the country.  This was something I would come to love about the Somali people.  They have been to hell and back in their country, yet they have not given up hope.  Many war torn countries, I have been to, have become exhausted by the fighting and want to go back to the way their country was before the civil war.  Not the Somalis.  They have continued to fight the forces destroying their country in hopes of a better future.

As we approached the Aden Adde International Airport, we flew over the crystal-clear blue waters of the Indian Ocean.  From above, Mogadishu looked like a serene seaside port. 

I held my breath as we landed.  The plane landed after a double bounce and sounding like it was about to rattle apart.  We taxied across the tarmac and came to rest between two UN planes.  When we came to a stop, I slid my Hijab on and walked down the stairs of the plane. I was met with a warm salty sea breeze, which made wearing my Abaya and Hijab bearable in the hot weather.

As I walked into the airport terminal, which consisted of some temporary white tents, I was met by a man who knew my name.  He said he would assist me with the visa process.  I had already received my invitation letter.  I just needed to get my visa sticker.  I made it through immigration rather quickly, met up with another man that would be my driver, and then headed out of the airport.

Outside of the airport, I was met by a silver Toyota 4-Runner with blacked out windows and a small squad of armed security sitting in the back of a pickup truck.  We would first stop at my hotel to get checked in before heading out into the city. 

As we drove to the Jazeera Palace Hotel like bats out of hell, it finally hit me that I was in Mogadishu.  We sped along the crater-ridden road from the airport because stopping for too long could draw unwanted attention.  The locals of Mogadishu know that people being led by security in a tinted 4-Runner are either government members or tourists.  While most people are good in Mogadishu some people are easily persuaded by the terrorist groups.  I had heard of a security team handing over the tourists they were supposed to be protecting because the terrorist offered them more money than the tourists had paid them.

I was kind of uneasy the whole five-minute drive.  It did not help that my driver told me that five mortars had been thrown at my hotel this morning.  My driver reassured me by saying, “Don’t worry they missed though…”. His attempt at reassurance was ineffective and it also left me stunned by his indifference.

Penetrating the hotel’s walls of defense was a complicated task, involving multiple bomb walls, several gates, countless armed guards, and a few phone calls.  After maneuvering through security, we finally made it to a small parking lot at the foot of the Jazeera Palace Hotel.  The parking lot was packed with more blacked-out 4-Runners and pickup trucks with benches built into the back of them.  I filmed a little bit of entering the parking lot before I got yelled at.

I proceeded through more security before entering the courtyard of the hotel.  It was like entering a whole other world.  It was peaceful with people drinking coffee, tea, and fruit juices while they laughed over light-hearted conversation.  My tour guide, Ahmed, was sitting at one of the courtyard tables and approached me as I headed to the front door of the hotel.  I had been in contact with Ahmed on WhatsApp but this was our first time meeting in person.  He helped me check in to my room and then gave me 30 minutes before we would head out into the city.

After taking a very quick shower and putting some important belongings in the safe, I headed back down to lobby.  We departed the Jazeera Palace around 1:30pm.

We made our way back out into the city still driving with a sense of urgency.  The locals seemed to know to get out of the way, as we sped down the street.  Every mile or so there were checkpoints, but we did not have any issues because my driver knew all the guards at each checkpoint.  It was an experience like any other for me; following a truck full of armed men whose sole purpose was to protect me. 

When we finally stopped, we were on the coast.  Ahmed gestured for me to follow him out on a cliff where there were boys fishing and men laying some sort of foul-smelling white fleshy substance out on the rocks.  I had to try and maneuver between the chunks on my way to the edge of the outcrop.

I walked up to the boys to see what they had caught and they proudly showed me their fish.  After admiring the azure waters for a moment, I turned to examine the fleshy substance.  It was shark meat being dried.  Once a few minutes passed, I could not stand the stench anymore, but I was being introduced to tons of local that were interested in the pasty white girl.  My favorite part of traveling is meeting locals, so I fought through the smell.  Ahmed said we had stayed too long, so we headed back towards the car.  I couldn’t help notice all of the trash lining the coastline.  It was a shame to see given the natural beauty of the Somali coastline.

Everyone I had talked to before going to Mogadishu spoke of how strict guides are about tourists getting out and walking around the city.  I was fortunate enough that Ahmed gave me the freedom to walk along the coast to the famous Mogadishu lighthouse.  We walked past the fish market, which was closed for the day.  We would return to visit it the next day.  I meandered down the streets of Mogadishu soaking in the crumbling Italian architecture.  I could only imagine how beautiful it was before all the fighting began.  Part of me wished I could have visited in the 1980s when it was a prime tourist destination. 

I walked for approximately five minutes before Ahmed led me down a steep flight of stairs to Second Lido Beach.  This beach is where all the fishermen bring in their daily catch to sell at the fish market.  All of the boats were tied up when I got down there.  There were teenage boys playing soccer on the beach.  It was great to just soak up the sea air and experience the lives of the locals.  A crowd began to form at the top of the stairs.  As you can imagine, tourists are not too common in Mogadishu so any unknown visitor will cause a seen.  Crowds always made Ahmed nervous so he motioned for me to follow him to the Mogadishu Lighthouse.  I begged him to go in and after some persistence, he finally caved.  The lighthouse was heavily damaged and what used to be a spiral staircase to the top, now had giant caps between the stairs.  Some of the guards began to climb the stairs, using the protruding steel beams as stairs when the concrete was missing.  I proceeded to follow them.  The task turned out to be rather difficult given my Abaya kept getting tangled on the beams.  I tried holding up my Abaya so that I could get some footing, but Ahmed scolded me because I was showing too much leg.  I decided to discontinue my attempt to get to the top.  After I climbed back down, Ahmed made sure I knew I needed to wear full pants under my Abaya tomorrow instead of just shorts.  Woops.

When we exited the lighthouse, the gathering of locals had moved closer and my guards were holding them back.  My guards formed a circle around me and Ahmed ushered me back up the stairs to the 4-Runner that was all ready to go.  We drove past more devastated building, many with hundreds, maybe thousands, of bullet holes in them.  We stopped at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier Memorial also known as Daljirka Dahsoon.  There was a crowd on the square.  I asked what was going on and Ahmed told me that it was Somalia’s National Independence Day (July 1).  Of course, I wanted to go check out the celebration.  At first Ahmed was hesitant, but I was able to persuade him again.  My security team seemed even more nervous than Ahmed.  When I walked up to some locals to shake their hand, my guards seemed to step even closer to me.  I asked if some of the kids wanted to take a picture with me and at first, they were hesitant.  I asked Ahmed to take my picture with the monument in the background and eventually some of the children started to sneak into my picture.  It was not long until they were handing me Somali flags and I was a part of the celebration.  We took some selfies and a group picture.  The teenagers used the opportunity to practice their English with me.  These are the moments I live for while traveling.  As the group swarmed around me, my guards were getting noticeably more nervous.  We decided it was time to leave.  I could have spent all day talking to those kids.

When we hopped back into the 4-Runner, I was so giddy from the experience.  It was truly amazing.  I thanked Ahmed for letting me get out of the car probably ten times.  We then headed down the road to Lido Beach.  Lido Beach is the infamous beach where Al Shabaab killed 20 people in an attack on a beachfront restaurant in 2016.  When I arrived there, it was like any other beach.  People were swimming and playing in the sand.  There were dozens of boats on the beach decorated in Somali flags.  We were approached by a man in a suit who offered to take me out on the boat.  Ahmed asked if I wanted to.  Of course I did!  That was quite an interesting experience because my security team had to come with me, so Ahmed and I sat in the front row and there was my security team sitting in the back of the boat.  We drove around on the water for about fifteen minutes, admiring the clear water.  I was surprised how many people were out scuba diving in the waters. 

We headed back to shore and went straight into a restaurant where we sat and had coffee on the roof.  It was nice to soak in the salty sea air, enjoy some coffee, and learn more about Somalia.  When we had finished our coffee, we hopped back in the SUV because we had to head back to the hotel before dark.  We took a detour through the neighborhoods of Mogadishu.  It was devastating to see the state of the city.  Paved roads were almost non-existent, buildings were crumbling, and piles of trash were everywhere on the street.  But it continues to amaze me how adaptable people are.  Children played soccer in the streets while parents sat on the side of the roads laughing away.  It makes you realize how little you actually need to be happy.  It is all about how you handle your circumstances.

The rest of my night was uneventful.  When I got back to the hotel, I ate dinner and sat in the courtyard for a bit.  It turns out the Jazeera Palace Hotel is where all the government officials go to unwind because it is one of the only secure buildings in the city.  There seemed to be a lot of important people at the hotel.  I turned in around 8:00pm because I had a early and full day the next day.  I never could imagine what would be in store the next day.

The next morning, I awoke around 7:00am and headed down to breakfast.  While I was eating breakfast, a man walked up to me and introduced himself.  His name was Abdi.  He asked if he could sit and join me for breakfast.  I said, “Of course!” 

He asked me where I was from and I told him I am from the United States.  He then asked me what I was doing in Mogadishu.  He seemed very surprised and excited when I told him I was there completing the mission of Peace Stamps and on tourism.  It turns out he was a member of the Somali Parliament.  You can read more about his election to the parliament here.

As I was talking to Abdi, Ahmed walks into the dining area of the hotel to see if I was ready to go.  He seems taken aback when he sees who I am talking to.  Abdi introduces himself to Ahmed and explains that he would like to record a video about tourism returning to Somalia with me.  Ahmed seems to think it is a great idea!  So, Abdi and I head out into the courtyard and make a tourism video.  You can see it below:

After we have finished recording the video, Abdi pulls Ahmed aside and they talk for a while.  After they are finished talking, Ahmed asks me if I would like to do what he had originally planned for the day or if I would like to go share the mission of Peace Stamps with the Ministry of Tourism.  I obviously decided the latter. 

Abdi hopped into the car with Ahmed and I and we headed to the Ministry of Tourism.  On the way there, Abdi made us take a detour and we stopped at the Ministry of Education.  I was able to meet the Minister of Education and he enlightened me on the efforts they were working towards in Somalia.  The main objective was to encourage the educated Somalis, that fled at the beginning of the civil war, to return to their home country.  They also listened to my mission behind Peace Stamps.  It was an awesome experience!

We finished up our meeting with the Ministry of Education and went separate ways with plans to meet at the Ministry of Tourism in a few hours.

Ahmed took me to the fish market, which was now open.  I am glad that I visited the fish market, but it was quite gory.  There are no refrigerators and no ice so the stench is strong and there are fish blood and guts all over the place.  I had to pick up my Abaya (which I wore pants under today) to ensure it did not get covered in fish insides.  I included some pictures, but view them at your own risk because they are kind of gross.


We continued through the fish market and out the back door towards the beach we had visited the prior day.  This time we arrived at the perfect time to watch the fishermen haul in their catch.  I tried to take pictures, but this time there were police officers who began to yell at me.  Ahmed sternly told me to put my camera away.  Ahmed and the guards talked to the police and seemed to calm them down, but they told me we had to go.

We headed to the largest shopping mall in Mogadishu so that I could buy a skirt for my mission project in Uganda. On the way to the shopping mall, we drove through the intersection where the first Black Hawk went down. I asked if we could stop here too, but Ahmed was adamant about not stopping this time. However, we did get to stop at the market where a lot of the fighting occurred. Ahmed rushed me through this market because it was a prime location for terrorist attacks.

When we arrived at the mall, I found a skirt and then we sat and had coffee at a shop at the entrance of the mall.  Once again, it was great to just sit and soak in the lives of the locals.  Ahmed reminded me of how rare it is that locals can just sit and enjoy a cup of coffee in peace.  I was definitely grateful for the experience.

It was time for us to reunite with Abdi.  We picked him up from the Ministry of Education and headed to the Ministry of Tourism. 

We drove to the Ministry of Tourism and when we arrived, I realized it shared a campus with the Somali National Television and Radio Station.  Abdi introduced me to the Minister of Tourism and then gave me a tour of the Radio Station.  It was then that the producer decided that he wanted to do a special on tourism returning to Somalia.  They recorded me talking to the Minister of Tourism.  They recorded me in the Radio studio.  We then traveled to the Peace Park in Mogadishu.  Abdi and I walked through the gardens of the Peace Park as the cameraman recorded our conversation.  The Peace Park was nice because no guns are allowed in there.  My security team had to stay outside the gates.

As our conversation was coming to an end, we sat down outside of a fast food joint that was inside the park and Abdi invited some teenage boys over to talk to me.  They all were excited to practice their English and one of the boys bought me chicken nuggets.  Boy sure knows the way to a girl’s heart!

After our time at the Peace Park, we made one final stop at the last “standing” Cathedral.  It was directly across from the Mayor of Mogadishu’s house and inside his compound so we had to get special permission to enter.  We eventually did gain permission.  The Cathedral was beautiful and truly remarkable.  I was able to explore the cathedral for an hour or so before the sun began to set and it was time to return to the hotel.

My second day in Mogadishu was more than I ever could have asked for.  It was truly an incredible and unexpected experience.

Abdi invited me to have dinner with his friends and him in the courtyard that night.  They joked with me when I arrived to dinner sans Hijab.  I did not have to wear a Hijab inside the walls of the hotel.  We enjoyed watermelon juice and watermelon for dinner.  It was definitely an interesting dinner but I was full from my camel stew I had for lunch. 

Abdi and his friends were quite funny and I enjoyed the time I got to spend with them.

 I headed to bed because I had to be up early to fly to Uganda the next day.

Somalia provided me with so many memorable moments and will forever be in my heart. I hope to one day return to Somalia when it has been restored and the people are thriving.