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NGONGE

A Week In Somaliland!

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NGONGE   

I had two and a half days left. If I were going to make it to Burco, it had to be a day’s visit. That is why I woke up extremely early the following day and was ready for my cousins to come and pick me up.

 

At eight in the morning, someone arrived and drove me to my aunt’s house. At eleven in the morning, my companions came and we got in the car to drive to Burco! We had to stop at several different places to buy some qaat (for the people of Burco), drinks for the journey and fill the tank with petrol. We left H town at twelve.

 

We drove to Berbera, had lunch and my companions lazed about or dragged their feet. I was starting to get frustrated but had no choice but to keep my mouth shut. Like a dog on a leash, I had to quietly follow and hope that we will get to our final destination with time enough to have a good look at the city and visit a few relatives there. We left Berbera an hour later (with my opinion of that city not changing that much).

 

The road from Berbera to Burco was not that much better than the one from H town to Berbera. I had my window open and was busy watching the scenery when something suddenly hit me on the face. I thought it was a fly. Something else hit me on the face. Then another and another! I looked at the driver and the road ahead. Hundreds upon hundreds of locusts were dying on the windscreen. I hastily closed my window, listened to the shouts of my fellow passengers and wondered when we’ll be hit by the other nine plagues of Egypt.

 

We drove on and, unlike my earlier journey with my tourist guide, I was more worried this time whenever I saw a wild animal crossing the road. There were monkeys, hogs, camels, tortoises, deer, rabbits and even a jackal. Wild animals too were part of the plagues of Egypt. I had a strong urge to check on my first-born.

 

 

One of my fellow backseat passengers wanted to use the toilet and asked the driver to stop. The driver took his time and finally stopped a few minutes later. The passenger ran out into the woods and commenced to relieve himself. I got out and stretched my legs.

 

Suddenly, I heard someone loudly shouting about the private parts of mothers! I looked around to where the sound was coming from but did not see anyone. It was a hoarse, gruff sound and it repeated the insult again. I looked once more and noticed a short, frail nomad sitting under a tree and screaming all manner of obscenities at me! Naturally, I had to approach him and see what the fuss was all about.

 

He stood up as he saw me approaching and puffed his tiny chest out. He carried on swearing at me. I asked him what was upsetting him and he continued his profanities against my mother. I was not angry or upset. The whole scene was surreal and very bemusing. I had to raise my voice and ask him, in my very inimitable Somali, what his problem was. By now, I had concluded that he was a mad man and was only asking him these questions to amuse myself.

 

The driver and the other two passengers in our car got out and started asking him the same question. He got even louder and started telling us not to take photos of him! None of us was carrying a camera but this fact did not stop him from suspecting that we were about take a picture of him. I foolishly used my tourist guide’s favourite line in such situations, and shouted ‘who in the world would be interested in your ugly face!’ He returned to insulting my mother, took his kitchen knife out of its holster and started waving it in the air.

 

Though I was worried for a second there, I could not help smiling at this crazy scene. This short skeleton in a macawis, was brandishing a knife and promising to cut me to pieces, and there I was foolishly smiling in his face! I tried to placate him by telling him to calm down and that nobody is going to take his photo. He mistook it for fear and raised his voice and swished his knife around in a cutting motion. He was at least five meters away from me and a straight look in his eyes told me that he was scared out of his skin. But he kept up the pretence and carried on talking about what he will do to my poor mother. I calmly advised him to put the knife down if he did not want me to shove the tree behind him up his nether parts. Amusingly, he attempted to argue the mechanics and practicalities of such an act!

 

Our fellow passenger that was relieving himself heard the commotion from behind his bush and shouted a question. The others told him what was going on. He started swearing whilst relieving himself and promising to perform all manner of degrading acts on the nomad. The scene was getting more comical by the second.

 

The mad nomad kept a steady barrage of swear words heading my way (no idea why just me) and kept on brandishing his knife in the air. I took a step forward. He took a step back. I smiled. He swore some more and took two steps forward. Our driver ran away. The urinating passenger was limping on one foot and trying to put his trousers back on again as he carried on with his insults against the nomad. The nomad took a couple of steps back and picked up a stone! I laughed. He swore.

 

The urinating man picked up a rock and was menacingly walking towards the nomad. I saw fear, worry and terror. I told my fellow passenger to leave the poor man alone. In the meantime, our driver, in an attempt to hide his temporary cowardice and pretend that his current action was what he was planning all along, had turned the car around and was shouting through the window that he was going to run the nomad down! I laughed some more and asked him to leave the poor man alone. I told my companions that if they thought this nomad was mad they should let him be and not be as crazy as he was. I apologised to the nomad and told him that we will go on our way now. The rascal answered me with a final well chosen and vulgar greeting to my mother. We drove away.

 

The rest of the journey was dull and the scenery, though beautiful, hardly changed. I was starting to get bored and wanted to get to Burco (or any city) as soon as was humanly possible. I sat back on my seat, closed my eyes and readied for a short nap. I have no idea how long I was out for, but, when I woke up, we were ascending a crazy mountain! I was told that this was the famous Sheikh Mountain.

 

The drive up was quite an experience. The road itself was not that bad and was mostly in a very good condition; well, apart from the odd pothole here and there. But the way it was constructed is a marvel of engineering and it reminded me of the UAE’s Hafeet Mountain. The difference here of course, is that the way up is also the way down. And with the many unexpected bends, curves and straights, the driver has to be alert at all times and in full control of the car. This road was not for novices.

 

When we were halfway through, we stopped on the side of the road to have a look at the green wilderness below. The view also took in the squiggly road and the way it twirls around the mountain like a garbasaar on a warm bosom. It was breathtaking and it gave me vertigo.

 

We zigzagged our way up the mountain and reached Sheikh village. We carried on driving until one of the passengers alerted me to the fact that we were entering Burco! It was still daylight (just) and I had a good look at the city as we drove in.

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Originally posted by NGONGE:

At eight in the morning, someone arrived and drove me to my aunt’s house. At eleven in the morning, my companions came and we got in the car to drive to Burco! We had to stop at several different places to buy some qaat (for the people of Burco), drinks for the journey and fill the tank with petrol. We left H town at twelve.

LoL...sounds about right! :D

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STOIC   

When we were halfway through, we stopped on the side of the road to have a look at the green wilderness below. The view also took in the squiggly road and the way it twirls around the mountain like a garbasaar on a warm bosom. It was breathtaking and it gave me
vertigo
.

Since I'm Sakhajaan, I had to laugh at this line (plus I just had a whole lecture about the physiology of Vertigo-I liked how you used it here)....Are you sure Ngonge you haven't taken any medical Neurology classes, I have seen you use medical terms before :cool:

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NGONGE   

^^ I did a first aid course last year. Will that do? :D

 

As for your early question about the politics of Somaliland and what I thought about it. I was hoping to say that right at the end, saaxib. At any rate, there isn't much I could say from one week's stay (but say I shall).

 

ps

Blessed, it wasn't five minutes. icon_razz.gif (wait for it).

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Ms DD   

Dadka waalan wey ku badan yihiin wadankii.

 

So buying Jaad as a gift happens. Thanks for that. It may save me money. But did you only buy gifts for the men?

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NGONGE   

^^ I did not. The people I was with bought the qaat for those in Burco. It turns out that the H town qaat is different to the Burco qaat and that's why they took some with them.

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Ms DD   

War ninyahow..you dont admit to your miserness lol

You say..yeah..i bought this and that and the lot

 

But you mention interesting fact here..Why is the H town jaadkiisa better than those of Burco? Ever had the pleasure?

 

Fufu

lol Maybe I should get them Channel lightening creams..Teach them a classier product

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NGONGE   

^^ Wait for it. All shall be revealed.

But I did not buy any qaat because I had no idea if the people I was going to see liked the stuff or not (not everybody chews in that place you know). :D

 

The H town qaat is of a different kind to that sold in Burco. nuune will tell you the names.

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