CAPE TO CAIRO - 16

Like Africans generally, Somalis are a polite people. My hosts had therefore come up with a special treat for me, their visitor from Germany. There would be a Christmas Party for me in Mogadishu's Sahafi Hotel. I would be able to spend Christmas Eve there with warlords and other foreign nationals and have a lot of fun. After all it is rather depressing to celebrate Christmas all on one's own. As Muslims, Somalis don't observe Christmas, but the birth of the prophet Mohammed in September.

No Christmas atmosphere
It is an opportunity for a family reunion, a sheep or goat is slaughtered -- assuming the family can afford it -- there is a good meal and passages are read from the Koran. Consequently in December there is no Christmas atmosphere on the streets of Somalia. The ramshackle buses lurch from pothole to pothole, the women are carrying their burdens, the men are chewing khat and the children playing their version of ludo.

But without Christmas, it is difficult to have a Christmas celebration! African politeness can be exasperating at times! What was I to do ? In my small hotel that also doubles up as the office for the Stuttgart relief organisation "Diakonie/Brot für die Welt" I find a copy of Max Frisch's classic novel Homo Faber. A fortunate discovery as I have just run out of reading matter. The laptop plays pirated German MP3s.

A tasty Somalian banana
In the end, my friend the minister Abdulfattah Ibrahim Rashid, who lived in Germany for thirty years, comes to my rescue. He joins me in the small hotel (photo right). Sarah the cook rustles up a Christmas meal of fried chicken (with a little imagination it looks just like turkey), salad, French fries. To drink there is fresh melon juice and for dessert a tasty Somalian banana. A lighted candle spreads something close to Christmas cheer, but unfortunately I can only pick away at this delicious meal because my stomach is playing up.

A kingdom for a snowman!
I am also a little depressed that I wasn't able to pick up my Christmas presents. They are in Nairobi's main post office which had already closed by the time I arrived from the Uganda. CNN is reporting attacks in Baghdad, record snow falls in Bavaria. But here in Somalia, a hot breeze is coming in from the Indian Ocean. A kingdom for a snowman! To bed at 10. I have to pack! But this was a pleasant evening.

Christmas Day. I say goodbye to MMK and his staff and goodbye to the bodyguards (photo below). They have raised their fees - in line with inflation. I fly back to Nairobi. The small plane is laden with fresh khat branches from Kenya, the leaves of which are chewed as a stimulant on the Horn of Africa and in parts of the Arab world. Also on the rickety Bluebird: a Somalian family of seven. Nomads are used to the swaying, rocking motion of camels, but not to turbulence. Sick bags are handed round, much to the delight of my unhappy stomach.

"...future is bleak and makes the heart heavy!"
Nairobi appears deserted. All my acquaintances have headed off either to the coast or the national parks. In the hotel bar that evening, the pianist is playing a sad song:

Nehmt Abschied, Brüder, ungewiß
Ist alle Wiederkehr,
Die Zukunft liegt in Finsternis
Und macht das Herz uns schwer

(Farewell, brother. Reunion is uncertain. The future is bleak and that makes the heart heavy)

Thinking of the US terror warnings for Keyna, this acquires an eerie poignancy. New Year's Eve will hopefully be more cheerful!

Mogadishu, 24th December 2003