HOPE

I'm sitting at work and feeling a bit bored so I just wrote this poem in the last 5 minutes. Its basically about hope- what is being hoped for is for the reader to fill in, whether peace in times of war, love in times of loneliness etc etc. I don't share much poetry so hope you like it (no pun intended).

HOPE

Hope is being in a desert,

Not lost but not sure

exactly where you are.

Clothes are tattered,

eyes are sandy,

mouth is dry,

all is yellow.

You feel hazy,

with limbs weak and fragile.

You push forward with all your energy

to take one step forward,

but its futile.

Its as if you move backwards

making no progress.

All energy has long faded away.

You become frustrated

and grab at your hair,

curse the ground

and hope to die.

Soon.

Your eyes are closed,

it feels easy to leave them shut

and you think there is no use

to expend such energy

when nothing lies ahead.

Losing hope with every failed step.

Suddenly a breeze pushes by you,

slightly cool, inspiring, alive.

And you remember why you're pushing forward.

An oasis lies just ahead,

lush with greens and deep blue water.
Water.

You can already taste it cooling your dry mouth

just from hope,
based in belief.

Your head rises up

and you force your eyes open.

Squinting, you outstretch your right leg

taking one step closer.
Still unsure where it leads
but knowing there is something better.

Closer to fulfillment and the future.

Closer to life.

Thinking Critically

A friend of mine is doing a PhD with a concentration in critical theory. This morning we spoke on the phone and she began telling me all about what she's studying. I'd never been exposed to critical theory until she defined it for me. She said critical theory is essentially the critical study and deconstruction of accepted ideas and beliefs in a society. Looking at where basic beliefs like religion, secularism, tolerance etc stem from, one can better understand how firm these ideas truly are. As it turns out, many concepts that we hold dearly can be challenged by a critical assessment. Tolerance, for example, seems like a valuable concept in pluralistic societies; we all want to get along no matter our differences. A critical theorist, however, could look at tolerance more critically as a mechanism to maintain an unequal power balance through superficial acceptance of a status quo. Why shouldn't a minority group be given equal rights and opportunities as the majority group, rather than just be tolerated?

I find tremendous value in critical theory. The problem is that there is no beginning or end to the project. In any assessment by a critical theorist, their assessment itself can be deconstructed with numerous arguments against their basic premises. Nevertheless there is value and learning gained from the process.

Some might think, when looking at the case of Somalia, it is a luxury to be analyzing critically the foundations on which much of our premises lie. I for one find it essential. For example- why are we trying so hard to establish a central government? Is it really the case that this is the best political route for the country? And even if this is the case, are the Somali people willing to accept that? Somalia hasn't moved forward in years as a rushed game of politicking has been taking place. Perhaps what is best now is for the players, domestic and international, to critically assess why it is they believe in the current process.

Parliament - an obstacle to peace?

It appears Somalia's parliament is poised to extend its term for another 2 or 3 more years. This comes shortly after IGAD announced its support of an extension. This IGAD announcement is being used as an excuse by MPs to show that the "international community" supports a transition, when in reality the IGAD announcement essentially reflects Ethiopian policy. Nevertheless, since parliament looks like its going to stick around a while longer, how can the Somali political process be moved forward? Clearly an amendment to the Charter is needed to avoid any future unilateral extensions, but as for today, how can parliament be held accountable to be a more productive force and make the necessary changes? This is the question I'm asking myself and I wonder if its structurally possible. Perhaps Parliament by its nature, especially in the current political configuration, is designed to be a corrupt obstacle to peace.

Nevertheless, there are some bright spots in parliament, some MPs who are in favor of reform. These are the actors that should be supported and they themselves need to do a better job of reaching out to the Somali people.

A new cabinet, a new hope?

Somalia now has a new and largely diaspora cabinet, with 7 Americans, including the prime minister. This is exciting for a lot of people because it represents a departure from business as usual. The same corrupt faces who have made a living off of Somali politics have been deprived- at least in name- of the powers associated with being ministers. Of course that still leaves the bloated parliament with its many unsavory characters in the mix. Whether the current transitional federal government accomplishes anything in the next eight months, which is the duration of their mandate, depends partly on whether parliament will cooperate- unlikely- and whether the international community will provide them with the necessary support- also unlikely. The bright spot in all of this is that hopefully more diaspora and non-diaspora Somalis who have not made careers off of politicking will feel more comfortable stepping forward with new ideas. Because if anything is clear regarding the Somalia debacle, its that fresh ideas and fresh faces are desperately needed.

A uniquely Somali love story- Part 2

After weeks of traveling and having his bag stolen from right under him as he slept, Hussein decided to stop for a few days in a border town where Ethiopia, Somalia and Kenya meet. The town was bustling with commerce and trade between the neighboring nations, and he was able to find work with a local export company. The pay was not significant enough for him to consider settling, and so in a few months he was on a bus heading down to Nairobi.

As Hussein recounted his story to me, I noticed a sudden change in his tone and emotion when he described the arrival in Kenya- as if this was the part of the story he was waiting to get to. As if the earlier parts of his story were long, painful and tedious, and he'd rather not dwell on it.

With newfound excitement, he described his arrival in Eastleigh, the Somali district in Nairobi, as a joyous sort of homecoming. Many of his friends and family had settled there, and so after months of lonely and unpredictable travel, he suddenly had the warmth and hospitality of those he knew and loved. Just moments after getting off the bus in Eastleigh, he ran into two friends from his childhood in Somalia. They immediately offered to host him until he located relatives and other friends. Suddenly, for the first time in months, he had a warm bed to sleep on and did not have to worry about whether he could afford to stay another night. Shortly after arriving in Eastleigh, Hussein was offered a job at a friends store. Hussein created a life for himself in Eastleigh, eventually finding a better job as an english teacher in a secondary school; a job that gave him room and board.

Two years later, on what was seemingly a typical day, a friend of Hussein's told him he heard that someone he might know what in town. "Who?" Hussein asked, not expecting what he was about to hear. The friend told him Hawa, Husseins old high school sweetheart from his hometown in somalia, was in Nairobi. Hawa and Hussein were once in love and speaking of marriage and a family when the civil war suddenly erupted, pushing them to different corners of the globe. That afternoon Hussein discovered that Hawa had gone to the United States and began working as a nurse. Hussein was proud of her for escaping the difficulties back home, but he also felt saddened to think that surely, after so long, she is already married. Even he had been briefly married until the suddent and tragic death of his young wife. 

The friend offered to call Hawa and set up a chance for the two to meet. To Husseins surprise, she agreed and the two planned to meet downtown to "catch up" on life. As Hussein describes it, it wasnt long into their conversation when they both mentioned they were single, and something clearly clicked for the two. They had a mutual feeling that this was meant to be, and that the unlikely chance of finding each other, during her brief visit to Nairobi, actually occurred.

The rest, as they say, is history. They had a huge wedding celebration in Nairobi, moved to the U.S., and the two recently had their first child, a baby girl.

A uniquely Somali love story - Part 1

The life stories of Somali refugees are the most complicated, tragic, but hopeful stories you'll ever come across. I've heard Somalis describe just about every route possible in their journey to the U.S., and the risk and ingenuity involved is astounding. I've never come across a Somali family that didn't have stops in at least one or two countries, some stopping in as many as four or five nations, before reaching their destination in the U.S. or elsewhere.

But today I heard a story unlike the others in that it was one that had a highly improbably and lovely twist at the end. I met a man named Hussein who lives in Virginia. He came to the U.S. at the start of this year, so he's still adjusting to life here. The other day he asked me what daylight savings was, and I had a surprisingly hard time trying to explain it. Hussein is a really smart man, tall, very thin and attractive. He has a very calm and peaceful demeanor about him, so much so that you'd never guess the struggles he's had to overcome.

In 1990, the situation in Somalia deteriorated dramatically, and Hussein began working for the U.N. as an interpreter. The UNISOM mission moved in and didnt leave until 1995. He worked closely with a Malaysian UN commander and the two developed a close friendship. Before the UN pulled out (having failed to create peace) the commander encouraged Hussein to leave Somalia for Djibouti, and promised that his brother-in-law at the Malaysian Embassy in Djibouti would give him a visa to Malaysia. The Commander even hand wrote a letter in the Malaysian language and encouraged Hussein to give that letter to his brother-in-law, just to ensure confidence.

Hussein was unsure whether he wanted to make the journey to Djibouti so he just held on the the visa recommendation letter. When the U.N. completely pulled out of Somalia, Hussain was jobless and struggled to make ends meet. That's when he spoke with his family and told them he was going to make the trek to Djibouti and would hopefully reach Malaysia to find work. With their blessing, he traveled alone into Ethiopia and through to Djbouti. All he had on him was a few changes of clothing, $600 and the letter for the Malaysian embassy. In Djibouti, he spent nearly a hundred dollars on his first day just on food and a hotel room. He was down to $500. The next morning he rushed to the Malaysian embassy to seek the visa. After being turned away, he complained and eventually managed to get in and see the Commander's brother-in-law. The man said Hussein could get a visa, but that it would take three months and cost $400 dollars.

This was a huge blow to Hussein. He couldn't afford to wait three months especially since the cost of living in the city was so high. To top it all off, the Djiboutians- although they are ethnically Somali- were hostile to mainland Somalis, so he didn't expect to find a job. He spent that day and night thinking about whether he could wait, asking around for jobs, and thinking about how he could pay for all the costs associated with this prized visa. After drawing the conclusion that he couldn't stay, he got rid of his hopes of moving to Malaysia and caught the first bus out of town. He traveled through Ethiopia to its border with Somalia and Kenya. En route to the town, he slept on a train, using his only travel bag as a pillow. When he woke up at his destination, he discovered he had the bag stolen from right under him. And so he lost all his belongings except the cash he had strapped to his body. By this point he had $300 on him, and said he felt more alone and vulnerable than ever.

(See part 2)

Psychology in War

I was speaking with a recent refugee from Somalia today. Its so facinating when I speak with new refugees because I sense that I immediately give them full credibility over all things Somalia related, an unwise tendency of mine. Everyone (including myself) who looks at the situation from the outside doesnt get it, we're just working with secondhand information and a lot of guesswork. But the new refugees, now they surely understand the situation best. Of course this is not always the case, but I still love asking questions about what life is like in Somalia today whenever I meet someone who recently left the country.

 

Today I met a woman who left Somalia three years ago, and my conversation with her was so facinating. She had a scary way of describing the mental condition of Somalis today. She said that in 1990 just as the war broke out, the people were afraid and struggled to make a living. When things did not get better and conflict spread in the mid ninety's, there was a lot of mental disorders taking hold, people unable to cope with the drastic change in their surroundings and the instability.

Today, however, she says people are so used to the violence "you can even find people who don't look twice when they see a dead body, its become a normal thing." She said this so matter-of-factly that it made it all the more scary.

Her tragic description makes me want to look into the psychological impacts of this war more deeply. I'm wondering what type of government or leader can take hold of power in an environment so prone to conflict, and a population so used to it. What are the psychological factors that governance needs to take into account?