At the end of my week here I reflect on what was it like travelling through Somaliland. Did I feel safe here? Well, yes and no. Armed guards always tip the odds in your favour of course. I felt safe in the capitol, Hargeisa, much less so in the rural back blocks of Berbera where there was a distinctly hostile xenophobic vibe.
Overall the country is quite barren and dry and the cities and towns are pretty basic African meets Middle East affairs, poor and run down. Infrastructure is basic but there are some impressive buildings built with foreign aid. Education and health care all costs the Somali money with no real government subsidy.
For the tourists, hotels could best be described as spartan. Service everywhere happens at snails pace. Somali cuisine is unspectacular consisting of spice rubbed grilled meat, fish and rice. Interetingly the influence is Middle Eastern with quite a hit of cardamom as a spice.Of course there is no alcohol.
Infrastructre wise this is a newly developed country having to rebuild after most buidings having been razed by war and then rebuilt. All is low rise here. The roads even in the heart of town are geerally dirt and potholed and the traffic is frequently at a standstill.
Most of people are genuinely friendly and interested in the,for them, stange sight of white skinned humans in their midst.Having said that there are a few who go out of their way to be difficult. THe females in our group where sometimes chided for some perceived breach of the local dress codes despite them covering up and wearing hijabs. Similarly, as I have experienced in other Muslim societies photography can be a real issue. There are frequent times when after having a chat with someone I ask if I can photograph them or their wares, Having gained their permisiion there is always some unrelated (usually male) bystander who tries to come over the top bullying both me and the pliant local preventing the photograph. At its worst here in the market a young lady engaged me and took me through the meat hall to her families stand. I made small talk with the man running that counter and eventually asked if I could take a picture of his meat stand (excluding both him and the girl who had moved to one side. I had no sooner finished the photo when I saw out of the corner of my eye a guy from a stall further up and well away yelling and brandishing a butcher’s knife threatening to throw it at me. Scary stuff and I high tailed it out of there.
This was an interesting trip to an area that is shunned by tourists due to decades of ongoing civil war.While it is bereft of any “big ticket” natural attractions. It affords an interesting insight of a resourceful and resilient populace determined to carve out a modern coherent society rebuilding from the devastation of war. These people are proudly succeeding.
