They say a picture is worth a thousand words. But sometimes even a picture doesn't do a story justice.
I struggled this trip to capture images that convey the mystery and wonder of the "Horn of Africa", but will do my best to make up for that with words. First off, I want you to take the only exposure most of you have with this part of the country, the movie “Black Hawk Down”, and push it into the back of your mind. That is not what this story is about. It’s hard to overcome such an emotionally charged story line when considering travel into a new part of the world, but for this story...
I want you to have an open mind.
We should start with some context, such as what was I doing there? As a self-proclaimed rebellious pilot, I’ve written off most flying jobs that require a uniform or a haircut.
So much for the airlines!
The good news is that the extensive aviation industry has many nooks and crannies for an ugly duckling like myself to make a living. I am part of a team that provides an austere “life flight” type service for hire. It’s the perfect fit for someone who needs a strong dose of adventure in their line of work, as well as the satisfaction of knowing we are providing an important capability. So flying airplanes, in short, is what I was doing in East Africa.
Part of the allure of non-standard aviation is that it often takes pilots to a part of the world they have never been, or would have never visited. This trip falls squarely in the middle of that category. One of the first things I noticed, is that no matter how hostile (real or imagined), uncomfortable (extreme temperatures), or far from your loved ones (FaceTime not included), all sunsets and sunrises are profoundly beautiful.
If I was given the opportunity to live anywhere in the world, with the stipulation that it was near the coast, I would probably say "yes". There is something cathartic about the ocean, the way it is always in motion, sometimes gentle, sometimes violent. Impartial, yet seemingly intelligent. There were days in camp when I would feel claustrophobic, and the only cure was a walk up the sand dunes to look out at the sea.
A unique feature about this coast, was the extremely jagged coral that over time has eroded leaving behind the sharpest, most unfriendly surface I have ever seen. Even with shoes on, when stepping from point to point, I would worry that my soles would be perforated by the knife like pointy tops. I can only imagine some of the early sailors who caught the trade winds west across the Indian Ocean, trying to find a way up on to the shore if they unluckily intersected some of this brutal, naturally occurring border between land and sea.
As with most cities boarding the ocean, fishing is a popular and efficient way to make a living. Without large commercial fishing vessels to stress the local Eco-system, there are plenty of fish to go around. The fisherman expertly navigate small boats along the rugged coast, smartly maneuvering their way though the waves as they enter and exit beaches to move their catch. If I lived here full time, I think I would be a fisherman.
Early on this trip, I had the chance to join the “Mogadishu Surf Club”, by trying to catch a few waves in the Indian Ocean. My surfing skills are amateur at best. I learned to surf years ago when I lived in Santa Cruz, CA. The down-side of catching your first waves at Pleasure Point in Santa Cruz, where the waves are often smooth and predictable, is that when you try to surf anywhere else the waves seems harder and more confusing. Not to mention this part of the world is considered to be a bit “sharky”. I’m glad I got in the water, but this tease of recreation really just made me hunger for a real vacation somewhere I could focus on remembering how to surf again.
Living this close to the equator, you can imagine it gets pretty warm. But being near the coast means most days there is a sea breeze to cool things off (a little). One thing that was different then other places I have visited, is by the time the sun is above the horizon each morning, it has a feeling of being high noon. The rays of heat are considerably more intense than I remember in other parts of the world. Maybe it was just the heat reflecting off the lighter colored sandy earth. Often while flying I would look down at the sandy dunes on the coast, and wish I could land there are go exploring. Timeless landscapes are especially interesting to a wandering pilot.
Destruction and creation, the struggle to survive, is a story played out often for those living in third world countries. Most of us in the first world are sheltered from this experience, sometimes for better, other times for worse. When you are reminded daily of the value of life, you appreciate it more. Some of my daily reminders came from a mother cat living under my porch trying to keep her litter of kittens safe from roaming mongoose, a young plant trying to absorb scarce moisture growing out of a sand dune, or a cement wall that is blasted daily by wind and salt water, we are all just trying to get by.
While looking out at the horizon, I wondered what life was like outside of our secure little bubble. While on WiFi, I would pull up google maps and see pizza places, ice cream shops, and hotels, all just outside our fence, with local reviews and star ratings. Is it really as dangerous as people think out there?
It made me wonder if I got the police report each day from any city in the US, listing just the daily crimes that were committed, if I would also share such an inaccurate view of what life is like for the people who lived there?
Beauty also was seen daily in the wildlife and vegetation around our camp. Butterflies that looked very similar to Monarchs hung from the trees. Beautiful flowers were planted around the property, watered daily with precious water by attentive grounds keepers. No matter how simple or technical a job, most of us were there for the same reason, to make a living.
Due to the power struggle between clans, new government, and the international game of political chess, it shouldn’t be surprising that security is tight and taken seriously in this part of the world. Not unlike America, where most citizens who live in a city lock their doors, or the suburbs where a “white picket fence” around your house is the norm... in urban East Africa, there are a fair-share of security walls and razor wire. Each wall has a story to tell, with its level of erosion lending a clue to its age and the quality it was built with.
At sunset, the hawks and other birds would be out soaring along the sea cliffs, searching for their last meals of the day. It reminded me of how good the paragliding could be if there weren’t so many other hazards around. Birds of prey are always fun to watch fly. They're so much larger than the other local birds. Their talons and beaks are large and sharp enough that even with the naked eye you can appreciate how good they must be at catching fish and rodents.
After the sun went down, I used to look for tracer fire over the city, thinking that sort of thing was normal. Over time, I realized when you look for what you expect to see, you often miss how things actually are. These misconceptions are cured with repetition, and now I don’t look out expecting to see evidence of violence. Spending time in places of the world that are so extremely unfamiliar to us is a great way to re-set our perceptions and biases, and go home with a more open mind about how life is in other parts of the world.
As they say, “distance makes the heart grow fonder”, and I have new family at home that wanted their husband and papa back. It was time to go home. Writing this story from the comfort of my living room, I feel appreciative of work that challenges me to get outside my comfort zone, and bring home a better attitude about life then I left with.
Neil Amonson
FB
IG
Absolute Flight Training
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