A Spectacle in Somaliland — The Sleepy Cheese

You won’t find a safari in Hargeisa, the capital of Somaliland, and you won’t get cute photos in safari hats with giraffes. What you will find is a country on the cusp of legitimacy with a frenetic energy and ancient cave paintings. This country certainly isn’t a tourist hot spot, so why go?

Well, the answer isn’t really straightforward. My comrades in travel, Mike and Martha, and I both have the goal of visiting every country eventually, and one hundred countries by the time we are forty. Which means you have to visit some, let’s say, off the beaten path type places. We’ve been to Somalia, spending a little time in Mogadishu four years ago. That checked off Somalia, and technically checked off Somaliland –a de-facto independent state that split from Somalia at the beginning of their civil war in 1988. Since then, it’s done its own thing. They have their own currency, government, and visa, everything you would expect a bona-fide country to have. Everything except official international recognition, that is. The international community seems to support their autonomous status, especially since it’s really the only part of the country that has its shit together, but has no interest in recognizing it. As it is now, the world seems content to let Somalia limp along; a smoldering underground fire no-one can put out, and happy as long as it doesn’t spread to its neighbors. So, Somalia remains a hot bed of terrorism with various tribes competing for territory and resisting centralized authority. It’s dangerous. Really dangerous. While Somaliland, on the other hand, is by most accounts pretty safe, and tourism there is not unheard of. It very well may be recognized at some point as an independent country, so when Mike suggested adding the capital, Hargeisa, to the list on this trip, Tara and I were along for the ride.

You have to get your visa ahead of time for Somaliland as they did away with visa on arrival. We had mailed our passports off to the consulate, and after calling to enquire on the status of our applications, received not an email confirmation but a late night text from an unknown number. It said they had received our forms and payment, but to text another number the next day to follow up. Late night texting from an embassy isn’t something I was accustomed to, but sure enough we got our passports - signed, stamped - back in a week.

The arrival terminal was quite orderly, as were the security checks. We somehow walked through the entry process without paying a $100 arrival fee, but we all agreed we contributed enough money to the local economy as to not feel bad about it. Our guide – whose name we were never quite sure of despite asking many times – met us in the courtyard outside the airport and took us to our hotel. The drive was both sobering and comforting. It’s very much a developing country with rubble and garbage lining the streets, but there were certainly signs of progress. Small office towers have sprouted up, there were plenty of thriving markets, and signs and billboards advertising various services were everywhere. Oh, and coca cola signs. You could go to the ends of the earth and still find an ad for coca cola. Camels can be seen roaming alleyways, and goats and donkeys are all over the streets. There are sights, sounds, and smells -oh, the smells- that will paint a rich picture within just a few minutes of leaving the airport. It’s close to total chaos and pretty overwhelming, but it’s also fascinating. One of our favorite things about Mogadishu was the way various small shops would paint what they were selling - or service being offered - on the outside of the building (don’t dwell on the reason why - because most people there were illiterate due to decades of war). Despite not wanting to identify with Somalia, they do share this quirk and it’s equally charming here as well:

I’ll have the fish please, hold the travelors diarrhea.

We weaved through the labyrinthine streets and came close to stopping as was essentially a shanty with a hotel sign flashing, and briefly thought we were really in for a rough stay, but then traffic cleared and we ended up at a nice hotel with most of amenities you would expect from a western style chain.

Cars drive on the right here, but most of the vehicles are left sided - so buses drop people off INTO traffic. Our driver said this is because they are cheaper to buy and import.

Our guide took us out to change money at the market – 80 U.S. dollars was 700k of local currency which made for some great photos – and we stopped and snapped some pics of the Independence monument. It’s a Russian-made MIG fighter that was shot down in Hargeisa during the civil war, something they are quite proud of. The area around the monument was packed with people at leisure, and a few came over to say hello. Now, if this had happened just a couple days ago in Addis Ababa, it would have been a scam or pickpocket attempt. And if we had done something like this in Mogadishu…well, we wouldn’t have done something like this there. It was/is too damn dangerous. But here, while it was a little nerve wracking being the center of attention for some many people, they seemed nice and just wanted to chat. Our guide just waved to us from the SUV, and if he seemed fine with everything I guess we had to trust him.

Changing from USD to Somaliland shillings leaves you with literal fat stacks. 80 bucks = 700,000k

Our first full day was a long one, but definitely a highlight of the trip. We headed out bright and early to see the Laas Geel cave paintings. About an hour and a half outside of the city, over sometimes bumpy and washed-out roads, these paintings date between 9 and 3 thousand years B.C. They are a national treasure, and clearly protected/maintained very well. Set into the side of a couple of rocky hills, they have been isolated from the elements and unchanged for thousands of years. It’s impossible not to be impressed by them. It’s eight kilometers from the main (mostly) paved road to the site. It’s a harsh landscape, but one that many families can be seen living in, sheltered in huts made of layers of discarding tarps and clothing. Our guides stopped along the path and handed out biscuits to kids along the way. It was a kindness they didn’t have to do, and one you don’t see in a lot of places where everyday life is this difficult. After filling up our memory cards with photos, we head out to the beach town of Berbera for lunch.

Our guide handing out food to the neighborhood kids.

Bear in mind, we were not just tooling around the country all nimbly-bimbly, we had an armed police officer with us the entire time. He was, along with our travel documents, the only reason we could be out traveling the way we did. There were probably half a dozen checkpoints we were stopped at, both out and back. We always felt safe, but a guard with a machine gun tends to help one feel that way.

Berbeba is a bit of a sleepy beach town, with fishing the main industry, though it was for many years the capital of British Somaliland. It sits on the Gulf of Aden directly across from Yemen, and we stopped and had lunch on the water. The view wasn’t exactly awe-inspiring, but the fish was pretty damn good.

Martha snapped this pic of Tara admiring the view from our lunch spot.

Here’s me looking at a dirty cat, probably.

Afterwards we drove to the beach and took some photos. It was packed with people and cars, and as expected, we were more than a bit of a spectacle. My tattoos always seem to be a hit, as does Tara’s and Martha’s fair skin. After chatting a bit and snapping some photos, we headed back that evening to the hotel.

Our final morning had us touring the local camel market, which was a total surprise. I felt like he took us there to show us off as much as to show us the camels, but that felt ok. If I thought we were a spectacle the day before at the beach, well, we were like pop stars here. Now I know how Beyonce feels when she goes out. Ok, maybe that’s a bit of an exaggeration, but only just barely. We walked through the market, gaining a pretty good sized following of people tagging along behind us. Mostly kids, but plenty of curious adults as well. Tara and Martha got to walk a camel around a bit, and then we headed up to a lookout above the city. We found a great view, more goats, and some prickly pears in full bloom. These little sticky, spikes fruits would make any hipster mixologist envious as they would have gone great in a cocktail. Alas, you won’t find spirits here. Or hipsters, for that matter.

Tara walking a camel. He looks like a Fred.

This wrapped up our time in Somaliland. It’s the most scrappy, upstart little country I’ve ever been too, and I hope they keep things going. The world only needs one Mogadishu. Next stop is Djibouti, for something a little different.

Where we stayed: Damal Hotel - Great wifi, good food, safe. You can’t ask for more.