The Melting Pot

Today, my co-worker, Mo took me the Melting Pot for dinner. I was excited because I have never been to the Melting Pot in the States. This is the second restaurant I have visited in Djibouti. The first restaurant, I went immediately after work, so I didn’t have to fret over what to wear. But this was my first real tour of the city, somewhat.

I decided to fit in by dressing like the Djiboutians and my new friend, Kadra. I put on the longest dress that I own and wrapped my head with a matching scarf. Most Djiboutians just seem to throw on anything and not worry about color schemes. When my coworker came to pick me up, all he could do was take a picture. (Picture is coming soon). He shook his head and tried to refrain from laughing. I ignored him because he is a male and they don’t have to cover up, so clearly he doesn’t know what he is talking about. After all my prior research on Djibouti, I was confident in my attire and we left for the Melting Pot.


While walking to the gate, we ran into other coworkers. Since I was covered up, they initially ignored me because they didn’t know who I was. (See, told you I fit in!!) When my coworker told them it was me, they all just had a ball laughing. One stated, “Ramadan doesn’t start until Monday. You don’t have to dress like that.” Whatever. As if I would take fashion advice from them.


Once we arrived at the Melting Pot, I was slightly upset. The entire menu was in French. Just a little background on me, I took Spanish in high school and college. So reading a French menu is a challenge for me. Mo stated that he would order for me, but I guess he was so hungry that he temporarily forgot about the promise he made. When the waitress came, I was forced to order by pointing at pictures. In the end, I received spicy tuna sushi.

Really?!? I finally get a chance to eat at a Melting Pot restaurant and I order sushi.


Moral of the story: I have to learn French!!