Moucha Island Pics
Today, I went with one of my local friends, Gassira, to visit Moucha Island. Moucha Island is built of corals and located off the coast of Djibouti in the center of the Gulf of Tadjoura.
Gassira’s family currently manages the various activities and hotel at Moucha Island. As the manger, she went to verify that all maintenance was completed before the seasonal opening.
When she asked me if I wanted to join her at the Island, I had my swimsuit packed before she could even finish her sentence. From land, it was a 30 minute boat ride to Moucha. The trip was very peaceful and serene.
While Gassira was working, I enjoyed having the entire Island to myself. I picked seashells and swam in the water. The water wasn’t as salty as French Beach, so I was able to enjoy my swim without worrying about others urinating in the water.
After Gassira was finished working, she joined me in the Island. She was upset because none of the repairs were finished on the Island and they were planning to open in less than two weeks. She stated that she was going to have to stay on the Island for the next two weeks to ensure the work was complete. Poor thing. She must live a horrible life!
Sunday, August 21, 2011
Friday, August 12, 2011
Presenting: Delta Force
One of the main rappers in this video is my co-worker, Mike. A couple months ago, he flew in a professional production team from the States just so he could showcase some Djiboutian talent.
This video is the final result of months of hard work. The group's name is Delta Force. I have been trying to convince Mike to let me be a part of this group. I just know that I can take us to the next level in entertainment with all my many musical talents.
Back to reality--I just saw the video for the first time today, and as a testament to how small Djibouti is, I think I know over half of the people in this video.
Next month this time, I will have met everyone in this city. Hold me to that.
Thursday, August 11, 2011
My 12 Hour Days
Oh my goodness! I figured it out.
If I spend an hour for each meal = 3 hours
Djibouti shuts down completely from 12-4pm = 4 hours.
I take bathroom breaks from all the water I drink = 1 hour
Internet time to try to skype family and friends = 1 hour
After all this, I really only work 3 hours a day!!
If I spend an hour for each meal = 3 hours
Djibouti shuts down completely from 12-4pm = 4 hours.
I take bathroom breaks from all the water I drink = 1 hour
Internet time to try to skype family and friends = 1 hour
After all this, I really only work 3 hours a day!!
Saturday, August 6, 2011
French Beach
*Names have been modified to protect the Guilty
Today, I went to French Beach with J— and his Djiboutian girlfriend, Sago. The ride to French Beach is rocky, at best, and winds uphill a treacherous cliff. J- had to prove his manhood in front of his woman and sped the entire time. His driving was so wreckless; I got closer to God with the many prayers that I had to send up.
When we safely arrived, the atmosphere was perfect. There was no sun and just the right amount of breeze. We were the only ones at the beach, so I was able to enjoy being in the water without kids splashing me. The water is the saltiest ocean I have ever been in! No, I did not swallow any of it, but just wiping my face and near my eyes, you couldn’t help but notice how dense the water was. After about 10 minutes swimming, I had the natural instinct to use the restroom. I got out the water and tried to ask the restaurant workers were the restroom was, but they only spoke French. Yet, they have mastered the term “I don’t speak English.” I didn’t have to go that bad, so I waited for J- and Sago to get out the water and join me on the shore.
They both got out after a few minutes and inquired why I was sitting alone. I stated my “issue” to which Sago replied, “Just use the bathroom in the ocean.” Excuse me?? I am a 31-year old woman. Under no circumstance am I going to willingly urinate in open water. Especially when there is a restroom near!! She explained that I would not like the bathroom and would prefer the ocean. I was appalled and insulted. What type of lady did she take me for? Ladies do not urinate in open water. After we went through this disagreement, I won and J- walked me to the back of the restaurant where the bathroom was built.
It was an eastern-style outhouse. The “toilet” was in the floor. No lever to flush, No lid to lift. Just a hole for me to squat over and do my business. I must admit I was taken aback, but I think it was more the smell then the sight. Since I am borderline claustrophobic, I made J— hold the bathroom door ajar. In addition, it helped the bathroom air out the smell. He thought it was funny so he attempted to take a picture of me while I was in there. No picture was taken so I don’t have any porn to show you…Sorry.
Afterwards, I refused to get back in the ocean water. The thought of people using the restroom in the ocean almost ruined my trip. I began to think this was why the water was soooo salty.
In the end, a valuable lesson was learned. Use the bathroom before you go to French Beach and do not drink any water while you are out there.
(I know I keep saying this, but I have good pictures of the beach, the rocky roads, and the toilet. Stay tuned)
Today, I went to French Beach with J— and his Djiboutian girlfriend, Sago. The ride to French Beach is rocky, at best, and winds uphill a treacherous cliff. J- had to prove his manhood in front of his woman and sped the entire time. His driving was so wreckless; I got closer to God with the many prayers that I had to send up.
When we safely arrived, the atmosphere was perfect. There was no sun and just the right amount of breeze. We were the only ones at the beach, so I was able to enjoy being in the water without kids splashing me. The water is the saltiest ocean I have ever been in! No, I did not swallow any of it, but just wiping my face and near my eyes, you couldn’t help but notice how dense the water was. After about 10 minutes swimming, I had the natural instinct to use the restroom. I got out the water and tried to ask the restaurant workers were the restroom was, but they only spoke French. Yet, they have mastered the term “I don’t speak English.” I didn’t have to go that bad, so I waited for J- and Sago to get out the water and join me on the shore.
They both got out after a few minutes and inquired why I was sitting alone. I stated my “issue” to which Sago replied, “Just use the bathroom in the ocean.” Excuse me?? I am a 31-year old woman. Under no circumstance am I going to willingly urinate in open water. Especially when there is a restroom near!! She explained that I would not like the bathroom and would prefer the ocean. I was appalled and insulted. What type of lady did she take me for? Ladies do not urinate in open water. After we went through this disagreement, I won and J- walked me to the back of the restaurant where the bathroom was built.
It was an eastern-style outhouse. The “toilet” was in the floor. No lever to flush, No lid to lift. Just a hole for me to squat over and do my business. I must admit I was taken aback, but I think it was more the smell then the sight. Since I am borderline claustrophobic, I made J— hold the bathroom door ajar. In addition, it helped the bathroom air out the smell. He thought it was funny so he attempted to take a picture of me while I was in there. No picture was taken so I don’t have any porn to show you…Sorry.
Afterwards, I refused to get back in the ocean water. The thought of people using the restroom in the ocean almost ruined my trip. I began to think this was why the water was soooo salty.
In the end, a valuable lesson was learned. Use the bathroom before you go to French Beach and do not drink any water while you are out there.
(I know I keep saying this, but I have good pictures of the beach, the rocky roads, and the toilet. Stay tuned)
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
Ethiopia Earthquakes
This morning I awoke to my bed rattling. I immediately thought I was having a bad dream or someone was trying to enter my house by banging on the door. Afterwards, I was so shook that I was unable to fall back to sleep.
During our weekly meeting, my Technical Lead asked everyone if they felt the earthquake. I couldn’t believe my ears!! I actually experienced an earthquake!!! Instead of it being slightly exciting, as I imagined, it was quite scary.
Apparently, the earthquake was in Ethiopia which is approx 120 miles away. I haven’t been able to verify the details, but if I felt the Earth move from that distance, then the residents of Ethiopia are now in my prayers.
During our weekly meeting, my Technical Lead asked everyone if they felt the earthquake. I couldn’t believe my ears!! I actually experienced an earthquake!!! Instead of it being slightly exciting, as I imagined, it was quite scary.
Apparently, the earthquake was in Ethiopia which is approx 120 miles away. I haven’t been able to verify the details, but if I felt the Earth move from that distance, then the residents of Ethiopia are now in my prayers.
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