Mayhem in Djibouti

I return from my brief visit from the States to find that everyone lost their mind in the one week that I was gone. For starters, they fired our property manager for the Villas that we live in. I am still unsure of the reason, but with that decision, my house lock was changed and my maid, Kadra was gone!

I have already expressed how I love Kadra! I was livid to find that they let her go and hired a whole new set of maids.

The following Saturday, Kadra calls me from the outside gate and ask if she can come visit me. I go to pick her up and she is crying uncontrollably. All I could get from her was that she needed a job because she is the bread winner of her family and her father is terminally ill. I immediately made phone calls and asked the new property management if they could hire Kadra back. The manager, Leila, agreed since I made a compelling argument on why Kadra must stay with me. All Leila needed was a copy of Kadra’s Djiboutian ID as proof of her citizenship. A day and time was set and Kadra was on her way to being employed…again.

Well, Kadra decides to meet with Leila and invites along 3-4 other previously-fired maids from the Villas. The other girls took over the meeting and demanded more money. Reason being; they felt our houses were too big and too dirty. Leila would not budge on the $200 USD/month that she pays her maids. In the end, Kadra did not end up showing her ID and hence was out of a job.

To date, I have only spoke to Kadra via text messages but I was told that she found a new gig that didn’t pay as much, but offered free medical insurance for her and her family. Sounds like a win-win to me.

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!!