CAMP LEMONIER, Djibouti—Finally, the holidays are over. Christmas Day and New Year's Day were days off here. Being that we have a seven-day work week, it was nice to relax a little bit. Well sort of.

My commander, positioned over at U.S. Central Command Headquarters in Florida (those are the people 'in charge' of Operations Iraqi Freedom and Enduring Freedom), an Army major, paid my compadre and I a visit for the holidays. Let me back up a second.

My compadre is the crazy Army sergeant recalled back into the Army that I've mentioned previously. He and I were split off from the unit we're deployed with and were sent here to Africa. (Not unusual as our original group of 20 is now split into five groups, spread across three continents—that last part is a bit unusual, but I digress). Anyway, the good major paid us a visit as she wanted to spend Christmas in Djibouti with her troops—all two of us—to boost our morale or something—or hers, I guess. Really, she's a nice lady and I appreciated her visit and such, but if you've ever been in the military, you already know that a major visiting her two little sergeants means there will be work involved.

I had envisioned my Christmas holiday here to be one of sleeping in and staying in bed as long as I could stand it, just because I could. Then I'd follow up my perfect holiday with a multi-hour session of my favorite video game, Civilization 4 Beyond the Sword (Civ 4's Expansion Pack). Somewhere in there I'd squeeze in a meal, a walk or a run, and a shower. Maybe even go downtown that night as everything would be open since Djibouti is primarily a Muslim country. And of course, call my husband and others to say 'Merry Christmas' in the event that I could get an open phone line. You see, we're on the same military phone system as everybody in Iraq and Afghanistan and a number of other places, so
everybody trying to call home on the same day can be a frustrating experience. I think I got through to my husband around the 45th try. Then I was too sick of the process to bother trying to call anyone else until the next day, but there I go digressing again.

The major got in just before Christmas Eve and departed the day after Christmas. By the time she left, my fellow sergeant and I were ready for a vacation. We all ended up having a great time, but boy did we cram a lot into the time she was here!

We started with a windshield tour of Djibouti, the capital city of Djibouti. We showed her the port, which is the second largest employer of Djiboutians next to the U.S. military, the Kempinsky hotel (a wonderful Dubai-based chain of luxury hotels), the downtown marketplace, several beaches and several villages. Our good major fully understood what I meant when I said the national bird of Djibouti should be the crow, the national animal should be the goat, and that money doesn't grow on trees here, but trash does.

Outside of the capital city, the garbage is not too bad, but in some parts of the city, it's like an open trash can. The wispy cypress-like trees that grow everywhere here tend to be covered like Christmas trees with plastic bags of every color.

Goats here are as much of a traffic hazard as the people—both seem to mindlessly wander into the path of oncoming vehicles as if they'd never seen one before, which is NOT the case. When driving out in the country here, camels take the cake at seeming to be the dumbest animal AND the happiest looking animals ... to walk into the path of your oncoming vehicle ... followed by goats, burros and baboons. Yes, baboons. Baboons are really smart and can run pretty fast, but they can be stubborn about wanting to move out of your way and can be very dangerous too. You don't really want to get out of the car and shoo them away!

Christmas day found a group of us playing with the new football we received from Operation Care & Comfort at 'S**t Beach' near downtown. I realize how foul that sounds, but that's the nickname we've given that beach as the waterline there is used by many as a trashcan, bathtub and toilet. The sand there doesn't have as much glass there as in some other places, and as long as you don't let the ball go into the water and you don't dive for a ball on the ground, it's not that bad. (Though the ball did hit the water once and several did dive for the ball anyway.) This is a Third World country, so this type of beach is in no way limited to Djibouti. I've seen worse in other countries. Anyway, everyone had a great time. The major and I sat in the car and read magazines while the guys played football.

A number of Djiboutians eventually wandered over and watched the football 'game'—a very unusual site for them I'm sure. By the time we left, several Djiboutians were given the chance to learn how to throw the football around and seemed to have a great time doing so.

Unfortunately, I'll have to finish my holiday story another day as I have to go to work now. In the meantime, Happy New Year!

The guys play football at the beach on Christmas Day with the football we received from Operation Care & Comfort.

My boss here in Africa (not the one visiting), playing catch with a Djiboutian after he'd shown him how to throw a football.

The Kempinsky is the 5-star hotel here in Djibouti. Once you enter the gate, it's like leaving the country and entering a private paradise. There's a Sheraton here too, but the Kempinsky is simply in another league of hotels altogether.

Posted on Sunday, January 6, 2008 in Permalink