The Little Things

I have always loved the little things in life--children's laughter, the smell of lilacs, a good book next to a good fire. But living in Djibouti has given me a whole new set of "little things" to appreciate about life. This week, it feels like the usual stresses have been turned up a notch. It's getting hotter, the power cuts have been longer and more frequent than usual, the final exam frenzy has begun at the university. So I thought it would be good to meditate on the little things I have come to appreciate about Djibouti. For example:

I love coming home at night and seeing the tell-tale signs of electricity--shops are open, street lights are on, and everyone is happy.

When said power is out, I love sitting on the roof and looking up at the stars.

I love the universal boo that erupts through our neighborhood when the power goes off as well as the universal cheer that arises when it comes back on.

I love riding in cars! No one proposes or asks for money. I'm not squished in like on the bus with my bags and sweat dripping everywhere. There are generally goat, water jug, and grocery-free spaces in which to sit and enjoy the air-conditioning. I feel quite awed by the comfort and privacy of cars and look forward to riding in my bosses' car once every week or two.

I love cold, clean water. I used to think of water as something plain and tasteless. Never again.

I don't love sweat, but without it I would die. So in that case, I guess I'm thankful for it.

I love the teacher's room (or "salle des profs" as we say) at the university. It is air-conditioned, has internet access, and is the one place in town that I know is always open. Many a quick nap have I taken on the couch in there.

To that end, I also love the Ethiopian restaurant a few blocks away. It is the only nearby place I know that is open for lunch. Without it, my only recourse for lunch in town is a banana from the fruit sellers.

I love that my Somali is somewhat conversational now. Instead of feeling frustrated and desperate to know what is happening, I now often have some idea of what is going on around me and whether people are offering insults or compliments. Now all the the shop-keepers, vendors, beggar children, and bag ladies from the center of town to the university know who I am, what my job is, where I live, and where I came from. They also know that I don't give money to children, and that I would not like to buy a skirt or exchange American dollars to Djibouti franc, thank you.

I love that it is culturally acceptable to just yell in someone's face if you are angry with them. If you make a good point or have a perceived right to be angry, Somalis won't hold a grudge. They will just think you are a strong person. If you think someone is stupid and crazy, you can just say "Hey, you are stupid and crazy!" and no one looks at you sideways.

Praise God for sunscreen! Without it, my face would redder than a lobster and covered in blisters.

I love that a friend discovered a magical garden with trees and flowers and fresh herbs which can be found behind a garage, down a rocky hill, across a plateau of rocks and on the other side of a dry riverbed.

I love that I can tell my teammates, "I hate Africa today" and they know what I mean and wait to ask me for anything until the next day when I don't hate Africa anymore.

Most of all, I love being with people (foreigners and Djiboutians alike) who are also tired, hot, frustrated, and uncomfortable because we can understand each other, sympathize and then laugh over the fact that we still want some hot coffee and tea!