Making Friends.

And month number two coming to a close, complete! It's one of those weird passages of time that feels like I've been here long enough to settle in but am still smacked around daily by the little things that make it seem like I just arrived yesterday. While I've got the daily routine down to a hot, sweaty, scurry about we still don't have access to our promised vehicle so my extremely limited knowledge of Bootyland consists of where I can walk during short bursts of perspiring exploration. That and working these silly split shifts leaves little to no opportunity to meet people or properly or do things. Not to be completely discouraged however, I've thrown myself out there a little bit with notable success so far. I've made some new friends!

There's a fancy pantsy super posh hotel just down the road that hosts their own private beach party once a month or so. It seems to be attended by the leagues of various European military personnel that are stationed here and the kids of expat NGO staff. Crew cuts and 17 year old French girls – yeah, that's not a recipe for disaster of any kind, is it? Oh, and Ethiopian prostitutes. I've been schooled that anywhere there are military men, which is everywhere in Dj, there will be a following of Ethiopian prostitutes. Djiboutians cashing in on this action? Nope, only Ethiopians. Oh. Ok. Good to know, I guess.

Back to the beach party ... so I'm super excited to follow Bruce, his friend L, and a friend of hers for a night out on the sand. Great sound system set up, excellent people watching. Yes, let's make this a regular thing! Sadly after about 45 mins, L and her friend have to leave for the airport and Bruce wanted to leave as well. WHAT?! There's hardly anything to do in Dj, can't we stay and hang out and people watch, and beach party it up for a bit longer? A little bit longer? Nope. Hound dog frown. I decide that it would look a little creepy for this old girl to be trolling the beach party by myself so I resign myself to heading home with them. Oh boo hoo pity party me.

As we were leaving the grounds I saw two very tall, very NOT military looking guys heading in and oh fabulous universe, they were speaking American English. Pure crazy kicks in as I rush over and stick my hand out - “You're speaking North American English Nice to meet you! Where are you from?!” A few seconds of stunned silence as they peer down at this strange, sweaty, frantic fool. Then … game on. Intros made and a quick explanation, my friends are leaving and I'm not ready to go, I've only been here a couple of weeks and would really appreciate some North American company, do you mind if I hang out with you for a bit?! Ahhhh... they were awesome! Swept me up in good ole US charm in record time. Bruce and L continued on their way, I stayed with my new “friends by force”.

25 year old J and 57 year old K work for an American moving company that secured the contract for installing new furniture into the quickly growing US base here. The US military doesn't have “mover” as a trade, obviously. Djiboutians are hired to do the labour but a US company needs to coordinate all the logistics and oversee the mess in addition to the physical moving job. Enter J & K. A 3 week contract, that turned into almost 5 weeks, and they may return again in the new year. I'll take it!!

A rapidly growing US base but these were the first Americans I have seen. Why, I ask, why why why? The French, German, Italians, Spanish, Japanese can all come and go around town as they please; you see them here, there, and everywhere. The Americans? Confined to their well-equipped, well-guarded compound. Whether histrionic American paranoia or legitimate threat, they are only allowed off base in chaperoned groups using issued buses and only for limited social events. The beach party … off limits. But as J & K are contracted, not military, they are free birds. Lucky me!

SUPER nice guys who tolerated my cling on approach and over-enthusiastic chat. It was so nice to be able to talk about … not work. And to have a back and forth conversation. It was really, really nice and they were really, really accommodating and yes, it was very, very needed. Shame that their time here is so short but I have new friends for now – woop woop!

What else? I've had some wanders through town with my camera and this is always fun. The responses to me walking around town were about 90 -10. 90% of the people I passed smiled, asked to have photos taken, posed proudly, or took the moment to chat and giggle. It was what I've come to know of the people in Dj; welcoming, friendly, approachable, lovely. 10% of the people, most of whom didn't even enter my field of vision, felt the need to go out of their way, whether they were sitting on a sidewalk somewhere, walking behind me on the road, or just in a random crowd, to confront me, finger wagging in my face, shouting “NO! No photos!” At first I was shocked into speechlessness. What?! My camera was down, I simply had it in my hand, who are you, and where THE HELL did you just come from? Yikes. Have never run into this before.

I was soon able to spot these over-inflated egos before they got too close and when they did come up with a shaking finger, bless them for being able to speak several languages other than English, I beamed my biggest smile and uttered a muttered “oh f**k off.” through shiny, happy teeth. They had no idea what I was saying and I had the cathartic release of standing up to these bullies. And that's what they were – bullies. When other locals saw these meanies they quickly shushed them, waved them away, or scolded back for the way I was being treated. Fair, fair. I know better than to take photos around government or military backdrops but in the local market or walking the streets, come on. Get over yourself. I can promise you that your country's secrets will not be given up in the midst of broken down mini buses, stray goats, and trash heaps. I promise.

Most of the time, it's women who feel the need to scold my scenery snapping and I've still not quite figured out why. While taking pictures of the street kids who love this game, men will come up and shoo the kids away as they try to protect me from the swarms but once they see that I'm alright with it, they smile and encourage the chaos. The women however, shoo the kids and me away, angry muttering, scowls in scarves. I've stood my ground in some cases, as I was in a public square taking photos of only the children, but it got a bit heated and I started getting shoved, so I chose to move on. Taking pictures via phone seems acceptable as EVERYONE does this but a small DSLR … nope, no way. Suspicions of journalists gone awry? Political spies? Military undercover rat? Have no idea. But my camera is now a social experiment, I'll let you know what I find out...

Bullies aside, SUCH nice experiences wandering the inner city and being treated to big smiles and welcoming “Bonjour madame!” from doorways. A resource deprived, desperately dreary country with a fantastic mix of friendly faces. Wow. Well done Bootyland.

Bruce and I went on a boat trip / snorkeling day out to one of the nearby islands with the American guys – AMAZING, and we hung out or went to dinner with them as often as we could before they returned to the States. Fingers crossed they should be back in February for a few more weeks. Really nice guys who will be missed over these next few months.

What else have I done? Ooooo... I stormed a local dive shop and presented myself to the staff, Hi, I'm Janice, I live here, we WILL be friends. All fantastic people, of course, and have already been out on a day dive trip. Woop Woop! Two hour boat trip on their gorgeous liveaboard boat, two very nice and super warm dives with lots of colour and CLEAN water (no plastic or rubbish floating around) and sites all to ourselves. The American dive instructor, Sarah, has spent the last several years in SE Asia so we've already played the who-knows-who-where game; lots of similar friends in places we've passed through. Sitting amid dive gear reminiscing about this place, that site, or those people is an incredibly comforting feeling. Thank you dive world for helping me feel at home no matter how lost I may be. The other dive instructor is of course, fantastic, so I'm as happy as can be to have two great girls to spend some time with and hopefully explore the sea with over the next year. The manager is incredibly generous and accommodating so if anyone is looking to dive in Dj, wow have I ever got a great shop for you!

Our schedules make it difficult to socialize as we work mornings AND evenings but for two days a week, I'm slowly finding more options to occupy my time. This makes me happy. Hopefully we'll have a vehicle soon, the weather is starting to cool to just about tolerable (albeit still painfully hot midday), and I am learning to become more confident with my atrocious level of French so there will be more exploring on the horizon. Show me what you've got Djibouti!