Taking a Breather

So. In hopes of varying the posts, I am going to take a breather from refugees and Somalia for a moment. After I just share this, from the WaPo trifecta of stories this past week on Somalia:

The U.N. refugee agency said 58,000 people have fled violence in Mogadishu since the beginning of February.

Waves of people have crossed Somalia's western border into Kenya, raising concerns that Islamic radicals could be trying to hide there. On Friday, a senior Kenyan police official said six officers in Garissa, near the border, were arrested and accused of aiding "possible terrorists" from Somalia or Ethiopia.

Forty-five Somalis have been detained since Friday, police said.

Somalia has been mired in chaos since 1991, when warlords overthrew dictator Mohamed Siad Barre and then turned on one another.

OK. So. Just a few thoughts on the above:

1) 58,000 Somalis fleeing--that is 1/3 of the total number of Somalis in the camps of Kenya--who have tricked in, been born there, come sporadically since 1991. 58,000 people. SINCE FEBRUARY.

2) Dear Kenya: you kind of look like huge assholes. We are essentially locking people into a self-imploding country. Is this some kind of social experiment to see what happens when we allow anarchy and a population to return to a Hobbesian state? Are Somalis really this expendable? Really?

So I continue to plug away at the paper, regardless of feeling like I am having a relapse of malaria because in my gut of guts I know there is some value here. I was talking to my friend Martina, who just came home from spending 6 months in Southern Sudan with MercyCorps. We were talking about the different realities in Sudan and Somalia, working with these populations. Martina talked about her training on what to do should you find yourself in the middle of a mine field--since they are so common in Sudan. My response, of course, was "well, how in the world would you KNOW? I mean, isn't that the point of mines, that they're buried?" She was explaining that most of the people planting the mines were "in a hurry" and would often leave the mine packaging at the site of the landmine. I had to (very inappropriately) chuckle at the genius of it all.

And I will try to leave the endless trickle of thoughts on the horn of Africa, refugees, our places in this conflict at that. What shall I write about next...hmmm....we shall see.