Reflections...Again

Vermont is a good place to think. It's quiet and peaceful. On snowy days, like those we've had the past week, it's easy to become enveloped in the silent blanket of white that falls for hours. Over glasses of wine, wrapped in a balnket on the couch after everyone has gone to bed, in the days just before the current year wraps its way to a close, the time is ripe for contemplation.

Most recently I've found my mind wandering back to Somalia. For those who may not have stumbled upon this humble blog until recently, it began as a journal of my days in a refugee camp on the border of Somalia--merely a way to keep people informed about my whereabouts, thoughts, struggles and successes of the work that I did while I was there. Now, almost 18 months later, I find myself wandering back to that experience and thinking about the country that left such a profound impact on me, even without stepping foot within its borders.

Somalia has been called recently the "other Darfur" by Time magazine. Somalia topped their list of 2007's most unreported newstories. Am I surprised? No. I would have been blown off my seat if, after 17+ years, Somalia had suddenly shot to the top of the list. But what's been interesting has been the slowly creeping importance of Somalia in the outer pages of the news we read most--stories topping the Washington Post and NYT's Africa sections dealing with Somalia, a story recognizing a region of Somalia, Somaliland, as a possibly independent government, and a fucntioning one at that by the Pentagon. Recognition of the refugee crisis that is ensconcing villages, towns, cities, generations of this country's people. The reminder in November of this year of the United States' failed campaign there in 1993 when 2 Ethiopian soldiers were dragged through the streets, much in the same way American soldiers were more than a decade before.

Somalia is not easily forgotten, as it has never truly been recognized. We, being those outside of E. Africa, have easily ignored the vast refugee surge into Kenya that has created over 1 million refugees since 1991. Somalia has lacked a functioning government since the same time, yet has retained a seat in the UN regardless of the indecencies it has inflicted on its people since the conflict began. It is lawless and frightening, a breeding ground for the terrorists that the US, with GWB at its helm, has sought to combat.

And through all of this hopelessness, the country lingers at the forefront of my mind. In D.C., my life tends to be...a blur. A complex mix of classes, work, journal, friends, life, self searching while remaining fabulous STUFF that inhibits my ability to really think about the things that mean something to me. I listened to an interview with Huckabee this morning (God help all of us if he gains the Republican nomination) where he spoke about valuing ALL humans as equals, every life valued, regardless of race, religion, national origin etc equally. I could not help thinking what a maddening and audacious statement this was. I wondered if he had thought, before making this statement, about the people outside of the US who we have allowed to descend into a place of hopelessness and despair for the fundamental reason he declared we should value each and every person.

In two weeks I begin my last semester of law school. Typically the semester where 3Ls throw caution to the wind, take late day classes, celebrate for 4 months at night the culmination of their studies, and, for me, the semester where I get the chance to represent my first client: an asylum seeker who is looking to me to advocate their very last chance to remain in this country based on past and potentially future persecution in the country from which they came should they return. I necessarily think of the experience on the border of Somalia, the current state there, the people I met. And I hope, with extreme and unrestrained audacity, that others think of it too.

On my parent's porch in Vermont, sipping wine and watching the snow fall, this is what I'm thinking about. Maybe not the most uplifting way to ring in the New Year, but perhaps not the worst way either.

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.