Las Geel - some more information

The following is an abstract that I found on the wwww on the outcomes of an archeological survey that was done some years ago:

An archaeological survey was carried out by a French team in November and December 2002 in the Somaliland Republic. The objective was the search for rock shelters and caves containing stratified archaeological infills capable of documenting the period when production economy appeared in this part of the Horn of Africa (circa 5th and 2nd millenia B.C.). The Las Geel site, a granite rock sheltering about ten shelters decorated with polychrome paintings, was dis- covered in the course of the survey. These paintings, in an excellent state of preservation, mainly represent humpless cows with large lyre-shaped or arched horns and the neck decorated with a kind of „plastron”. The cows are accompanied by stocky human figures with spindel-shape legs and raised arms. There are also some figures of canidae placed beside men, a single giraffe and some antelopes. The evident superposition of several graphic styles will no doubt make it possible to establish a chronology of Neolithic or Protohistoric rock art in this part of the Horn of Africa. Through the abundance of its paintings, their quality, the originality of the type of representation of bovines and human figures, the Las Geel site will henceforth take its place among the major Holocene sites of rock art in this region of Africa. A future mission planned for November 2003 will make it possible to undertake a detailed study of these paintings and their archaeological context. This note constitutes a preliminary presentation of this exceptional discovery

And this is how the Lonely Planet writes about Las Geel

Las Geel is undisputably Somaliland's pièce de résistance. Hundreds of magnificent neolithic rock art paintings in perfect condition adorn the walls of several interconnected caves and shelters. Some paintings exceed one metre in length and their state of preservation is exceptional.
Were it not in Somaliland, this fantastic site would immediately be declared a World Heritage Site and swamped with masses of tourists. Sadly (well, not quite), as long as Somaliland is not recognised by the international community, all attempts at protecting Las Geel will be unsuccessful and it will remain a hidden gem.

Las Geel - Somalilands main tourist attraction

Somalilands' tourist attractions are not plenty in numbers, but those few, which are there, are worth to be seen. After having lived for almost one and a half year in Somaliland, I have finally made it to visit the major tourism site, too: The rockpaintings from Las Geel - Las meaning water and Geel meaning Camels. However, its name does only partly pay tribute to the history of this place. None of the numerous rockpaintings shows even the smallest camel. Instead, the massive caves are decorated with hundreds of cows, in a variety of situations:

milking cows

pregnant cows

grazing cows

decorated cows

The variety was almost endless. Next to cows, some other animals were eternalized on the rocks of Las Geel, too. On the picture below, you can see the Director of the Ministry of Culture and Tourism (yes, Somaliland has a ministry for culture and tourism!) pointing at some giraffes. Have these been the last giraffes of Somaliland? Today, the rockpaintings are the only witness that these gracious animals have ever lived here.

Shabelle, how the Director introduced himselves to us, had come down to the caves together with a British tourist. Alone prospects of such a special treatment are worth to visit this country, dont you agree? In which other country of the world would a simple tourist have the honour to be guided around by the Director of a Ministry?

Besides phantastic paintings of pregnant and milking cows, the area around the caves is quite rewarding, too. What could be better for a passionate mountain climber like me than climbing a little peak? On top of Mt. Las Geel, I enjoyed the view and a nice chat with my new colleague from SwitzerlandAnd this is the view. Empty river beds, called Wadi, and a wide, semi arid, yet in my eyes beautyful landscape.
None of us doubted the peacefulness of the place. Yet, as it is the rule in Somaliland, we were accompanied even to this remote spot by the so called SPU, special police unit. I dont necessarily feel safe with a kalashnikov in my back, but thats the package that one gets in Somaliland. Either you take it, or you leave it. But than you should also leave the country.

Anyhow, even our SPU (who are, by the way, to a great extend quite sympatetic fellows) seemed to enjoy the day and to learn more about their ancestors The caves also offered some cosy sitting areas

And here again, the Wadi. By the time we visited the place, it was nearly empty. But be aware of rain. These innocent sandy riverbeds can turn themselves into torrential rivers within less than an hour!

Somali Prayer Flags?

Today, on my way to a local NGO, I noticed thousands of plastic bags caught up in a fence. Management of solid waste is a growing problem in Somaliland, and it is not the first time that my eyes catch pictures of colored plastic bags lying or flying around. They are usually all over the place. Caught up in trees, they are commonly called the "Somaliland flowers". Today, however, they reminded me less of flowers than of tibetian prayer flags. I have never been to Tibet, but I imagine the sight of hundreds of prayer flags somehow similar...
Meanwhile, Somalilanders have hold a big demonstration today against threats from the Transitional Federal Government of Somalia to reunite the various parts of Somalia: South Central Somalia (thats where all the mess takes place), Puntland (less noisy, somehow autonomous and not as much catched up fights as the South) and Somaliland (declared unilaterally independence in 1991, but did so far not receive international recognition). It seemed that every Somalilander, regarless of party or clan, participated or at least passively supported todays (peaceful) demonstrations in Hargeisa and other towns of Somaliland. United against the Unity. Looking at the wretched mess that is left of Somalia and its hypocritical TFG, I can only support these demonstrations.

Early mornings in Somaliland

It was one of these nights where I closed my eyes just to open them again. Having written my daily notes, I tried to catch some sleep at around eleven. But thoughts about my life and it's surroundings kept me awake. With some fear I am following the happenings in the South of Somalia, that are every thing else than promising. Just like myself I get the impression that all what the president of the TFG (transitional federal government) is doing or saying fires back on him, and more sad, on the people living there. Not to forget of course about the many other actors that mingle once again with Somalia.

At three I decided to call my sister, in Zuerich, taking advantage of the two hours difference in time. Although I like Somaliland, it is not always easy to stay here. Life consists pretty much of work and reading, and of talking to other slightly desperate expatriates. People can be desperate of many things here in this country, but the biggest desperation is in my view the abstinence from beloved ones. At least for me. In moments like this last night it therefore feels like balsam on the soul to talk to somebody who lives a "normal" life, and to discover that also these "normal" lives come in a package of up and downs.

At five am I was still awake, by now however every thought of maybe catching some sleep had to be abandoned. From every corner in the town, hundreds of muezzins invited in high and low voices the inhabitants of Hargeisa to join the morning prayer. I know some collegues of mine who feel a bit disturbed by this morning dolby surround concert. Personally I dont mind them. Dont ask me why, but whenever I hear these sounds, and I breath in the fresh morning air, I feel reminded of winter in Europe. Maybe thats because it is pretty cold at the moment here in Somaliland.

After listening to the words of the muezzins, whose contents I can't understand, but whose sound still makes me breath out and relax, I decided to start the day instead of waiting for the alarm bell to tell me "its time to get up". Maybe the reason why I like mornings is because they are all mine. I can sit in the office, and work, without being obliged to talk to other people. I can also just sit on the balkony, watch the sky turning bright, and imagine things. And I can communicate to people while they are still asleep, as I am doing now. Everything feels fresh, full of energy, during morning hours. The air is filled with mist, instead of dust as later in the day. No bad noise disturbes these moments.

I also had a short talk with some of our watchman, who was standing, wrapped up in a blanket, in front of the house. He had seen the lights in my room go on and off several times during the night, and gave me the advice to simply use the evening hours to evaluate the past day instead of thinking too much about the coming days. I guess its also these brief interactions that keep me going here in Somaliland, and that give me the feeling that what I am doing makes sense.

Being conscious of that, I would say its time to start my work :-) Have a nice day, and for all those who are not yet early risers, I can only say: try it out! Mornings have lots to offer.

Why 2007 can only turn better

It's hard to believe how much s*** can happen in the course of one single day.

I was supposed to take off from Nairobi Airport direction Somaliland last Saturday at 8 am, to move back to my dutystation Hargeisa. The night before I had told a friend, in a kidding voice, - who knows, maybe we are experiencing technical problems and therefore have to turn back to Nairobi. I curse myself for having said this.

Ten minutes after take off, I heard a loud noise, felt a cold breeze over my shoulders, and when I turned my head around, I had to realize that the door of our plane had gone! It was a small plane (a beechcraft, ten seater), and I had the honour of sitting right in front of the -by now- missing door. I could of course have taken one of the front seats of the plane, but according to my old theory, seats in the back are saver in case of an emergency landing. I did of course not take into account the probability of loosing the door when coming up with this hypothesis. Peaking down through the hole, I was able to see the lush geen fields of Machakos, a district outside Hargeisa. For a moment I was sure that this was the last time I saw green color through living eyes. The nose of the plane pointed steep down, for a perceived eternity. I was the only one to scream, holding my hands franatically on the seat in front of me. Was I the only one to worry? Of course, I was sitting closest to the door, meaning that I would be the first one to be sucked out. Or where the others too resignated to even be sorry about their lifes ending in such a tragic way? Maybe they simply knew more about planes than I do. After few terrible seconds, the plane stabilized at around 2000 Foot, made a 180° turn and we flew back to Jomo Kenyatta Airport in Nairobi. Our landing was welcomed by fire fighters, police men and the emergency cars. It was not possible anymore to walk out the plane (doors in this small planes have a double function: to close the plane when in the air, and to serve as steps when on ground), so we had to jump out of the plane. I was quite under shock, and could for the first few minutes not realize what happened. I simply wanted to go home, hug somebody, and get some credits for still being alive. After all, had this accident happened at 30.000 feet instead of 11.000 feet, we would have been sucked out (n.b.: my theory, disaprooved later on by a collegue in the field who apparently nows more about planes than I do).

One additionla hour we had to stand around the demolished plane, until we were aloud to leave the airport. Later, when I met some friends for a coffee, I was asked about my thoughts during this close to death situation. To be frank, the only thing I thought was - why did I ever chose to work in Somaliland? No philosophical recaps over my life. Time was simply too short.

But as the saying goes in German, ein Unglueck kommt selten allein (one misfortune seldom comes alone). After some back and forth, I agreed to accompany some collegues to a place outside Nairobi, where they were planning to spend the weekend. Deep in my heart, the only thing I really wanted, was to lay in the arms of a close person and forget about the lush green fields of Machakos.

Before reaching Naivasha, I further became witness of a road accident that had happened some hours before, leaving eight people dead, as I got to read the next morning. There was not much left of the bus and the small lorry that crashed into each other, than some unrecognizable metal scraps.

In the evening I had to drive back to Nairobi on my own, since the others had already ealier decided to spend the night in the Malewa camp. Kenyan roads are not fun by day (see previous post), but defenitely a very bad tip during night time. Apart from that I had forgotten my glasses in Somaliland (very stupid), I had drunken one or two beer during the day, and didnt therefore feel at all prepared for sitting two hours alone in the car. But what other choice did I have? My flight to Somaliland was alraedy confirmed for Sunday.

As anticipated, driving back was no fun. The roads are dark like tar, and you have to share them with crazy matatus, huge busses, slow trucks, and speeding jeeps. Somehow, dont ask me how, I managed to drive savely back to Nairobi. Only one little incidence occured on the way: a man was suddenly standing in the middle of the road, out of the nowhere. Being unable to break in time, I hit him slightly with the left mirror of the car. I immediately stopped to see whether hes ok or not. I shouldnt have done that, of course. But I am simply not able to drive on, not knowning what happened to a fellow. Out of the nowhere, ten youngsters surrounded the car, waving, shouting, etc. Quite scary. After some negotiating I agreed to bring the guy to the closest hospital (by then I had already gotten hold of a girl about my age who succeeded in calming down the crowd). In the hospital they approved what I had already sensed: the guy was more drunk than the night dark, and he was not injured at all. Quickly I gave him some small money, thanked the doctor, and drove the last kilometers home, by now completly exhausted.

I guess, looking back at all these events, I was in many ways quite lucky. I could have been twice in big trouble. On the other hand, if I wouldnt have gone to Naivasha, life would look brighter by now. I could have spend the day at the pool, meeting with some people in Nairobi, and gaining strength for the next day. Instead, I drove to Naivasha and had to go through this ugly experience at the end of the day. But then again, how much sense does it make to think through these "what could have been if" ghosts? All what is there is the result of actions that I took based on intuition and little rationality. Thinking back I might say, it was the wrong intuition, but in that very moment it was the only thing my mind and heart told me. So, in Edith Piafs words, I dont regret...

I dont regret, but I will for sure try to forget this day. For now, all what is remaining is a sunburn on my shoulders from the afternoon in Malewa, a broken side mirror in the car of my friend and a light flash back whenever I feel fresh air over my shoulders. And also these traces, will, one day, soon, by gone.

Happy 2007 to all of you, and if you have any good advises on how to relax and breath out, let me know. Improving in those two fields is one of my biggest resulotions for my future :-)

Epilogue:

The next morning the plane to Hargeisa was again delayed. Reason: Somebody had forgotten to switch off the cabin lights the night before, resulting in a flat battery. We got another plane and landed savely in Hargeisa at 2 pm.

The day after, I got notice that another Echo plane had to turn back to Nairobi, due to technical problems. This time it was the cabin pressure that failed...

A long and bumpy road

For last years Christmas holiday I chose western and northern Kenya as travel destination: northern Kenya because I have for a long time felt attracted by the unfamiliar names of places in that part of Kenya, and for many years I have wondered what these places with names like Marich or Kabarnet have to offer. I added western Kenya to the trip, more or less make it be able to sell it to my friend Ib who seemed rather unpleased by the idea of crossing semi arid landscapes, picked with mountains and rivers, for five full days.

Looking at the map, the trip seemed promising: One day Nairobi - Kabarnet, the second day up the Kerio Valley (doesn't that name sound very melodic and inviting?), until Marich pass, along the escarpment of the Cherenyani hills. The third day I planned for some trekking, and later in the day to move on to Kakamega forest, the only remaining rain forest in Kenya. The fourth day was to be spent inside the rain forest, and in the evening we planned to move on to Kisumu, on the shore of the Lake Victoria. And finally, on the fifth day, we would return to Nairobi.

Somehow, this plan didn't quite work out...

First day Kabarnet was still ok. Roads in this part of the country are excellent, not very surprisingly, after all Kabarnet is the home to former Kenyan president Arap Moi. Neglecting most other parts of the country, he generously invested in the roads around his home town. The legacy of his nepotic investments is still widely noticable when travelling from Nairobi to Kabarnet (and - in a negative way - to other parts of Kenya).

We spent the night in the old fashioned Grand Hotel of Kabarnet. From the interior of the rooms it must have experienced its peak in the seventies. The swimmingpool seemed a relict from the good old times, too, offering at least a scenic background for pictures.

The next day we moved on to the Kerio valley, just below Kabarnet. Unfortunately, roads became worse and worse the farther away we went from Moi country.

More than once we had to apply the "walk through" trick, before crossing the small lakes that took over large parts of the road.

After two hours on bumps and through water, we reached the lake Kamnerok. This time, I agree, my affection for strange names has defenitely not proved to be right. Or do you think that this pond is worth two hours on a bumpy road?

Thereafter we went back to the main road (!) that was to bring us to Marich. Although marked on the map as "highway", it was little more than a secondary road. The landscape was impressive, but the condition of the road was rather questionable.

Before embarking on this never ending trip through Kerio valley, we managed to have a glimpse at the Cherama gorge (dont remember the exact name), a very interesting stone formation

Along the Cherenyani hills we drove for several hours, the last two during the night, through dark bush, until we reached the Marich pass at eight in the night

When waking up the next day, I discovered that a huge river was just next to our banda - had it been there the night before, or was it the rain that suddenly caused the river to rise? Unfortunately, it was raining too much the next day as if it would have been possible to discover the Cherenyani hills by foot.

Therefore, we decided to leave Marich pass in the morning and drive down the Turkana road to Kitale. Believe it or not, the road was build by the Norwegians 30 years ago. Thats approximately the age of my friend, here posing just in front of one of the many potholes that are remaining from the road.

Many of these rivers we had to cross before reaching the less rough landscapes around Kitale

The same day we drove into Kakamega forest - or should I say "slided"? The roads were a mess, full of red mud (looked nice, though), but somehow we managed to manouvrer our car through this slide without getting stuck


Kakamega forest itself is the last left over of the once large congolean rain forest of Central afrika. Today it covers about 238 km².

View from the view point in the heart of the forest

Another muddy road through Kakamega forest

Hunting the well hidden black forest scorpoin - after turning hundreds of stones, I started to doubt his existance

What would a holiday trip be without at least one kitschy sun set?

Unfortunately most of the shore along Kisumu that we reached on the forth day is owned by the railway, while the remaining part has been transformed into an animal park. This means that there are no public beaches available...

Expept one, that is however commonly used as car wash place.

So we decided to hire a boat and sweeten the travel (at least for my friend) with some fishing. But also here the luck didn't seem to be on his side... However, after some discussions with our boat captain we soon realized that it is not a problem of skill, but a problem of the equipment :-)

I still enjoyed it!

These are the restaurants along the harbour of the lake Victoria - Well done, Coka Cola!

And finally, our travel back: three hours bumpy road (and seven hours normal road) - and imagine, this is supposed to be the most important road in Kenya, connecting Mombasa with Kampala in Uganda. A pity that former President Moi is not exactly from this part of Kenya

And this is a night visualization of the bumps shown above.

Looking back at the trip I must say that it was not exactly what I expected to get, but I still enjoyed it a lot. At least now I know what these odd names have to offer: bad roads, lush landscapes, wild rivers, red earth, extremely helpful people, and (the best of all): no tourists at all.

Personally I can defenitely recommend to visit this part of Kenya. One should however give it a bit more time, especially the Cherenyani hills can make for an intersting trekking area if suffiecient time is provided.