Violence

Violence is not typically found in Djibouti among it's people.

This isn't because Somalis are a peace-keeping, saving-face kind of people, for I have seen and heard things which give evidence that Somalis as a tough group of people who deal with each other roughly. And this truth is partially why their home country is in such a state of disarray, says some here. Merely belonging to a different Somali tribe is grounds for exclusion and hate between two Somali people. And the relationship between the Somali and Afar (the other major people group here) is not all that great, either. Conflict arises as it would in any other place that has a population divided between two or more ethnicities. Afars and Somalis which have for the last several decades been rather nomadic people groups call the same country home, and a desire for a peaceful, homogeneous nation probably sounds pretty good to both groups. There are arguments and there are fist fights, and hostility toward the "outsider/intruder" remains in some Somali and Afar hearts, but their fighting is rarely anything violent which is both shocking and respectable.

Violence is rare between people here, but you should know that it is not completely absent. Here, major violence can be found among the cats. Probably between goats, donkeys, dogs, camels, monkeys, flamingos, and every other animal in the country, but I'm only certain of it between the cats. I usually don't see how the fights begin or end, but on more than one occasion I have heard the loud cries of cats in a pretty nasty brawl outside. Today was the first time that I saw some consequence of the violence that takes place outside my bedroom window nearly every night.

As Kristie, Emily and I were leaving for language lesson today, we saw a poor, skinny cat sitting outside our door. This sight is nothing new since there's usually 2-3 cats outside our apartment every time we walk outside because of the shade the building creates, but this cat was cowering in a way that is not so normal. I walked toward it and crouched down to get a look and saw that it's right eye was missing and replaced with dried blood and crust! A piece of straw or maybe a stick was stuck to the bloody fur and the cat looked like it was in a terrible amount of pain. Horrible cat violence leaves this cat with one eye and who knows what sort of wounds his opponent has.



After we got home from language I came back outside with some water for the cat and sat down across the walk-way. I looked it in the eye trying to communicate compassion while it cried over and over again. We aren't on the same brainwave, I know, but I had hope that it could comprehend through eye contact that I am concerned and want to help it. I don't know whether that was communicated or not, but the cat continued to cry and hiss when I got close so I left the water and went back inside. Violence is misery for those that fight and for those who have to look at its consequences. I'm thankful that Djibouti is currently a safe country for its people, but I'm reminded by animal instinct that violence is not far from a created and fallen being.