More Somaliland Musings

Dundumo

If I were a photographer, I would travel the world make coffee table books. I feel that it is an important market niche. There are many excellent subjects for coffee table books in Greater Somalia. (I refer to Greater Somalia in an attempt to be politically correct for Somalilanders who are hoping for international recognition as a separate country from Somalia and the state of Puntland which is also Somalia and plans to go back to Somalia if Somalia ever gets its act together. I think Somaliland deserves recognition but I will not write about that because it would take too long and require sources and MLA format and lots of stuff I left behind me when I completed my formal education.) Driving around the countryside visiting ADRA worksites gave me a great view of this strangely beautiful country. While I am always fascinated by camels and flocks of goats, I am also interested in muddy unpaved roads and dry riverbeds, but I recognize that buyers of coffee tables books might not share that interest. But who could possibly not share my interest in the subject of what would be my first coffee table book--dundumo (Somali for ant hill)?

Ironically, in spite of my self-stated desire to coffee-table-book dundumo, I didn't get many photos. While it shouldn't nomally be too difficult to take photos of stationary objects, in my case, I was taking all these photos from the back of a speeding car. Occasionally we'd hit a bump, catch some air, and go flying over several deep holes only to slam on the breaks in order to avoid hitting a wandering camel. I imagine it would be bad to hit a Somali symbol of wealth and future someone's future dowry. In Garowe, someone offered 100 camels for me, but I told him that as an imported women, I was naturally going to be more expensive and I wouldn't go for less than 500 (shipping costs are higher with the pirates). He tried to bargain but then realized that in the end, products imported aren't worth as much as you pay for them-they don't last much longer than those that are domestically-produced and it is often difficult to get used to their systems. Also the owner's manuals are written in so many different languages, it's hard to find the one that you want. Anyway, I don't have many pictures yet. I'll have to make a special trip on somebody's dowry camel so I can go slower and take more photos.

These dundumo are massive. They can be more that 2 meters high. Some are tall and slim and look like how I imagine Lot's wife turned out after she became a pillar of salt. Others look more like funky dirt snowmen. Some, fittingly, are reminiscent of sand castles. I like the ones built around trees that remind me of Angkor Watt temples that have been covered by jungle trees and vines although in this case, I'm pretty sure the trees were there before the buildings, unlike the Cambodian ruins. I also appreciate the dundumo that are right beside a tree. They look like they're in a competition to see who can grow taller. Sometimes the trees win, sometimes the ants pull it off.

I also noticed that dundumo are often found in the middle of a farm with the land cultivated around them. They also aren't removed from their places even if they are right beside a house or tent. I was surprised by this at first, wondering why they weren't cleared away. First I thought that maybe the people were afraid of being attacked by large red ants, angry at the destruction of their homes. Then I was more charitable and chalked it up to Somali respect for hard-working creatures who take weeks (months? years? I have no idea...I'll have to find out before I make my book) to build their elaborate hives (hives? nests? Again, stuff I'll need to know before I publish). But later, when I requested a photo beside a particularly massive one, I was told that Somalis are afraid of them because they are "the house of the devil" which I think means that they think that evil spirits live there. It also meant that the security guard who was already mad at me for a short trip to the beach while everyone else was in the bathroom (The foreign girl will be attacked by gangs with knives! Why did you let her go down to the beach? It's not deserted as it looks! In fact there are many evil people lying in wait for her! Now I have to convince the other fatter guard to go down there and watch out for her because at least he kind of likes her.) and mad at me for stopping for another photo-op picking up a tortoise (I need to get home to chew qat because stupid ADRA refused to pay me extra money for my drug of choice!) was even more furious with me for this last stop I politely requested. He was also mad because we stopped before we noticed a large monkey clan hanging around the tree nearby (They will eat up the foreign girl and then who will get in trouble? That's right, me. The guy who didn't get to chew qat). He didn't have to worry about me going over to the monkeys to get them to pose with me. I know monkeys from childhood days in Indo. They are not nice creatures. Sure the babies are cute and fuzzy and it's so clever how they hang on to their mommies, but they bite, steal food, give you rabies, throw stuff at you, and break your things. I don't mess with monkeys. Unless I am throwing stuff at them. Fair's fair.





So I got my photo, escaped a loud lecture from the guard by feigning ignorance of the Somali language, which is mostly true but I did recognize several new words I'd recently learned (badeed-sea, deen-tortoise, daanyeer-monkey, cun- eat, dundumo-you know this word already if you've been paying attention), and sat demurely in the car for the rest of the journey planning out various titles for my coffee table book, hoping that my qat-deprived guard wouldn't start shooting at our car, trying to get us to go faster. Here are some of the titles I came up with.

My first creative choice: Ant-hills of the Somali Desert. It seems pretty straightforward, but I did struggle with the Somali part (see side note above about Somaliland, Puntland, etc). Genius will come through at the end though, of course.

Then I thought, if I were catering to a more academic group (of course academics make up a huge percentage of coffee table book consumers), I would go for something like: The Architectural Masterpieces of Somali Desert Denizens, subtitled: How Evolution Helped Ants Adapt to Harsh Surroundings that Would Ultimately be Caused by Manmade Climate Change so That When Humans Destroy Themselves and Ants Take Over the World They Will All Have Nice Places to Live.

Naturally, my very popular book would spawn a series for children which I would entitle: Ants are People Too and They Feel Sad When People or Camels Kick Over Their Houses and Usually They Eat People Who Upset Them. I think this could make a very pleasing pop-up book as well.

Sadly, photography is not one of my skills. While I do believe that those super-fancy cameras are a huge part of why many aspiring photographers actually take good pictures, A) I am too poor and too cheap even if I weren't poor to buy one and B) I congratulate myself on taking pictures when my thumb isn't making an appearance in the left corner of the screen, the object I'm trying to shoot is near the middle of the photo, and a casual observer won't find him or herself feeling symptoms of vertigo when looking the picture. Alas, I shall leave my idea to others who agree that coffee and ant houses go together and he or she can reap the rewards, financial and otherwise, thereof. All I ask is that a small donation be made to the charity I happen to be working with at the time made out to "Amanda Stillman's salary" as a way of thanking me for my awesome idea.