Galgodon Highlands Part 1

[Milad]

Spring in the Galgodon Highlands lasts from April to September.

 

The breeze was cool with a hint of frankincense from the trees on the cliffs. I loved that smell. Its headiness, like wine for your nose. The curtains billowed in the air slightly. The birds chant. She was asleep and I carefully got out of bed.

 

I contemplated going out on the skiff, checking the lobster traps as I brush my teeth. I hope its not hot. The lobsters hide in the rocks and forget about the fish in the traps.

 

My rubber sandals skid on the tiles as I walk into the kitchen. A bowl of purple figs sits in the center of the wooden table made from scavenged drift wood. I remember she hated it when I first assembled it. Now it seems it has always belonged there. A honey colored sister to the white earthen walls. She loves it now and for hours reads there with the cat.

 

I have turned into my mother. I roast green cardamom pods, cinnamon, and cloves to make tea. Crushing them in the mortar before boiling them with Assam and fresh ginger. My mother too liberal with the ginger, said it was good for fresh breath. Partly, she was right.

 

Gilgish scratches at the french doors leading to the garden. Eyeing a small bird eating a seed. I let him out,the bird is too quick. He rolls around on the stones in a patch of sunlight as consolation.

 

The tea boils and I slice the figs, stealing a few bites. I tare the bread covering it with a blanket of goats milk yogurt, figs and honey.

 

Her footsteps betray her.

“Good morning, babe” she says,

“Good morning hon, are you hungry?”.

[Iris]

Spring in d Galgodon Highlands, Hint of Frankincense, Wine for ur nose, Fish in the Traps, Lobster traps, Lobsters hide, Skid on d tiles, Bowl of Purple Figs sits, Honey Colored Sister, Gilgish scratches at d French doors.......I almost thot i was reading some poetry until u said 'Good Morning, Babe'.

[Milad]

Galgodon Highlands Part 2

 

“Yes”

“Good, would you like some eggs too?” I reply

“No, this looks good for now”

 

I love to watch her eat.

 

She savors the crumbly bread and licks her fingers of honey as I pour tea.

 

“Are you going to catch me some lobster today or what?”

“I set out the traps, I hope your yearnings have brought them out of the rocks” I tease

We laugh and talk over cups of tea.

 

Gilgish wanders in for milk and fish bait I saved from the lobster traps.

 

Talking with her I am suddenly aware that I don't want to leave her.

 

“Weger” I hear my aunt say way off in the distance. Sound carries in highlands.

 

Aunt Chawahiir has come to offer us some goats milk and chat with Danyella to practice her long forgotten English.

 

“Haye, Manoshiheen?” (Alright, Are you alive(plural)) She says

“Ha, wa fiican nahai, Iska Waran?” (Yes, we are well, how are you?” I ask with a giggle

“Fiican” (Well) She responds with a sly smirk

 

I have chopped some wild grasses for her goats to nibble on while she talks with Danyella.

 

She has always been a silent ally.

 

“It’s getting hot in the valley, you better get down to the shore if you want to fish today” She advises.

“I will”

 

I leave them in the shade of the lemon trees covering the garden. Gilgish asleep at my aunts feet.

 

I pass carefully through thorned thick plants and the occasional Dragons Blood and Frankincense trees. Reminding myself to harvest their sap on my way up.

 

I see my small skiff anchored. Like a bird resting on the waves. The smell of sea, salt waiting.

 

The sand is hot on the beach but not unbearable. I walk into the water and start towards the the skiff.

 

Drenched from the swim in, I ring out my hair and grab the oars to row towards the traps.

 

Looking out onto the cliffs I see aunts goats and wild goats dotted like white specks on the brown green of the earth.

 

I grab the first of the 6 traps. One single lobster, I throw it into a bucket of salt water. I carefully re-bait the trap.

 

The second is empty the bait still untouched. I set it back in the water. I hear the goats off in the distance baing. I wonder if we should have lamb instead.

 

The third has two lobsters both pregnant. I set them free. The 4th, 5th, and 6th contain a total of *** lobsters one which is extremely large and blue.

 

I re-bait the traps and set them farther up the cove.

 

I decide to catch some fish. I bait a line. The sun was harsh. Two hours of waiting.

 

I rowed towards shore. Only the wild goats and ibax visible from the sea.

 

I need to use the fishing pole and lines next time, I tell myself. If only to catch better bait.

 

The winds are silent, I haven't used the sails in three days.

 

The climb towards the house is more labored with the bucket of lobsters. I stopped to gather sap from the frankincense and dragons blood trees.

 

Danyella is busy planting and harvesting the garden.

 

“I gave your aunt some Romano” she says

 

“Thats fine, I was waiting for it to age correctly, did she like it?” I ask

 

“She thought it was lovely, I don't think she ever expected it to be so good. I gave her some ragu to try out with it and the fucilli”

 

“Thanks babe” I replied happy because it was what I would have done.

 

“How many did you get?” She asks

 

“Enough” I reply with a smile.

[Milad]

Spring in d Galgodon Highlands, Hint of Frankincense, Wine for ur nose, Fish in the Traps, Lobster traps, Lobsters hide, Skid on d tiles, Bowl of Purple Figs sits, Honey Colored Sister, Gilgish scratches at d French doors.......I almost thot i was reading some poetry until u said 'Good Morning, Babe'.

 

I hope it was still enjoyable :)

[Milad]

Galgodon Highlands Part ***

 

I needed a shower to wash away the salt and heat.

 

The water cool, refreshing on the skin. My shoulders ached. Sore, stiff from the clearing of cliff face for a new terrace two days ago.

 

I should have worked a massage into the lobster deal.

 

I dry off, pick my old weathered v neck t shirt from the drawer. The smell fresh as new laundry.

 

Gilgish watches me from the bed. The evening breeze drifts through the windows, especially on the second floor and in particular the north facing windows.

 

He stretches out on the bed, on his back. Front paws reaching for the window. Almost human in his cat yoga. “Silly cat” I say.

 

She is in the kitchen. Wearing a linen white dress my aunt made her as a gift when we first arrived. Her breasts swelling, the fabric seemed to make them bigger more welcoming.

 

I walk behind her. Wrapping my arms around her waist. My face at the base of her neck. The smallest of kisses. She moans and presses back into me.

 

“You smell good” She says

“So do you” I reply As I breath her scent in again

 

Remembering our trip to Bath & Body Works before we left. Its a weakness of ours. It makes moments like these more enjoyable. The scent of lavender and honey.

 

“You want to eat, or fool around” She asks with a teasing annoyance.

“I vote, freaky sneaky” I retort playfully biting the space between her shoulder and neck.

 

She laughs. That familiar laugh, the sound now a fabric in the tapestry of our life.

 

Everything becomes distinct with lovers. Everything treasured.

 

“You be good and dessert will follow”

“Yes, ma’am” I sigh

“Set the table, babe” She says

 

I open the cabinet and reach for two plates.

 

“You mean this table?” I tease

 

Caressing it with my hands like a Price is Right model caresses a bottle of Tide Liquid Detergent. Proud of my handiwork.

 

“Yes, that table” She laughs

 

Gilgish wanders in. Jumping on the table to take his place at the far end.

 

I set the cutlery. Evening fast falling. The air carrying the smell of sea, forest, and hint of wood smoke from the neighboring town. Miles away.

 

The birds still chanting. Call and answer. Gilgish is tempted to go out and stalks near the door.

 

“What did you make?” I ask

“Lobster curry and cauliflower rice” She says as she spoons the sauce into a dish.

 

I spoon portions of cauliflower rice into the plates and return them to the table.

I grab the chilled Tej from the ice box. Contraband acquired on our last trip to Jijiga, Ethiopia. Alcohol being illegal in Somaliland. I made sure to pack some in dark olive oil containers. Customs being not as thorough. T.I.A!

 

“Getting crunk” She says laughing

“Shyt, we coulda got arrested for this, we might as well” I say laughing

 

“Oo babe,my show is on tonight” She says, excited at remembering

“All I know is Arya better finally get revenge or I am going to cry” I say out of desperation

 

She smiles at me. I reach over for a kiss. Her lips tasting of Garam. Our eyes lock, silent recognition of a want passes between us. Game of Thrones will have to wait.

 

Ok so I need some feedback do I continue? constructive criticism.....

[dequeen]

I like! But let's get to the main story, I c more of describing here. Nice write up!

[Milad]

This is the main story. Two women on vacation in a home they built. Perhaps its to personal, filled with mundane day to day living. Too much like a diary entry to be entertaining.

[Iris]

Lol ok. I read part 2 almost immediately after u posted it. Cldnt get past d first few lines. Lobster traps ws confusing me and i dint knw who Gilgish ws. Also, ur characters arent as real as d events u described. U shd bring them more to life.

 

I dint read part *** cz i'm not dat intelligent. It wld stress my brain out trying to figure out d main point of ur story. Then again, there r typos in it, u omitted a number of words.

 

Ur story isnt bad. Users who find hunting a fun activity wld find it interesting.

[Milad]

Thank you. I will try to add more dialogue. Also can you tell me where the mistakes are? I was going for something along the lines of a movable feast hence all the descriptions. Gilgish is the cat.

[Iris]

If i told u my English was bad i'd be contradicting myself.

[Milad]

Thats alright no ones perfect :) Let me know what you find.

[Malawi]

its a lovely story

love d fact that its still open and can take a twist anytime.....

do continue :D

[Milad]

Bare with me gaddamit I havent written erotica before.

 

Part 4

 

I woke up, face nuzzled in the back of her neck. The warm breeze kissing our skin. Sheets dangerously low on our bodies.

 

I moan into her neck, reminded by our lovemaking. Pressing my lips into her skin urgently, as if I could with it, express the ache in my heart. The ache of being aware that we aren't making love now. Missing her already.

 

She grinds her hips into me, moaning awake. I kiss her shoulder and caresses her arm. The breeze seemingly following my caress.

 

“Good Morning” I sigh

 

“Good Morning” She says reaching, grabbing a handful of my ass.

 

I laugh, she rolls her eyes.

 

“Don’t judge me” She says softly coming in for a kiss.

 

Her lips are soft, taste of wine and lovemaking. My tongue lingers, a soft gentle lick on her bottom lip before taking it into my mouth to suck.

 

She bites my upper lip as I do, and turns to face me fully. I slide my right thigh between her thighs. An intake of breath as I kiss her. Endeared at finding her soaking wet. She caresses my cheek acknowledging her need and my awareness of it.

 

I kiss her deeply, pressing our bodies together. Feeling her nipples hard against my own, moaning into her mouth, as my tongue caresses hers. A deep needful, moan. Recalling the taste of her sex. Soft, wet and welcoming. I am hungry for her again.

[Milad]

Galgodon Highlands Part 5

 

Ilad was lower in elevation. Winding hills, valleys, trees and brush. I brought the rifle.

 

Stories passed down of uncles fighting lions bare handed, grandmothers fighting hyenas keeping precious sheep alive in deep droughts left an awareness akin to anxiety.

 

Hyenas were rare now, lions nearly a dream.

 

If anything I kept it for bandits. Local men hiding in the vast mountains to escape punishment for petty crime, sometimes not so petty crime.

 

I didn't tell her that, not yet anyway. I was high born, any attack would cause a clan war, many in these mountains owe allegiance and kinship.

 

Danyella laughs when I shoulder the rifle.

 

“You know I’ve seen kids throw rocks to keep them off” She says playfully

 

“They haven't watched National Geographic, those things are vicious, or the Lion King for that matter” I cut back

 

“We’re gonna look all new and shyt” She says in her Detroit accent

 

“We are new”

 

“I wanna blend gaddamit” She protests

 

“Shyt if you wanna wear a burqa in this weather be my guest” I say laughing

 

“You know what….” She cuts off

 

I was already the resident Xarami (Sinner), for wearing pants, not covering my hair not to mention my gigantic breasted African American live in “friend”. Or the bathing suit fiasco.

 

She wanted to visit my aunts to bring them fruit pies and get to know my family. I remained aloof, not quick to welcome people into our life.

 

Somali people have a bad habit of showing up at odd hours without notice and lingering. I valued our privacy.

 

Ilad was in a valley with wider ground. There was a mosque, a small tea shop with a tv where only men gather, houses, communal gardens, and thorny corrals for the animals some larger than others. Families kept chickens but it was rare, sheep, cattle, and camels being preferred.

 

Large palm trees lay at the edge of the mountain encircling the little town.

 

There were springs bubbling below ground my grandfather diverted to turn into irrigation canals feeding the communal gardens in the 1930s. Before then the nomadic wells were used. Many wars were fought for the wells.

 

Animals grazed on the hillside, I wished they would corral the animals as they feed from organized fields. Change is hard for many.

 

This was the part I didn't enjoy. The stares. Occasional giggles, sideways glances. I suppose it's natural when you’re new in a place sparsely populated. It gave me a sense of being violated somehow, perhaps I am too shy.

 

My aunt Chawahiir spots us and waves from her window. Her home a bright pastel pink she picked out in Hargeisa on our last trip.

[Milad]

Galgodon Highlands Part 6

 

Aunt Chawahiir opened her large wooden door, decorated with flowers and geometric shapes. My grandfather had it especially made for my grandmothers bride price and passed down from my grandmothers house, it was still in fact my grandmothers house.

 

“Sogala (Come in), Sodawada (Welcome, but literally means to come closer)” She says

 

My aunt Asha echoing the welcome from her floor cushion, Arabic seating that ran round half the large room that was their living room. A bench with shoes under it and prayer mats on the other end. A clock on the wall and various Arabic writing mostly of Ayatal Kursi or Surat Al Fatiha.

 

“Hello, Iska Warama” Says Danyelle in her new found Somali, she had been practicing with aunty cha for a while.

 

“Ahhh, Fiican macan” (Ahh, well sweetheart) laughs aunty cha, pleased with herself and warmed by Danyelles attempt

 

“What have you brought?” Says aunty in her heavily accented English

 

“Pies” Says Danyelle smiling, proud of her baking

 

I set down the pies on the table. Apple, Pear and Lemon. Aunty Asha and Cha gathered around to smell it.

 

“Qhatar weyane saxibadadu, sirtayde taqanaye” (Your friend is dangerous, she knows my weakness) says Asha smiling as she dips a finger in the exposed middle of the lemon pie.

 

“Thank You!” They echo in unison

 

“Farta kada, aynu goyne” (Get your finger out, we need to cut it) Whispers Aunty Cha.

 

Both of their faces now so close to the pies, both too busy with the pies as we seat ourselves.

 

Danyelle giggling pleased at herself. Watching the two elderly women whispering in an unknown language arguing over their new found pies.

 

Suddenly, there is yelling from the street, frantic banging on doors. Theirs is not spared.

 

“Allah, waa maxay”? (God what is it) Says Asha

 

“Warr fura”! (Open up) A young voice pleads

 

There is someone younger crying with the voice.

 

I open the door, now everyone looking out the window, a few men in the street.

 

I walk into the street, approach the young man, seems to be around 10 or 11 years old panicked. His hair is wild and has bits of dirt and plants in it. He has the signature high Somali forehead boxed not rounded, deep set eyes, and a nose that connects to it. Nostrils flaring. His clothes dirty with dust.

 

The little girl still sobbing clothed only in dirac (a small flowing cotton gown), well worn and tattered. Her hair is also wild but straighter than the young mans making it seem even more unkempt.

 

“Eyar macan” (Easy sweetheart) I say “Wamaxay”? (Whats the matter)

 

“Naqariya” (Hide us) He pleads

 

Shocked by his request I rush him into the house. I wanted to tell him it would be alright but I dont think he would listen, probably running off. I told him to wait inside. Aunty Asha gesturing for them to sit down.

 

Danyelle was already holding the little girl who had somehow found her way into her arms.

 

“Babe, what is going on”? She asks

 

“I dont know” I say

 

“Bess macan, ha oyin” Asha says as she taps the young mans shoulders, he wasnt crying before, but now he was and it was enough for my aunts to hold him. Boys from an early age are not encouraged to cry in the Highlands and this small gesture of vulnerability was enough to break my aunts.

 

There was yelling in the street again, this time men.

 

I walk into street this time with my rifle. Three men approach the village. One in a wadads (arabic/islamic) white robe and red turban signifying his rank as some religious leader. The other two in pakitani style long khamis and pants. The two carrying AK’s.

 

“Aweye”? (Where are they) The wadad asks

 

I stand in middle of the street in their way, now the men in the town in the street as well as some women.

 

“Qhamri bu ibiya ee, nasiya, rrina wu iga xade” (He sells mountain hooch, give him to me, he stole a young sheep from me as well) says the man too angry to see that the boy was clearly destitute, probably trying to survive.

 

I get in his way as he tries to enter the house. I draw my rifle.

 

“Dib uu kac, saxib” (Back off friend) I tell him as stern a voice as I can muster.

 

“Na dhila yahe, iga hora bax” (Get out of my way whore) he chuckles

 

I fire at his feet, reload, being thankful for bringing the pump action double barrel today.

My cousin Sahal is out of his house now behind the two other men with his AK pointed at them.

 

“Diga” (Drop it) He whispers

 

Unknown to me my aunt is also behind me with her AK, the barrel of the gun far off to the left of my vision.

 

“Ma toog iyo saqhran baad qarinaysan”? (You would hide a thief and a drunkard) He asks wild eyed and angry

 

“Laba Ciyal baan ilalinaya” (I would protect two children) I reply

 

“Socda!, taag!” Leave, go, screams Sahal

 

The wadad looks on, at me once, my aunt and thru the room at the children, Danyelle and Asha. Filled with hate and shame at being denied vengeance. Something dark stirs in his eyes. A man enjoying the fear of children. It sickens me, scares me and angers me at the same time.

 

“Walays arki dona dhilayahe” (We will see each other whore) He says in a whisper filled with malice.

 

My aunts gun now closer to him for the insult. An old women past sixty with an AK and willing to shoot his balls off. I love her for it.

 

“Manta igu filan, taag” (Today was enough, go) I reply

 

They disappeared as fast as they had come. Into the western horizon.

 

Sahal approached me only now realizing he was still in his underwear.

 

“Walal, kaas iska chiir, wa walan yahe” (Watch out for that one, he’s crazy) he says

 

“Miya”? (Is that so) I say with a laugh

 

“Orod intanad habaryarha cawarin” (Go before you blind your aunts) I say with a giggle

 

“Waad mahadsan tahai walal” (Thank you brother) I say as he walks off, the AK resting on his shoulders his wrists hanging from the ends.

 

“Kaasi marku hoyadees kaso baxaye ina latoro bey ahaid” (That one should have been thrown away at birth) he says gesturing at the direction the men had come from.

 

“Walee, haddad toogan lahaid qofna mu kushegin” (If you had shot him, no one would bare witness against you). He says as he walks to his front door into his wifes arms.

 

“Waa runtis” (He’s right) my aunt says behind me

 

“Galab wanagsan” (Afternoon) I say as they head inside

 

He nods

 

The rest of the villagers head inside a few still standing outside whispering in amusement. Too ready to enjoy their lunch and forget about the momentary disturbance from the local religious nutter.

 

The little girl is busy stuffing her face and crying at the same time. Trying to stuff her face in between panicked out of breath sobs. Danyelle trying to calm her as she eats. The boy thanks me and my aunt hugging us both.

 

“Fadhista, Fadhista. Cuna, baal sug aan roti, foul iyo shah na idin so sare” (Sit, sit and eat!, let me go get some pita, bean sauce and tea” Says Asha sensing they hadnt eaten in a while.

 

The boy sits, looks at his feet ashamed of the allegations. Wondering, if we after feeding him would be judgmental. Aunt Cha and I sit on either side and cut a piece of pie for him.

 

“Waxba maha macan, cun” (Its nothing sweetheart) Says my aunt

 

The little girl sits on Dannie’s lap trying to fit a large piece of lemon pie into her mouth while tears stream down her face. She looks at Dannie as if finally seeing her. She was so hungry before she could only see the pie. Dannie already busy trying to tame her hair.

 

I lock the door and wait for Asha to bring the food. Needing some tea myself.

[M2DD]

I read it word for word,it's cool,nice piece.Keep it up

[Milad]

Galgodon Highlands Part 7

 

We waited till night fall, magrib prayers. We walked in silence through the hills. There was dim light from the moon but trees, rocks, and the mountains made shadows in our path. The breeze coming in swift from the shore and funneling through the hills.

 

I was in the front, I knew the different paths through the hills and up the mountain to our house. Which ones were better for ambush and which gave us an advantage with cover. Sahal was in the rear with his AK, Dannie and the children in the middle. My aunt fished out another AK which Dannie now had in hand.

 

I had left the shot gun at my aunts and taken uncle Ranjel’s old World War II bolt action Springfield. It had a scope, the wood well worn, comforting to the touch. I wondered how well it worked as a hunting rifle.

 

We took many detours throwing off anyone crazy enough to pursue.

 

Finally the earth and stone two story home was visible as we descended through the terraces from the mountain. The moonlight blanketed the house below, white walls glowing.

 

It was a simple home. A large garden of raised vegetable beds and fruit trees surrounding the back half, terraced up the mountain, stone steps leading the way down to the garden from the mountain.

 

The flat roof, half covered with large wooden trellises shaded in Jasmin. Large red earthen flower pots in the four corners. Earthen stairs etched into the side wall leading down to the second floor. A large wooden door and four windows in the front. Two wooden framed windows on each side on the first floor. Large wooden french windows on the second floor, the master bedroom having a small balcony. Vines draping the front wall facing the sea.

 

I had brought out the flashlight and handed it to Dannie only a few yards from the steps, but this part was rocky and we would need to be careful.

 

We were tired not from the walking and climbing, but from the mental fatigue of having to be aware of our surroundings.

 

The large wooden bolt locked french doors in the back were undisturbed. I drew the keys from my pocket and opened the doors. Gilgish meowing to greet us. Sahal and I search the house.

 

“I will get the kids cleaned up” Dannie says

 

“I’ll get started on supper” I reply

 

Sahal sits down in the kitchen table and grabs a fig.

 

“I was scared there for a minute coming down the mountain” He chuckles

 

“Didnt trust a Dhaqancelis? (term used for Somalis living abroad who are viewed as non Somali)” I jest

 

He laughs

 

“I thought you were crazy when you were building this place, in the middle of no where, but it’s come along very well” he says as he walks around looking at the beems.

 

Gilgish following him, begging to be petted.

 

I had some fava beans we had harvested earlier last week and decided to make Ful (fava beans) with fried suqar (tiny cubed meat bits), it would be filling enough for everyone after that 4 hour hike.

 

I knew Dannie was tired, we took turns carrying Sagal, the tiny 2 year old hugging each person for dear life when their turn came. Dereche was tireless and silent. I suspect he knows more about these mountains than he lets on.

 

Sahal had deposited himself on worn leather arm chair in the living room, Gilgish in his lap purring.

 

Upstairs I could hear the water running in the bathroom, Dannie no doubt trying to scrub the children clean.

 

I set the table with a large bowl of Ful, and a plate of flatbread and individual bowls and cups. I mixed Vimto in a large pitcher with water and ice.

 

I signaled for Sahal to come to the table. Dannie coming down the stairs with the children.

 

The towns people had donated a few clothes that could fit the children, I reminded myself to give payment in appreciation to Sahal before he leaves, and also for him to acquire new clothing as he was heading into Berbera in a few days.

 

Dereche wore faded jeans and an oversized white dress shirt. It made him look skinnier than he already was. Sagal was given a long skirt, top and a hijab. We didn't let her wear the hijab, what would a 2 year old have to be modest about?

 

Sagal’s eyes lit up as she smiled, I think perhaps Ful was her favorite dish. They both sat down close together. Sahal smiling at them, teasing Sagal by playing with her hair.

 

Dannie sat down next to me tired. I knew she would be snoring tonight. I spooned the bowls with Ful and ripped the bread in pieces gesturing for everyone to start.

 

Dereche was careful in his eating, a child of 10, trying to be aware of everything, cautious of everything. He must be tired I thought to myself. Dannie must have had the same thought, reached to him, rubbing his shoulder and encouraging him to eat

 

“You’re in a nice place now, free from crazies” Says Sahal to the kids

 

“You have the sea and hills to play in, perhaps Milad will take you fishing” He added.

 

“Can you swim”? I ask the boy

 

“A little” He says drinking the Vimto

 

“I can’t” Says Sagal licking her fingers, I spoon more into her bowl, for someone so tiny she sure can put away food. Dannie and I exchanging happy glances, she is adorable.

 

“Well, we will have to teach you” Says Dannie

 

“What about sharks”? She asks in a little squeal

 

“We will stay in shallow water” I assure her, she shrugs

 

“Well, before all of that she will be in the garden with me” Says Dannie, already taking possession

 

“Yes”! Sagal replies, excited at the thought of food.

 

“I guess its just you, me and the boat” I say to Dereche

 

“I have never eaten fish, our family were nomads” He says

 

“What's your clan”? Asks Sahal

 

“Isaac, Habr Awal” Dereche replies

 

“We are Isaac as well, Habr Jeclo” Of course you probably know that, our western brother says Sahal trying to give the boy a sense of comfort and familiarity.

 

“What happened to your parents” I ask

 

“I dont want to talk about that now” He says

 

Sagal stops chewing and goes silent

 

“Well thats enough talk for tonight, finish your food” Says Dannie sensing the tension, as she fills their bowls and cups.

 

“It’s ok you’re safe now, easy sailing, two westerners to take care of you, like Bradgelina”? jokes Sahal, his satellite tv clearly having a bad effect.

 

Dannie shaking her head at the comment but unable to stop herself from laughing.

 

“If I catch you quoting Desperate Housewives Sahal you and me are gonna fight” She playfully says

 

“I want to do nasty things to Kenya” He laughs

 

“Aw hell naw”

 

After dinner I got bed linens for Sahal as he would be in the living room on the sofa. We would sleep in shifts just in case.

 

Dannie busy trying to get the kids to use the American style toothbrushes instead of the local miswaks. Readying our bed to accommodate her and the kids. She doesn't feel safe leaving them in the guest room tonight, not just yet.

 

I secure the locks downstairs and head up to the rooftop.

 

By now finding my night vision binocular headset.

 

There was only one way down from the mountain and it was narrow and troublesome with loose rocks.

 

If someone was coming down that in the dark or light it would be dangerous and the noise evident. The sloping mountain face was surrounded on each side by sheer cliffs making it hard for anyone to catch you by surprise.

 

The only approach would be by sea and even then the climb gave us the higher ground.

 

Dannie appeared after a few hours draped in a shawl, wearing her yoga pants and brought tea.

 

“I thought you could use this” She says

 

“Thanks sweety, how are they sleeping”? I ask

 

“They were tired, so was I, as soon as my head hit the pillow I was out.” She explains

 

“I bet. I was proud of you today, that isn't an easy hike and I was afraid for us” I say

 

“It sure was hard but we would have come back this way anyway, so its ok” She says to comfort me.

 

“Yea, but I bet you didn't expect to rotate carrying a 2 year old, and a gun” I reply, realising this was supposed to be a vacation for us, I wanted her to rest, for both of us to rest. Now here we were with two kids on the lamb from deranged AfroTaliban. This was not what I had planned.

 

“I want to keep them” She says

 

“Honey, they aren't stray cats, they probably have family, at the very least their clan and distant relatives will assume parentage. Besides, we have to head back stateside.”

 

“I know but if we dont find anyone to take them, can we just keep them?” She asks

 

“Lets not put the cart before the horse, we don't know what happened, why they were in that state or what happened to their parents. Lets wait till we get the full story” I reply

 

“I know, but it really seems like they need a home, and I know we both want children” She says as she looks out into the night

 

I reach for her as we sit on the bench on the roof. The thought of children was always something we agreed on but I was worried these children had already grown up.

 

They didn't know us or our lifestyle. We were already being careful around others, it would be harder to be ourselves with two little eyes not far away in town but under our roof.

 

What would they think about our simple kisses, would we have to censor ourselves even in our own home. What would they say to others. I worried about things like that.

 

Dannie is a sweetheart and only saw the children, I loved her for that. She would make a wonderful mother.

 

“I know sweetheart, one step at a time” I say putting my arm around her and holding her to me.

 

“You should get some rest, I will be down shortly, Sahal should be up soon” I say

 

She kisses me, her eyes sleepy

 

“Ok, you shoot and ask questions later if anything happens” She suggests

 

“Roger that” I reply

 

She heads downstairs to get some sleep and I watch as she descends, thinking about our wish to have children.

 

Two hours later Sahal shoes scrape the earthen wall stairs that lead to the roof.

 

“Its nice out here, you can see on all sides” He says

 

Gilgish following his new friend

 

“I think your cat likes me” He says bending down to pet the cat

 

“We don't get many visitors and he loves being petted” I reply

 

“Get some rest, me and my furry friend will keep watch”

 

I hand him the night vision binoculars adjusting them for his head, I bring him a thermos of coffee and check around the house before heading to bed.

 

Dannie and the kids are in the bed, moonlight coming in from the french doors that open out into the small balcony. She isn't snoring, I notice.

 

I sit on the chair beside the french door window, I make sure to turn the safety on the rifle as I rest my legs on the ottoman.

 

I want so much to lay next to her, to spoon her and fall asleep to the sound of her breathing but we have company.

[mifled]

First time i stumbled on this story...was like hell no i aint reading this cos it really looks abstract

Forced myself to read today and im glad i did. Nice write up

[Milad]

Galgodon Highlands Part 8

 

Dannie must have gotten up before me. The smell of frankincense and spiced tea filling my nose and waking me from deep sleep. Dereche was still sleeping and still. The kind of sleep one gets when too tired to care.

 

I saw the cloaking the mountain slope and shore as I looked out the window. slowly shouldered the rifle and walked as silently as possible downstairs.

 

The smell of frankincense and tea getting stronger as I head down the stairs. Dannie is in the kitchen pouring tea into a thermos. The french doors open leading to the garden, the voice of Sagal and Sahal laughing finding its way into the house.

 

“Morning babe” Dannie says

 

“Hey sweetie” I reply with a smile and a quick kiss, making sure to kiss her as deeply as possible before we are seen.

 

“Mmm” She says pressing our bodies together.

 

We pull apart unwillingly, this was what I was afraid of. Censoring ourselves in our escape, our vacation home. Life has a way of throwing you curve balls, you just have to keep swinging to clear them.

 

I lean against the opposite counter to watch her. She’s making Laxoox (pronounced lahooh, glutaral) .

 

I am proud of her, it took me ages to learn it. Mainly, because I grew up hating the fermented sort. Laxoox is the Somaliland version of Injera or Canjeelo in Ethiopia and Somalia respectively. Our version is usually not fermented for more than a day or at all, making it less sour and often topped with butter and honey or sugar and eaten with tea for breakfast, never in savory dishes.

 

She spooned the batter onto the flat skillet spreading the batter with the bottom of the spoon, covering it with a hollow lid to let the bubbles rise.

 

I wanted to kiss her again, to hold her against me and just talk. She must have noticed and walked over pressing against me to reach for plates in the cabinet behind. Kissing me gently.

 

“I miss you” She whispers

 

“I miss you too” I whisper back, putting my arms around her waist. We always said that, whispered those words when words fell short of that aching need to be physical.

 

I drew in for another quick kiss before helping with breakfast. I placed the rifle on the kitchen island and spooned the butter on the finished laxoox, drizzling the honey on them.

 

I took out two plates to Sahal and Sagal on the back garden. Dannie carrying the tea tray. It was a chilly morning as all mornings in the mountains. Sagal was playing with the flowers in the garden and eating the sweet lemons from the lemon trees. Dressed in winter woolen hat and one of my sweaters. I would need to find her a jacket. She looked so tiny.

 

There was a story of an Italian deserter in the second World War that settled in these mountains, married a local woman and planted these lemons on the hills. I was delighted to run into one a few years back when searching for a plot to settle. A deer payed me no mind as it ate from the tree. I was surprised to find the lemons not acidic but sweet. Now they were in our garden. I wondered where the Italian had disappeared to.

 

Sahal sat on the long bench and table that served as a backyard dining table. He was peeling a lemon with a knife and eating the skin, they were that good.

 

“Haye, I hope you’re hungry” I say setting the plates down.

 

“Malin Wanagsan (Good Morning), the fog is clearing, slowly” He says looking out below.

 

Dannie sets the Tea tray in the middle of the table and goes back to get more plates.

 

“Sagal, come and eat” She says as she heads into the kitchen

 

Sagal skips over to the outdoor table and sits next to me on the bench. A giant lemon in her hand half eaten.

 

“Macan!” (Sweet), she says with a look of delight in her eyes, also surprised to find them sweet.

 

Dannie walks back with two extra plates and one full of more flat bread. I prepare a plate for Sagal and Sahal helps himself.

 

Dannie pours more tea, its warmth welcoming in the cool morning. More milk poured into Sagal’s cup than tea, Canoshah (C pronounced as Ein), milk tea as its called to keep children from having a caffeine attack.

 

Her little hands struggling to get round the cup, Dannie helps her. She rotates eating lemons ,flat bread, then tea. It was a system. Tiny hands working like an assembly line. After the third complete rotation she was stuffed, burped, licking her lips and sticking out her tongue at Sahal who was trying to keep up with her but lost interest after his second round. He was now nursing a cup of tea.

 

“Beaten by a 2 year old, Ninyaho (Man)” I tease

 

“Its rigged, I bet she feeds the cat under the table” He says looking at her with a teasing smile

 

“No way!” Sagal protests, “I did it by myself”

 

“That she did” Dannie says backing Sagal’s victory sipping her tea mockingly

 

Dereche appears at the corner of the door to the kitchen, I wave for him to join us. He walks quietly towards us and sits next to Sahal. Glad to see him wearing the sweater Dannie had laid on the bed for him.

 

I pour him some tea, Dannie places the honey, and butter closer to his plate. He starts to eat.

 

Sagal excited at her new find runs and gets him a fallen lemon. Requesting Sahal cut it up for him.

 

“Its sweet” She says to him. He takes it and starts to eat, just as before slowly, but now calmly looking around the garden.

 

The sun had started to peek through the fog which was now only confined to the very top of the mountains.

 

“I should head back, Maryam would get worried” Sahal says

 

I nod and head into the house to give him money for the villagers who were kind enough to give clothing for the children. I give him extra to buy more on his trip to Berbera and something for his family.

 

Dannie wraps some homemade cheese in a dry cheesecloth and lemon jam for his wife. I give him my extra head lamp, and batteries, in case the fog hasn't cleared on the southern slope. I suggest he heads back here if its too thick, better not chance it.

 

Gilgish wraps himself around Sahal’s feet as he heads towards the mountain.

 

Sagal runs up to him and puts her tiny hand in his asking if he will come and visit us again. He nods and says he will, Dereche thanks him and wishes him a safe journey back home. Dannie and I thank him as well.

 

We watch him, he waves and we wave back as he disappears into the pass.

We sit on the bench facing the garden, watching the children hand in hand exploring.

 

Looking into every raised bed trying to figure out what is planted. Collecting fallen lemons, figs, apples and peaches. Dereche now carrying the sweater which has become a pouch full of fruit.

 

They sit huddled on the edge of one of the raised beds surveying their crop inside the sweater. Talking quietly.

 

“What do you think they’re talking about” Dannie asks

 

“I have no idea, probably who gets what. Either that or how to kill us in our sleep” I joke

 

She laughs puts her arm around me and I snuggle into her. The sun now warming us, the fog and overcast sky quickly disappearing. Birds awake and chirping to abandon.

 

I kiss her on the cheek

 

“You better stop” She says smiling gesturing towards the children

 

“I am going to make pasta and hang some to dry, we’ve run out of the dried. She says to me, thinking about the daily things that usually occupied our life.

 

“I should head down, try for a few fish” I say, looking out onto the shore. My small skiff still there on the shore, sail neatly rolled on the mast that lay inside the skiff.

 

I fed the six chickens we kept with sorghum, slugs I found trying to eat my plants, 20 in total, a mix of wild greens and seed I had read were good for them. They seemed to like it. I harvested 8 eggs and set the bowl in the kitchen for Dannie’s upcoming pasta project.

 

Dereche was explored further up the terraced garden and into the hillside.

 

“Be careful” I yelled up to him

 

He nodded and waved in acknowledgement. Sagal had carried the sweater full of fruits into the kitchen, sorting them on the island. Dannie finding a large bowl to fit the fruit, putting the rest into the net container hanging from the ceiling on the wall next to the door, where we usually kept extra fruit.

 

Sagal didn't know what pasta was but she was already washing her hands and gearing up to help Dannie make some. Dannie had taken the wooden steps I made to reach the tops of the fruit trees and brought it inside so Sagal could reach the sink to wash her hands. Gilgish was next to the sink watching them.

 

 

I left them to it.

 

I went upstairs to change into swim trunks, bra and t shirt. I shouldered my rifle and got the large woven basket with the leather strap. I had asked my aunt to make one for me so I could haul my catch up the mountain. For payment, I gave her cheese and as many fish as she wanted.

 

It wasn’t hot today already past noon as I slowly descended to the shore, the dew still visible on plants in the shade of larger trees.

 

I loved this, the solitude. Nothing but birds, the sound of trees in the wind and the occasional Ibax and wild sheep that hung around further up the mountain.

 

It was a good day, the sun not burning my shoulders. I pushed the skiff on the planks leading to the ocean.

 

I had set them a few days ago, it was easier to get into the water. It was also better for me to keep the boat on dry land when not in use. Not risking it being lost if bad weather should hit and dash it against the rocks.

 

I swam out with the skiff the rest of the way and pulled myself up. I remembered how hard that was at first, now I was an old hand.

 

I reached for the trawling net (conical shaped net), one of the two nets I owned. I had watched lone fishermen on sailing skiffs use them in Zeila three years ago.

 

They would lay one of their oars horizontally lashing one of the rope ends to one side of the oar and the other on a V shaped wooden handle on the bow on the same side.

 

Then cast the net, they would swiftly lash the other end of the net on the other side of the oar and the last rope left on that side to the V shaped handle on the bow. Set their sail. From time to time checking on their catch.

 

I spent a few hours like that, watching the slopes from the sea. Guiding the tiller, only stopping to check the catch, striking out a few times. Only to start again, giving the net more rope each time.

 

I had finally made a decent catch, thirty or so fish I couldn't name but looked like fat graylings. I could only manage to fit twenty-five in the basket and threw the rest back in.

 

I gutted, cleaned, descaled and washed the rest in the ocean before packing them neatly into the basket. The waves slowly rocking the boat back and forth. I am suddenly filled with sadness knowing soon our vacation will have to end. Moments like these relegated to memory for a short time.

 

I sail back in, adjusting the sail.

 

I get closer to shore and tie the sail down against the mast, starting to row towards the planks.

 

I push the skiff towards the tree line and unhinge the mast, tying it securely onto the bow, then securing the wiring on the bow to a large trunked tree with a bolt lock. Perhaps I was being overly cautious, but it took me a year to build. It was the only way to haul things from neighboring towns on the sea. The mountains being too steep.

 

Dannie was hanging clothes on the line as I climbed the slope. Sagal and Dereche handing her clothes and clips.

 

The wood fire oven was finally being used. Wood being so precious I had opted for a solar powered home, but still built this outdoor oven. I wondered how the fish would come out.

 

Sagal ran towards me first eager to see what was in the basket. She was already poking it. I set it on the ground and opened it for her.

 

“Ahh” She screamed as she jumped back. Scared, not being exposed to fish, growing up mostly herding, and trapping. Dereche came to take a look.

 

“That is a lot” he says

 

“It sure is, nets are paying for themselves” Says Dannie as she comes over to take a look.

 

“How’d the pasta come out” I ask

 

“Good, got some drying” She says as she points to a rack with fusilli air drying in the sun.

 

“I helped curl them” says Sagal, excited her tiny hands could do so much.

 

“What does it tastes like” she asks

 

“You will soon find out” Says Dannie

 

“You should have seen them watching the washing machine earlier” Dannie says

 

“Oh, really” I ask

 

“Yea, they sat watching it rotate the wash, it was soo cute” She says

 

I giggle as I play with Sagal’s wild hair. Dereche already handling the fish, exploring their faces and trying to scare Sagal with them.

 

“Stop it, they will be soo delicious in a few minutes” Says Dannie

 

I set out six fish for dinner and pack the rest into the freezer end of the ice box. It looks like its going to be fish for a few weeks.

 

“So what are we having for dinner”? I ask Dannie as she starts to chop tomatoes and basil from the garden. Sagal stealing a basil leaf to smell, keeping it under her nose like a green mustache.

 

“Simple, I have some old bread thats dried out, I thought I could make tomato sauce and soak it with cheese and bread. Cook the fish in the oven with pepper and salt. What do you think?” She asks

 

“Works for me” I say, wondering if I could even make it out of the shower before taking a nap.

 

We sat around the table eating bread soaked and roasted in tomato sauce and cheese, slowly picked at the fish avoiding the bones. Dannie helping Sagal.

 

Dereche was a cheese lover, he couldn't get over the stretchiness of the romano and kept picking at it to stretch as he ate. I wondered what happiness he would know if he ever got hold of mozzarella on pizza.

 

Fish was a new taste for both of them, coming from a nomadic family. It was uncommon and looked down upon for nomads to eat fish. That was the old way.

 

They both took to it, being careful of the bones. Dannie and I helping them separate it, we spent a good four hours just talking and eating. Dereche eager to learn how to catch fish, amazed that they were so plentiful.

 

“I will go out with you next time” he says

 

“Ok, but you will have to learn to swim first, I have a life preserver but you will still have to learn the basics” I tell him

 

He nods, Sagal voices her desire to learn, it seems we will have a beach day. I wonder if my aunts and Sahal would like to join us. We could have his family come down to join us for a fish fry. Dannie agrees.

 

Evening falls and the sky starts to get dark. I make sure the embers on the oven are out. The clothes on the line slowly billowing in the wind. The smell of roasted fish, ragu sauce in the air mingled with the smell of sea, salt and the frankincense Dannie put on the burner.

 

She turns on the small tv we brought out here and puts on Mrs. Doubtfire for the kids. One of the few of the dvd’s we brought with us.

 

I come indoors and pour myself a cup of tea. I walk into the living room, feet bare on the cold earthen floor. Taking my seat next to Dannie on the couch. Sagal huddled into the other corner with a blanket and Gilgish. Dereche on the armchair with the sweater draped over his legs.

 

I suddenly remember the small tub of vanilla ice cream in the corner of the ice box. I had forgotten how we had tried to keep it from leaking in the heat as we bought it from Berbera on the skiff. I was more concerned about Dannie’s sea sickness than the ice cream to be honest.

 

I went into the kitchen and came back with three bowls. Dannie smiling seeing the scoops of ice cream.

 

“Whats that”? Asks Dereche

 

“Its called ice cream” I tell them

 

We sat there explaining the movie to them and watched them eat, giggling and filled with so many questions about what it was made of and why it was soo cold. Sagal screaming through her first brain freeze and Dereche suffering from his a few minutes later. Gilgish always trying to steal a lick.

 

Dannie’s legs draped over me as we watched the movie as we fed each other ice cream. I didn’t want this night to end.

 

It was getting late as the movie finished, Sagal was starting to fall asleep. Dannie took her in her arms and started up towards the guest bedroom. I asked Dereche to help me with the ice cream bowls in the kitchen. We washed them and talked about the movie. He was starting to open up.

 

Dannie was helping Sagal brush her teeth and Dereche had by now gotten the hang of it. Sagal thought the tooth paste strange. We had to explain that it was like soap for your mouth but that you could not swallow it.

 

We finally got them changed and into bed. I told them we were just across the hallway as we closed the door.

 

“I’ll be up in a bit. I just want to make sure everything is secure” I told Dannie

 

“Ok babe, come up soon” She says

 

I check around the house and make sure the doors are secure. I go up on the roof and take a look around for a few minutes. The hillside still and quiet.

 

I lock the door to the roof and head to bed.

 

Dannie is in bed, candles lit, waiting under the covers with nothing but a smile. We would have to be quiet. I would have to….I didn't care I missed her. For the past 4 months I could count on one hand the number of days and nights we had not made love, they were few.

 

I locked the door behind us, with a smile got into bed and greeted my wife with a kiss.

[Milad]

First time i stumbled on this story...was like hell no i aint reading this cos it really looks abstract

Forced myself to read today and im glad i did. Nice write up

 

Thank you for the kind words I hope I continue to live up to them. :)

[dequeen]

the term "high Somali" what does that mean? what's the difference between the forehead boxed square and the rounded one? am still reading, so far am loving it.

[Milad]

the term "high Somali" what does that mean? what's the difference between the forehead boxed square and the rounded one? am still reading, so far am loving it.

 

 

I am not good with facial descriptions but I need to add more to the story so people can imagine the people in the story, its hard to explain without pics, its one of the ways southern somalis from somalia proper and northerners/Landers aka Somalilanders tell each other apart. Well most north western somali clans (Isaac, Isse, Gadabiirse) and their Afar and Oromo (jigjiga, diri dawa cities in ethiopia where they live) counterparts which are different ethnic groups but still related share common facial features to distinguish each other from say southern oromo or somali

 

 

[Milad]

The Galgodon Highlands Part 10

 

The wadaad covered his face with his cimama (turban) to keep the dust from his nose. The ancient Landcruiser’s air conditioning had long broken down. The heat on the plains already unbearable the only relief was the air flowing past the window as he drove. The roads weren't paved and the dust was thick.

 

He was a tall man, lanky. His face was hard to place, silent and unforgiving. His eyes and mouth the only tells to the man deep inside.

 

The back of the landcruiser was filled with large plastic bags containing Qurans in Somali, flimsy Islamic mp3 players only programmed with Quran, Hadith and Tafsiir.

 

He also carried basic medicines, a few first aid kits, and dvd’s of radical clerics rambling on about how the Jews ran the world, how the Mehdi and Islamic Jesus would come and fight them in the end times creating every muslims wet dream, the Islamic Third Reich.

 

He pulled his car up above one of the smaller hollows as he neared the mountains. He needed to stretch his long legs and smoke. He looked around the hollow below and above. Scattered with bushes here and there. He heard goats off in the distances and walked towards the sound.

 

There was a scream along with the baing of goats. He said nothing and walked towards the sounds. Men spoke in hushed voices, he could hear them, not making out the words, not seeing them. He ventured closer quietly, the brush getting denser the further up the valley.

 

Two men stood around a young woman, one pulling up his pants. The other watching as he held her arm down and beats it with a rock. The third was forcing himself on her. She was crying and trying to scream.

 

Abdullahi watched, a sinister grin crossing his face. Not the easy smile he would give those he would spread the deen amongst. No this was the smile behind the smile, the motive behind the action. His hand reached for his crouch and groped his member through his robes.

 

The men stood around talking, the girl beaten, raped but still alive. They had decided that she would die. She was too weak from the beating to move as she listened to them but she started to whimper and beg for her life as they grabbed loose rocks from around the hill to stone her.

 

They were merciless, aiming at her already broken body. Rocks making contact with fragile bones and flesh.

 

Abdullahi face darkened and his eyes grew wide, with every scream he grew aroused. This was not something that scared him, none of this disturbed him.

 

‘Thats right, you bitch’ he thought as dust mingled with blood with every rock that struck her.

 

‘Thats right boys, show her’ he hated the local girls, most women in fact. It wasnt only their rejection of him and his memory of it making this moment enjoyable but something deeper.

 

‘Kufar bitch, come on boys finish it’ he said under his breath

 

The hard and bitter grimace turned darker still as the sounds of rocks hitting flesh and bones intensified. Her short agonizing screams turned whimpers, turned into silence.

 

A shot rings out. “Animals!” Yells a man in traditional clothing with a gun as he comes charging down the valley from the other end. Coming across the horrible scene while trying to come down from the hills above.

 

The men scatter up the hill face in silence and quickly. One of them visibly wounded in the back.

 

Abdullahi crouches down and tries to take better cover behind the brush nearby as he tries to leave as quietly as he came.

 

On the other side of the hill face above Abdullahi, where the man came running with the gun stands a young boy and girl well hidden but witness to all.

 

The man with the gun, comes back to the girl, takes his large traditional white shawl off and wraps it around her broken body and starts to carry her away. As he does he whistles a distinct sound and a boy and little girl emerge further up the trail.

[Milad]

Actually this was part 9 guys sorry for the confusion