Immediately upon our arrival, however, I could sense that the extreme poverty and harsh living conditions would make this place ripe for revolution, and maybe these people were reluctant to talk about it for their own safety. It's strange to think about the possibility that people on a cruise ship, out in the middle of the ocean, may have better knowledge of what is happening inside a country due to high tech communications than the people who actually reside in the country itself.

To give you an idea of just how desperately poor this country is, a travel pamphlet I saw emphasized how unsafe and unwelcoming a place it is, and to say something like that in a tourist publication is almost unheard of! Usually, they can find SOMETHING good to say about even the most inhospitable of locations.

This brochure stressed the "shock value" of the local marketplace, where there is raw meat sitting out on the ground for sale, caked with flies. The pamphlet goes on to say that there are several restaurants in the downtown area that have tourist-friendly food, but "don't worry, their food does not come from the local marketplace!" I thought to myself, where does the food come from then?!!! The pamphlet had many disturbing statistics, such as the fact that the average life expectancy is only something like 45 years of age.

Approaching the Djibouti marketplace

Unfortunately, the brochure was true, and Djibouti was quite shocking. Nobody I met was anything that could be even remotely misconstrued as friendly. For example, if you try to take a picture you could be risking your life. My guess is that they believe it is bad luck to have their picture taken. I could only find one person who would consent to having his picture taken, and he was about 12 years old.

Me and Ping Xing Xu, a great Chinese dulcimer musician who was a featured performer on the ship, decided to take a taxi into town from the pier. Having seen nor heard any obvious signs of a revolution in progress (such as gunfire), we bravely ventured out of the taxi to have a look around. As soon as we stepped out of the cab, a boy of about 10 or 11 years with no legs started following us around and asking for money. He used his arms as legs, and had an old pair of flip-flop sandals as "shoes" to protect his hands. He was extremely persistent, and was smiling profusely the entire time he followed us.

The authorities always say that giving money to charitable organizations is much better than giving directly to beggars (which only encourages more begging), but it was tough with this boy. He really pulled at my heart strings. How could anyone not feel compassion for someone in this kid's situation?

A little while later, another boy tried to grab whatever he could out of my pocket and run, but he was unsuccesful in procuring anything. We walked around for awhile and finally found the infamous marketplace. Islamic African women with neon colored wraps swirled around chaotically in the intense midday tropical sun as they shopped for fruits and vegetables.

The infamous Djibouti marketplace - "spill in aisle two"

We saw pretty much all of what was being offered for sale, and it was quite meager to say the least. As we were leaving, a man in a policeman's or army uniform started to shout at a large woman who was selling oranges from a cart. It appeared that he was demanding a free orange from her, and she was refusing him. The shouting grew to a crescendo, until suddenly the man in the uniform turned over the cart in a rage, and then all hell broke loose. People were shouting and pushing in all directions, and I instinctively knew it was time to get out of there and head back to the ship immediately!

In a narcissistic moment, I suddenly remembered a novel I had read back in high school where a Caucasian traveler entered an African village, and upon seeing him everyone in the village started crying and weeping. The man misunderstood why everyone was crying, because he lacked the appropriate cultural context of the village he was visiting. The crying represented something totally different than what it appeared to be.

While this particular situation was totally different, I had to wonder if our presence here at the marketplace in Djibouti had somehow sparked this dispute. There is a really heavy pain and suffering vibe in Djibouti, and I couldn't help but think that even the sight of a western tourist could incite anger and jealousy .

We got in the first taxi we could find. On the way back to the ship, I saw the largest swarm of flies I have ever seen in my life. All of the rumors I had heard about Djibouti being the "fly" capitol of the world were now confirmed. What a trippy place!!