Posted on 06/10/2004 12:34:53 PM PDT by propertius
The dodgiest passports in the world
Jun 10th 2004 | MOGADISHU AND NAIROBI From The Economist print edition
How people with no government get their travel documents
NO SOUVENIR-HUNTER'S trip to the Somali capital, Mogadishu, is complete without a visit to the Big Beard shop. Tucked down a dingy alley in the Bakara Market, not far from the weapons stalls, the Big Beard develops photographs while you wait, and can rustle up a “genuine” Somali passport for just $30.
At least, Mr Farah, the proprietor, claims they are genuine. He has a proper laminating machine, and he rescued an official seal from the rubble of the foreign ministry, which was destroyed 12 years ago. Clients are offered a variety of backdrops for their passport snaps. Your correspondent went for the jungle green one, awarded himself a generalship and was pleasantly surprised to discover that he had been born in Mogadishu.
Mr Farah's clients are mainly Somalis who have scraped together enough cash to try to escape their lawless homeland. But a number of terrorists and dodgy businessmen are also taking advantage, to the alarm of neighbouring Kenya; in April, President Mwai Kibaki's government announced that Somali passports would no longer be recognised.
Peeved, some Somali warlords retaliated by banning Kenyan passport-holders from the bits of Somalia they control. This, however, would only affect Kenyans who both wish to visit Somalia and have actually managed to obtain a passport from the Kenyan authorities, which, even with the right contacts, can take a year and cost $1,000.
Somalis, meanwhile, are finding ways around Kenya's non-recognition of their travel documents. On a dusty airstrip outside Mogadishu, 22 of them piled into a tiny cargo plane after paying $300 to the pilot, who, strictly speaking, wasn't supposed to be carrying any passengers at all. With another $100 tucked into their new passports for the friendly immigration officials in Nairobi, they happily perched wherever they could. Your correspondent's lap was as good a place as any for one elderly gentleman. As the plane swayed and groaned on its ascent, the Kenyan pilot turned on a cassette player. “I'm leaving on a jet plane/don't know when I'll be back again,” John Denver crooned into the sweat-drenched cabin.
Ah here it is:Far from the madding crowd
Mar 4th 2004 | MOGADISHU
From The Economist print edition
Well, far from other tourists, anyway
HE HAS perhaps the world's hardest job, but very little to do. Abdi Jimale Osman is Somalia's minister of tourism. His inbox is always empty; unsurprisingly, given that his anarchic homeland has not had a single officially acknowledged tourist in 14 years.
Somalia is not without attractions. The sun shines, the beaches are sandy and you can dine on lobster on the roof of the Sharmo Hotel, which commands a splendid view of the capital, Mogadishu. It is not safe, however. The Sharmo advises guests to hire at least ten armed guards to escort them from the airport.
Since civil war broke out in 1990, Somalia has been divided into some two dozen warring fiefs. But Mr Jimale is undaunted. “Tourists can still go and see the former beautiful sights,” he says. “The only problem is they're all totally destroyed.” Your correspondent admired what was left of the cathedral. Graffiti outside warned “Beware of landmines”.
Mr Jimale wants donors to help rebuild Somalia's national parks, though they mainly lie in areas the government does not control. “Most of the animals have disappeared too,” he concedes, “Because we have eaten them.”
Brave tourists can find unusual bargains in Mogadishu. In the market, a hand grenade sells for $10, a Howitzer for $20,000. For those who remain unconvinced, Mr Jimale is reassuring. “I'm sure tourists would leave Somalia alive and I'm hopeful they wouldn't be kidnapped,” he says. “At least, we would try to make sure they were not kidnapped, although it can happen.”
heh
I remember reading the Observer column in the New York Times about Somalia while sitting in the middle of Mogadishu. It was 1987, and things were getting a little unsettled. The column was titled "Mastering the Mogadishu Saunter...". The guy from the times was just passing through, and his whole column was about how easygoing and nice everybody was. It made Mogadishu sound like some kind of African sun-drenched paradise where nothing ever happens.
Six months later they were stacking the bodies like cordwood and all Hell had completely broken loose...
Remember when the Lion was the King of Beasts. Now its just food for a starving nation.
"Passports?!! We don't need no stinkin' passports!!"
Man, that was awesome!
Adventure tourism ping.
Stay safe !
I've even gotten a chuckle out of a CHP officer...
lol....the thought of an overloaded D-18 on a dusty strip in the 4th world did strike the nostalgia chords...
...not to mention lobster dinners, private beaches and discount weaponry for the taking.
Reservations anyone?
I thought it would!
Before or after he caved in your skull with his nightstick?
Disclaimer: Opinions posted on Free Republic are those of the individual posters and do not necessarily represent the opinion of Free Republic or its management. All materials posted herein are protected by copyright law and the exemption for fair use of copyrighted works.