Scuba Diving in Berbera

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  Berbera, Woqooyi Galbeed, Somalia
Saturday, December 19, 2009

I headed to Berbera this past weekend (Thursday and Friday) and came
back with as many seashells as I could squeeze into two hands, several
new British phrases, a "proper" (farmer's) sunburn, slightly discolored
Birkenstocks, and some "significant" time under the ocean (around 30
minutes). Despite the fact that the locals had warned us about the
winter conditions, we noticed the immediate increase in temperature as
we neared the city. The rest of the weekend was quite windy, but still
the temperature maintained its warm level to allow a refreshing plunge
into the Gulf whenever we entered. Although I needed to cover my
shoulders and thighs (and probably more), I spent whatever time I had
outside of diving or eating just relaxing on the beautiful, warm,
isolated beach. What's more, the beach was almost completely free of
tourists thanks to the reputations of Al-Shabaab and the Somali pirates.



It was my second time to the coast; the first one lasted just a few
short hours of hair free-flowing, gloriously warm water swimming and an
evening of consuming fresh fish. Three large derelict ships haunted our
backdrop. There were a just a handful more tourists at the time (98
percent men), and I was either shown how to "swim" ("when the wave
comes, just jump over it . . . like this.") or complimented. When I
asked why Somalian women didn't swim, I received this answer: "They
aren't interested in the sea." (Riiiight . . .) Needless to say, It was
with a heavy heart that I returned to my dear Hargeisa.



This time around, my main focus was on beginning my PADI (Professional
Association of Diving Instructors) certification. It requires four
dives and some other theory, instruction, and technique training.
Overall, I have to say that it was one of the most incredible
experiences I have had in a very long time. I enjoy the water, but
admittedly I have never liked getting my face wet and diving off a
board or boat terrifies me. 



I will spare you the nitty gritty details, but I "kitted up" and jumped
off a dingy boat with a friend and our instructor Steve (who, rumor has
it, left a successful career as a political journalist in the UK to
swim with the fish and dolphins in the land of pirates). Hesitant to
lean back and collapse into the water, I was allowed to crash face
down. After numerous attempts to sink the required 10 feet or so to the
bottom--I was practically hyperventilating trying to train myself to
breathe out of my mouthpiece and not my nose--I finally landed and was
greeted with the most beautiful schools of fish and coral that bordered
my small sandy patch. Struck by the vibrant purples and golds, I smiled
to myself as I noticed that so many of the schools shared a similar
color scheme but sported various patterns. It was as if they had all
gone shopping at the same location and wanted to match in a photo I was
mentally taking. (Forgive the cheesiness. I really have no idea how to
properly describe the scene.)



All in all, it was a most delightful weekend and I am looking forward
to heading back in the new year to spend more time under the sea.

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