Jilib in 1966

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Main street. Minaret of the mosque is on the left. At the end of the street is the Italian administration building for the Lower Jubba. The DC's office is on the left and the post office on the right. The road jags to the right.
 
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The Italian-built Government School. The police station is in th background.

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The other two teachers are at the left.
 
My first home was in the compound of the wife of the Mayor, Mahammad Sheck Suleyman. It was cramped, airless and heavily infested with mosquitoes; but the people were nice and understood when I decided to move.

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The lady was Eileen Barthold, visiting from Jamaame.
 
The alley behind the houses.
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John Johnson, Heelo, of Indiana state is on the left. He worked with Musse Galaal and established the Somali collection at Indiana State. That is me, scratching my leg, in the middle. Sid Ali is on the right. He was director of the Agraria, paid most of the government salaries in the Lower Jubba, and was my second landlord. The boat and cable was how we got across the river to the Agraria and the Leprosarium. During late Jilaal it was possible to drive across the river at this spot.

Sid Ali visited me here in California during the summer of 1969.
 
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Building my arish. The Landrover belonged to Sid Ali. The smaller building is the kitchen and muskuul. I had a cement floor and big windows I could open. I bought water in fustos during the wet seasons but had to get water in drums from deep wells during the dry. Any cut of meat was a shilling a kilo. Eggs were kumi-kumi, the big Italian ones kumi-tano.
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Above:

My best friend, Abdi Salad Sugulle, Dheere. He was "Secretary" to the Russian Project west of Jilib and an English speaker. He told me the Russian director of the project was "also a nice guy." I have put out the word for years trying to find him, but now fear he died at Gezira Beach. Aun. He was Cumar Maxamuud.

Below:

This was about as formal as it got in Jilib. Caday Cumar is wearing toob Banadiir. It was considered patriotic, but was too expensive for most folks and not for everyday. She was a nurse and a wealthy lady in the camel trade.

Sid Ali was director of the Agraria and in charge of most national agricultural efforts in the Lower Jubba, including well digging and animal vaccinations. (Jilib had been the Italian administrative center for the Lower Jubba, which then included much of what is now Middle Jubba, and functioned that way in the 1960s. It was a big deal.) He was part of an agricultural observation and study group that toured the US in the summer of 1969 and we were able to have a nice visit. The mail stopped shortly after the Kacaan.

They are both gone, AUN, but their compound is still in the family.

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I have other photos, but they do not relate directly to Jilib. I will save them for another thread and another day.

If anyone has questions, I will now try to answer them.
 
Can i ask you something, sir? Did you date somali girl during your stay in somalia? And what was like your first date? :dabcasar:
And i really appreciate sharing these amazing historic pictures with us
 
Can i ask you something, sir? Did you date somali girl during your stay in somalia? And what was like your first date? :dabcasar:
And i really appreciate sharing these amazing historic pictures with us


I attempted to date a young lady by the name of Sultana, but was shot down. As a non-Muslim Ajnabi, it seemed I was off limits. Other Volunteers did have girlfriends and some even married. Attitudes seemed to vary from area to area. "Women" in the sense of s were available just about everywhere except Jilib. I once attended a party in Jamaame with most of the officials in town, and I hope that's enough said.

I spoke only a very limited version of Maxaa and was not even aware that Maay, Bxxn or Mushunguli existed. As a previously Italian-administered area, very few folks spoke English. The lack of an ability to communicate hindered any possible relationship, and eventually led to my early departure at the end of one year. I had become critically depressed after 10 months of isolation because of what the heavy rains that year did to the roads. It was not possible to get into or out of the Lower Jubba until August of 1967, and even then, the regular road was not passable. We had to take the beach from Baraawe to Marka.

The early PC administration was informed only by the materials in English written about the North. They missed the materials in Italian and Arabic written about the South. With the consequence that it took me a good many years to recover, and additional years here and on Somnet to acquire the history of the area I was sent. IMO, it was not a good show. They only began classes is Maay with group 8, 4 after mine. The country director was dismissed shortly before I arrived because he was more interested in researching the Ethiopoian border than with PC business.

All this is not to say that I was poorly treated in Jilib. I was very well treated, and had very good friends, some of whom I am still in contact with. It was the inability and lack of opportunity to communicate at a meaningful level that did me in. I felt I was spinning wheels and getting nowhere, that is was not possible to do anything with what I had. My plan was to get what I needed and come back. I was going to retire there, until the Kacaan and what came after.
 
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