Red Sea in the Gulf of Aden, north of Djibouti. The weather was very humid and
hot, so we set-up our military folding bunks outside on a lava field in order to
sleep. Our guide made a fire and we were ‘‘protected’’ by two military guards, who
were assigned to the group by the local authorities in case we ran into any difficulties. This was an illusion because the so-called rebels were well equipped and at
ease in their territory. But that was the rule imposed on us by the local government
in Djibouti.
As we pursued our expedition deep into the Afar region along a rubble road,
each stop was marked by the encounter of local people standing in front of the
convoy. It looked like the people had ‘‘suddenly appeared, out from the rocks’’.
Usually there were just a few men and some children who were begging for water
and medicine. The rocky landscape is where this local population lives and hides.
Jean-Louis, with his previous experience in the region, had anticipated the beggars, so he had organized our supplies to carry surplus water, flour and medicine to
distribute during our journey.
Further away, as soon as we arrived in a greener region with water-filled ponds,
the panorama changed suddenly, and there were no more people standing along
our path. The flat plain seem deserted until we noticed a cloud of dust rising in a
distance. Horsemen arrived from no-where. They were local, armed personnel on
horseback, who were galloping towards us while we were busy with our camping
gear. Jean-Louis appeared to be relaxed and he seemed to know the chief of the
‘‘rebels’’, probably from his previous trips to the region. We were looking at the
horsemen and they observed us for a moment, when suddenly the chief dismounted
from his horse. This was a good sign. He approached Jean-Louis and shook his
hand before welcoming the rest of us. He asked for medicine and some flour to
make bread. One beautiful Afar woman, who was the chief’s friend, had a large,
fresh gash on her chest. Apparently she was wounded and the chief asked us for
help. We gave him some antiseptic cream and a few aspirin pills to attenuate her
pain. We do not know if she remained alive after they left us.
Our group started to settle down for the night. While we were deploying our
gear we saw a single-engine airplane circling around our heads. The plane’s
passengers were obviously trying to see who we were. After making two turns in
the sky, the monoplane landed on a flat area and two men climbed out. One was
tall and heavy, wearing dark sunglasses, and he had a big cigar in his mouth. He
approached our camp and asked us if we had seen any starving people around. The
men told us in English that they were from the Red Cross, based in Switzerland,
and that they had a lot of food waiting to be given away to the starving population
at a main crossroads, a few tens of kilometers away. I was disturbed by their
attitude and told them that if they wanted to find the starving local people, then
they had to be on the ground and travel along the rocky paths instead of looking for
them from the sky.
While we were getting settled, we saw an antelope running along the rocky
desert. When the cook of the expedition saw the animal he told us, with a big
smile, that he could make a good meal if someone were willing to hunt it down.
Jean-Louis shot the animal with a rifle and the Afar cook’s helper ran towards the
The FAMOUS project: The Mid-Atlantic Ridge near 37°N
175
hot, so we set-up our military folding bunks outside on a lava field in order to
sleep. Our guide made a fire and we were ‘‘protected’’ by two military guards, who
were assigned to the group by the local authorities in case we ran into any difficulties. This was an illusion because the so-called rebels were well equipped and at
ease in their territory. But that was the rule imposed on us by the local government
in Djibouti.
As we pursued our expedition deep into the Afar region along a rubble road,
each stop was marked by the encounter of local people standing in front of the
convoy. It looked like the people had ‘‘suddenly appeared, out from the rocks’’.
Usually there were just a few men and some children who were begging for water
and medicine. The rocky landscape is where this local population lives and hides.
Jean-Louis, with his previous experience in the region, had anticipated the beggars, so he had organized our supplies to carry surplus water, flour and medicine to
distribute during our journey.
Further away, as soon as we arrived in a greener region with water-filled ponds,
the panorama changed suddenly, and there were no more people standing along
our path. The flat plain seem deserted until we noticed a cloud of dust rising in a
distance. Horsemen arrived from no-where. They were local, armed personnel on
horseback, who were galloping towards us while we were busy with our camping
gear. Jean-Louis appeared to be relaxed and he seemed to know the chief of the
‘‘rebels’’, probably from his previous trips to the region. We were looking at the
horsemen and they observed us for a moment, when suddenly the chief dismounted
from his horse. This was a good sign. He approached Jean-Louis and shook his
hand before welcoming the rest of us. He asked for medicine and some flour to
make bread. One beautiful Afar woman, who was the chief’s friend, had a large,
fresh gash on her chest. Apparently she was wounded and the chief asked us for
help. We gave him some antiseptic cream and a few aspirin pills to attenuate her
pain. We do not know if she remained alive after they left us.
Our group started to settle down for the night. While we were deploying our
gear we saw a single-engine airplane circling around our heads. The plane’s
passengers were obviously trying to see who we were. After making two turns in
the sky, the monoplane landed on a flat area and two men climbed out. One was
tall and heavy, wearing dark sunglasses, and he had a big cigar in his mouth. He
approached our camp and asked us if we had seen any starving people around. The
men told us in English that they were from the Red Cross, based in Switzerland,
and that they had a lot of food waiting to be given away to the starving population
at a main crossroads, a few tens of kilometers away. I was disturbed by their
attitude and told them that if they wanted to find the starving local people, then
they had to be on the ground and travel along the rocky paths instead of looking for
them from the sky.
While we were getting settled, we saw an antelope running along the rocky
desert. When the cook of the expedition saw the animal he told us, with a big
smile, that he could make a good meal if someone were willing to hunt it down.
Jean-Louis shot the animal with a rifle and the Afar cook’s helper ran towards the
The FAMOUS project: The Mid-Atlantic Ridge near 37°N
175