On Friday, my colleagues and I accompanied US Embassy staff to Arta Plage, which is 15 miles beyond the site of my last entry. Past the French military men, standing in line formation in their white booty shorts, and green-clad US Marine crews setting up drills on the same coastline, we parked our three white Land Cruisers in the shade of a hill. The terrain is like something out of the Arizona desert - dusty wadis (ravines) and flat prickley acacia. With a tarp strung between two trucks, and another pop-up tent down the beach, we joined French and Djiboutian weekenders in the warm, still, salty soup. I was able to borrow goggles, and later a snorkle, from others to view the fabulous coral reefs under the unassuming waves. Tropical fish in electric blues, greens, yellows, orange. Wow. It was my first snorkling adventure, and not one bit disappointing. Of course, the tide went out and thrashed me against the reef, so I have battle scars to show for it.
On Saturday afternoon, after a solid morning of meetings, a colleague and I joined the US Embassy's van trip to Decan Refuge [http://www.decandjibouti.com/]. This is a French repopulation project just south of the airport, past the garbage dump and beyond American Camp Lemonnier. They let us in to the open range to visit domesticated gazelles, oryx, wild ass, ostriches and zebras. "Let them walk near you, but please don't try to pet them." They even let us into the feeding corridor to view their 5 cheetahs up close. Frankly, we did need to be reminded not to try to touch them, as the wild cats were purring and rubbing just like my kitty back home.
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