Matiaf

On the early morning of 19th November, the local Red Crescent Society left from Hadibo to reach Matiaf, near the Eastern edge of the island, Indian Ocean coast. My assistant and I have been kindly invited to join the mission, which objective was to provide medical treatment to the local population, as well as training in a number of disciplines concerning prevention of some diseases and basic first aid techniques.

To arrive to that fishermen village of about 400 inhabitants, you need to cross the island from North to South, through the central highlands. Most of the route is on the asphalted road connecting the Arabian Sea to the Indian Ocean, which reminded me that a friend is waiting for my visit in his Punjabi homeland. Then you have to drive through a track of stones up to Mahferhin. There, some fishermen took the whole delegation (and the materials we had along) on three small fishing boats to Matiaf.

It is a beautiful place and the welcome of the local population was just as nice. Useless to say again how amazing were the white sand beaches and the turquoise colour of the sea; pointless to discribe the beautiful night sky I could see above before falling into Morpheus' arms.

Still, it was the first night I felt somehow alone and away from my friends, scattered around the world. Blame it on the urgent need of sharing the beauty of the place with those I miss, or on the fact that my neighbours were having a long, hilarious sleepingbag chat in Socotri, but for a while I felt uncomfortable. After having spent some time in weird places, I should be used by now to this feeling, but I guess that such blues can never be avoided. Some psychologists have studied this phenomenon, and it seems that no matter how many missions you have behind (and keep in mind to charm possible grand-children!) or how long did you stay away from friends and relatives, such feeling always appear, sooner or later. The best you can do is to keep them under control and diluate them with good times and laughter with the people you are with.

So this is what I did, starting from the morning after. I must say that it was not a difficult thing to do, because the camp was full of charming people, who always made sure that in any difficulty I would face, they would be right behind me and help anyway they could: by giving me their sandals to walk on the rocky sea bottoms, or preparing philtered water just for me and my delicate, foreign organism...

The three days and two nights I spent there went fast. The people of Matiaf do not see very often foreigners in their small community, above all if obviously Western-typed. The teacher of the school invited my assistant and me in his small class-room to say hello to the children, and the leader of the community invited us for tea in his house. I also had wonderful dinners with my colleagues, and even managed to share some jokes with them. I guess they somehow felt on themselves the blues I could not manage to hide the first night.

I even had the chance to make short walks on the shore, along beaches and cliffs, and made my incredible discoveries: part of a whale’s skeleton (a rib was more than three metres long, a vertebra like a fresbee) and the carrions of two dolphins. Sorry for this last unpleasant detail, but still it is something that does not happen to me every day…I just hope next time the dolphins I shall see will be jumping around the boat, like in the TV serials for children…

I had a great time in Matiaf, and I hope that my promises to be back soon did not sound false, for it is really a pleasant place to be. Still, for not too long: I ended up missing my bed and, most importantly, my bathroom.