Peter and I went ashore for the third time. On that occasion, the Captain told us to stay overnight and gave us money for our expenses. We checked into two single rooms in the Juba hotel on company expense. Juba hotel had a night club and both of us went in there. There was typical African style live music. There were hundreds of women of various age groups. We did not have any problem finding dancing partners. Peter had brought with him the bottle containing the stuff which he had bought in the Suez canal; Spanish Fly. Now he wanted to try it on one of the girls. Peter poured the liquid into a beer glass of one of the girls, without her knowledge. It did not take long for the girl to get drunk and collapse on Peter’s lap. We decided the best thing was to get the hell out of that place and we moved out. However, we had spent quite a long time because when we left the night club it was about 2.00 a.m. Both of us had consumed copious quantities of beer and were quite high when we got back to our rooms.
It turned out to be an evening full of fun, especially after the episodes in two ports in East Germany. Sea life could be very boring and depressing, too, if not for activities that we create for ourselves.
When we went for breakfast in the hotel as usual, the menu was presented to us. Although it was a fantastic menu card, there was hardly anything to order. We both had the usual fried eggs with a lot of bread.
We could see the future of that country from the way the stevedores handled the cargo. Most of the bags fell into the sea. Later we came to know that it was not an accident but it was the Managing Director's order to complete the loading of the cargo soon. It was a very sad sight. The cargo was coming on as an aid package from the United Nations to build that country.
I observed that the stevedores were almost starved. The shift was to change in every 24 hours and the only food I saw them eating was some thing made out of flour with boiled corn. All the remaining food, after the ship’s crew had eaten, were given to them. They came in groups, just put their hands covered in cement into the containers and had their share. It was a pathetic sight. I went ashore few more times before the ship sailed from Mogadishu. Somalia had been under the Italians for some time. The time we were there, I observed a lot of Somalis embracing Islam. Mogadishu, the capital city was in a very poor state.
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