Rachel Pieh Jones's Archive

The Hard Work of Unemployment

By / April 2013

Women cooking over open fires in front of huts, men cutting hair with razor blades, children sorting trash. These are the faces of Djibouti’s jobless.


Bread for the Body, Bread for the Soul

By / February 2013

Rachel Pieh Jones on Djibouti’s baguettes: “I was not prepared for the bread man. I thought it was a dying bird that awoke me every morning.”

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Djibouti the Beautiful

By / January 2013

Rachel Pieh Jones finds splendor in the Djiboutian desert: “The girl and camel are no mirage. The garbage can’t out-shadow the flowers or the volcano.”


The Mourning Feast

By / December 2012

Rachel Pieh Jones visits a funeral in Djibouti: “She returned with a smaller bottle of stronger perfume, smoky like burning flowers and cinnamon, and smeared it with her thumb on the backs of our hands.”


Let the Rain Tap the Metal Roofs

By / November 2012

Rachel Pieh Jones on the rainy season in Djibouti: “There is no lightning, no thunder, only wind and blooping rain and the chants of kids, cheering down the rain.”

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Dust on the Djibouti Trail

By / September 2012

Rachel Pieh Jones goes running in Djibouti: “A camel leaped into my path, startled by my footsteps. We eyed each other. She stepped aside, stretched her neck, and nibbled on a yellow plastic bag tangled in a thorn tree.”