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.

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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.”

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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.”

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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.”

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