Goodbye, Djibouti

what? when? why? what's next?

What: We are leaving Djibouti

When: July 2023

Why: Because…

What’s next: No clue

I’ve known this for quite some time and all my “real-life” people know it. I haven’t known when to share it in my writing spaces. That is one of many reasons I’ve pulled back from public writing during this season. But now feels like the right time.

Many of you have been reading along since one of my sisters told me to start blogging and built my first website in 2007. We had dial-up internet in Djibouti and it took several hours to load photos into emails. It was faster to post things on the internet for family to keep up with our life. In 2008 my first story was published in a now-dead print magazine called Get Born. The article was My Little Garbage Collector. By 2012 I was published in the New York Times, had a new website and a growing readership, and was working on a book. And on it went, all under the moniker Djibouti Jones.

And now, after nearly 21 years (20 years and 7 months to be exact, but I say I’ve earned the right to round up) in the Horn of Africa, this summer my youngest (the one born here) graduates from high school and we will transition to that exotic, wild, unfamiliar country of the USA. I first wrote “transition back to that exotic…” but I deleted “back”. We’re moving but we can never move back. We have changed. The USA has changed. We are moving forward.

There are many reasons to make this move now, the primary one being it simply feels right. That can be hard to explain but as we look at our family in the USA, our professional and spiritual goals for growth and contribution in the next season of life, the excellent people trained and ready to step into our roles here, and more, my husband and I have an abiding peace that it is time to go. Time for something new. Time for a new challenge and a new adventure.

What happens when the Jones is no longer in Djibouti?

These 20+ years have forever changed me, forever transformed the lenses through which I see and experience the world. I will not live in Djibouti anymore but my stories, my faith, my experiences will always be filtered through dusty decades in this place. The cliche is true, you can take the Jones out of Djibouti but you can’t take the Djibouti out of the Jones.

I don’t know what that means yet, not exactly. I have helped dozens of people leave here and transition to their passport countries. I have never done it. I have a lot to learn. I suspect it will be harder than I’m anticipating. I suspect we are more weary than we understand. I know we’ve experienced more beauty than I thought possible.

I will miss many things and many people. There are many things and people I will not miss. Lots to reflect on, celebrate, grieve, and cherish. Much of that will be just for me and my family. But, as you started and have been on this adventure with me for so long, I want to bring you forward, too.

I plan to spend the next few months alternating with the Stories from the Horn emails. Those come out every other week. On the opposite week, I plan to write more personal posts about those things I want to reflect on, celebrate, grieve, and cherish. Maybe just photos. Maybe some thoughts dreaming forward or reflecting back. Are there things you wonder about? Drop a question in the comments and I’ll try to address it.

For now, thank you for reading Djibouti Jones, Rachel Pieh Jones, the books and essays, some of them I am now embarrassed by and wish I could erase, some I’m still proud of.

The day before we left the USA, in New York City, 2003. I was 24-years old, only out of braces for 1.5 years, not old enough to rent a car, but parenting twins and off to Somalia.

My first kitchen, in Somaliland. You might notice the refrigerator. It was for storage, we only had power a few hours in the morning and a few hours at night. I would also like to note that I still have that pot - dented and charred but after we evacuated, it came with the random assortment of items eventually shipped to Djibouti (for more about all that, read Pillars) and it makes the best popcorn, though the cover is almost too warped to work, the handles wobble, and I will be leaving it behind.

Here’s to the next stage!