'HERDSMAN TO TOWNSMAN': Somalian Professor Describes His Unconventional Life. By Merve Fejzula
What are the essential components of snow? It sounds like a chemistry question, but when one's only frame of reference is the desert climate, the problem is especially difficult.
For professor of African Studies, Said S. Samatar, this was a very real issue as he was writing a letter to his mother from the States and did not know how to explain snow.
He created a "compound Somali word out of the words for sand dune, cold, and wet," he said. This effort to explain and elucidate has characterized much of Dr. Samatar's life from the sand dunes of Somali Ethiopia to the snow of the United States.
"I've lived a life of segmented improbabilities," wrote Samatar in an article he will publish later this year titled "Herdsman, Townsman, American: My Segmented Life."
He was "probably" born in Ogaadeen, the eastern region of Ethiopia that consists mainly of Somalis. It is only "probable" because he is not sure of the exact details of his birth, but he does know it was to Faduma and Sheikh Samatar. His total family consisted of fourteen people, including his father's other wife, Pullo.
Samatar's life in these hamlets was characterized by the "unfettered freedom" of life as a nomad and its "wandering and danger." The "seasons of plenty" brought "fragrant flowers blooming all over the fallowed fields, abundant milk and meat." Stallions, the ubiquitous camels, flocks of sheep and goats, and deer complete the picture.
Oh, and the lions, too. For to ignore the danger of this environment is to deny an important part of it.
Samatar came to know the worries that constantly plagued these herdsmen: "perennial threat of starvation during droughts, marauding gangs of enemy clans bent on murder and mayhem, stripping you of your livestock, the ever-present danger of ravenous predators."
In 1958, Samatar made the first transition of his life, going from nomadic life to town life in Qallaafo. At about 16 years old at the time, his father, an Islamic magistrate for the government since 1948, sent for him to begin schooling.
Having begun relatively late, he was a 16-year-old learning among eight-year-olds. "It was humiliating, but I endured," he remembered.
The boys practiced writing with chiseled twigs and dipped them in ink troughs to scratch out the letters. With this knowledge, they memorized the Quran and learned Islamic philosophy and jurisprudence.
Then he began attending an elementary school run by the Sudan Interior Mission. The rest of his schooling was much less defined by routine. After skipping middle school and rushing through high school at the Bible Academy in Nazareth, Ethiopia, his primary education was completed.
The contrast between his Islamic and Christian teachings only helped him, he says.
"This was enormously enlightening because these two sciences, the Islamic and Christian ones, are at once cousins, but also disagree on certain points."
After school came work, beginning in 1970 with American librarians at the National Teaching College in Somalia. There, an American friend suggested furthering his education at a university in the United States.
Working for one more year to save money for a ticket, Samatar arrived in 1971 on scholarship to begin his studies in Goshen, Indiana.
Since he had worked with Americans in Somalia, he was familiar with American mannerisms. It was in Goshen that he had his first encounter with snow.
When winter did come, he said, "I stuck my face out the window - the blast - I thought it knocked off my nose."
Samatar had arrived in the US with his wife, who was pregnant with their two children. While working for 6 hours during the day as a welder, Samatar attended early morning and late night classes.
"I remember there were times when I stayed up all night studying," he said. He finished in 2 years by taking 18 credits a semester and testing out of other courses like Arabic.
With a history and literature degree in hand, Samatar was accepted at Northwestern University and obtained his Masters there.
For his dissertation, he went to London and was given a one year grant, whereby he returned to Somalia for field work.
On his first trip back since leaving, the political climate had vastly changed. In 1977, the Socialist parties had come to power in both Somalia and Ethiopia, and the result was a climate of fear and suspicion.
Samatar came close to being arrested several times, were it not for the intervention of relatives in security positions in both countries. As a student, he had been involved in anti-government groups, which needed to be hidden from the government if he were to continue.
In 1978, he returned to the United States and finished his PhD work the following year in 1979. A job offer came up that September from Eastern Kentucky University in Richmond, Virginia, where he taught from 1979-1981.
Whenever he would "goof up," he would apologize to his department chair by providing his pastoral life as the reason for his occasional "backwardness."
"Four dispensations of civilization's eras were missing from my cerebral chamber," he joked. "No wonder I was something of a freak."
On July 1981, an offer came from Rutgers-Newark, and its proximity to New York City was the clincher: he accepted the post and has remained here since.
Edward Smith, a 41-year-old senior, described Samatar's teaching style as "deeply penetrating. He tries to convey only the essentials. If you're of a different culture, he's very responsive to that."
Samatar now serves as the evaluator of the Somali programming on Voice of America. In addition to his numerous other publications, he is often cited by the news media on Somali issues.
In 1987, Dr. Samatar became editor of the journal Horn of Africa, a post which he still maintains today.
So now "from a nomad to an editor," Samatar continues to add to his story.
By MERVE FEJZULA, OBSERVER STAFF WRITER.
Issue date: 12/9/08,
Source: media.www.rutgersobserver.com'HERDSMAN TO TOWNSMAN': Somalian Professor Describes His Unconventional Life. By Merve Fejzula
What are the essential components of snow? It sounds like a chemistry question, but when one's only frame of reference is the desert climate, the problem is especially difficult.
For professor of African Studies, Said S. Samatar, this was a very real issue as he was writing a letter to his mother from the States and did not know how to explain snow.
He created a "compound Somali word out of the words for sand dune, cold, and wet," he said. This effort to explain and elucidate has characterized much of Dr. Samatar's life from the sand dunes of Somali Ethiopia to the snow of the United States.
"I've lived a life of segmented improbabilities," wrote Samatar in an article he will publish later this year titled "Herdsman, Townsman, American: My Segmented Life."
He was "probably" born in Ogaadeen, the eastern region of Ethiopia that consists mainly of Somalis. It is only "probable" because he is not sure of the exact details of his birth, but he does know it was to Faduma and Sheikh Samatar. His total family consisted of fourteen people, including his father's other wife, Pullo.
Samatar's life in these hamlets was characterized by the "unfettered freedom" of life as a nomad and its "wandering and danger." The "seasons of plenty" brought "fragrant flowers blooming all over the fallowed fields, abundant milk and meat." Stallions, the ubiquitous camels, flocks of sheep and goats, and deer complete the picture.
Oh, and the lions, too. For to ignore the danger of this environment is to deny an important part of it.
Samatar came to know the worries that constantly plagued these herdsmen: "perennial threat of starvation during droughts, marauding gangs of enemy clans bent on murder and mayhem, stripping you of your livestock, the ever-present danger of ravenous predators."
In 1958, Samatar made the first transition of his life, going from nomadic life to town life in Qallaafo. At about 16 years old at the time, his father, an Islamic magistrate for the government since 1948, sent for him to begin schooling.
Having begun relatively late, he was a 16-year-old learning among eight-year-olds. "It was humiliating, but I endured," he remembered.
The boys practiced writing with chiseled twigs and dipped them in ink troughs to scratch out the letters. With this knowledge, they memorized the Quran and learned Islamic philosophy and jurisprudence.
Then he began attending an elementary school run by the Sudan Interior Mission. The rest of his schooling was much less defined by routine. After skipping middle school and rushing through high school at the Bible Academy in Nazareth, Ethiopia, his primary education was completed.
The contrast between his Islamic and Christian teachings only helped him, he says.
"This was enormously enlightening because these two sciences, the Islamic and Christian ones, are at once cousins, but also disagree on certain points."
After school came work, beginning in 1970 with American librarians at the National Teaching College in Somalia. There, an American friend suggested furthering his education at a university in the United States.
Working for one more year to save money for a ticket, Samatar arrived in 1971 on scholarship to begin his studies in Goshen, Indiana.
Since he had worked with Americans in Somalia, he was familiar with American mannerisms. It was in Goshen that he had his first encounter with snow.
When winter did come, he said, "I stuck my face out the window - the blast - I thought it knocked off my nose."
Samatar had arrived in the US with his wife, who was pregnant with their two children. While working for 6 hours during the day as a welder, Samatar attended early morning and late night classes.
"I remember there were times when I stayed up all night studying," he said. He finished in 2 years by taking 18 credits a semester and testing out of other courses like Arabic.
With a history and literature degree in hand, Samatar was accepted at Northwestern University and obtained his Masters there.
For his dissertation, he went to London and was given a one year grant, whereby he returned to Somalia for field work.
On his first trip back since leaving, the political climate had vastly changed. In 1977, the Socialist parties had come to power in both Somalia and Ethiopia, and the result was a climate of fear and suspicion.
Samatar came close to being arrested several times, were it not for the intervention of relatives in security positions in both countries. As a student, he had been involved in anti-government groups, which needed to be hidden from the government if he were to continue.
In 1978, he returned to the United States and finished his PhD work the following year in 1979. A job offer came up that September from Eastern Kentucky University in Richmond, Virginia, where he taught from 1979-1981.
Whenever he would "goof up," he would apologize to his department chair by providing his pastoral life as the reason for his occasional "backwardness."
"Four dispensations of civilization's eras were missing from my cerebral chamber," he joked. "No wonder I was something of a freak."
On July 1981, an offer came from Rutgers-Newark, and its proximity to New York City was the clincher: he accepted the post and has remained here since.
Edward Smith, a 41-year-old senior, described Samatar's teaching style as "deeply penetrating. He tries to convey only the essentials. If you're of a different culture, he's very responsive to that."
Samatar now serves as the evaluator of the Somali programming on Voice of America. In addition to his numerous other publications, he is often cited by the news media on Somali issues.
In 1987, Dr. Samatar became editor of the journal Horn of Africa, a post which he still maintains today.
So now "from a nomad to an editor," Samatar continues to add to his story.
By MERVE FEJZULA, OBSERVER STAFF WRITER.
Issue date: 12/9/08,
Source: media.www.rutgersobserver.com
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