It’s been one month.
One month in the land that has witnessed almost each major era in the history of human kind; one month in the land of Arab generosity, kindness and rigid traditions; one month in the land that has a history full of strong and inspiring female ruling figures, warriors and queens; one month in the land where man has chosen to try cattle’s food and adopt it as his daily cup of coffee; one month in the land of tribal conflicts, socialist revolutionists, desperate refugees and northern rebels.
I arrived in the capital of Yemen, Sana’a, with great enthusiasm to embark on a new experience hoping for it to be rich in adventures, knowledge and stories to share with others in the future. Indeed, my hopes have been greatly met for Sana’a specifically and Yemen in general has so many hidden secrets, ups and downs that I have and will experience for the following months to come.
In Sana’a, I’m viewed as a foreigner. Many think that I’m not even Arab and start welcoming me with the little English they know or use “book” Arabic so that I can understand what they’re saying (!). Others, yet a few, can tell that I’m Arab, although none could tell that I’m Palestinian. Upon my arrival to Sana’a, I was bewildered by the huge difference in attitudes between people (especially men) in the Old City compared with those in other neighborhoods (the latter considered “high end”). The difference in treating a veiled single girl walking down the street (yet not wearing the black abaya or covering her face) lies in the perceptions and interactions which range from polite, indifferent or just curious in the Old City versus aggressive, insulting, teasing and arrogant in the “new” areas of Sana’a; and thus came my decision to find a house and live in the Old City.
It was by mere coincidence that I found my house in the Old City. One night after dinner with my boss and his wife, and while I was waiting for a cab to pick me up from the dinner’s venue, I randomly ask the guard, who was waiting with me, about a house and viola! There’s one just across the street from the hotel. And so I got to live in the place I fell in love with the first time I came to Sana’a one year ago.
The Old City of Sana’a…
A wild mixture of Turkish/Yemeni history and architecture with high rise buildings all clustered so close to each other neighbors can actually tell what is going on in each other’s houses! With magnificent window designs, colored glass “qamreyyat” on top of the windows and antique wooden Jewish made doors, the Old City takes your breath away. The city’s bustling narrow streets, with children playing around senior Sanaani men and women roaming the different “harat” (neighborhoods) to visit one another and run their daily routines never fail to entertain me (I don’t think I will ever need a TV here!). Souq Al Melh, Souq Al Baqr, Souq Al Hameer, Souq Al Najjareen, Souq Bab Al Sabah and Bab Shaoob are just some of the famous market places you can find confined within the seven gates of the Old City (gates that are no longer existent just like Old Damascus). Naturally, the Turkish influence is not only seen in the window designs but also in the few yet busy Hammams they have established and left behind.
My house in the Old City is well.. really old! The structure from the inside is of a typical Sanaani house: 3 stories, high steps leading to each level, small decent rooms, small kitchen and a roof. It is considered big by many for one person, yet I found it very reasonable as I can easily accommodate visitors and sleepovers. Settling down in the Old City (and in Sana’a in general) is I must say not easy given the holy month of Ramadan and the weird working hours that come with it (many things get done at night and not during the day). Of course, that shouldn’t be a problem anywhere else in the world. But, in Sana’a it’s another story given the unpredictable power cuts that come with living here and hence nights can pass by without getting much done at all because of the lack of electricity. This is surely more challenging with the slow and lazy attitude people generally have in Ramadan due to the gap time needed after iftar to chew Qat and relax and then get to business at which time we might have no electricity to start with (!).
However, my pushy and demanding character helped me get most of the work done (yet not perfectly done) during this small amount of time and resources. I must confess that having workers chew Qat also helps since they operate with good and cheerful moods which I started calling the “Hakuna Matata” mood they get from the green bitter leaves soaking in their bulging cheeks.
Living in the Old City comes with its own challenges. My first morning at the new house was empty of water (!). I ended up washing my face, brushing my teeth and showering at the friendly hotel opposite to my house. Yet, that’s just one of the many challenges that the Old City carries with it. The frequent power cuts (4 times each day and 2 hours each time) and the lack of gas are additional difficulties, not mentioning of course the noisy streets (hence the need for ear plugs at night), loud and extremely noisy mosques and naughty children knocking on my door every now and then.
Nevertheless, the world is never empty of genuinely good people. My little gang of lovely hotel staff at the Arabia Felix hotel that hosted me for 11 nights before my move, are indeed my second family in Sana’a. A group of young men working vigorously at the hotel, with sincere manners, a great sense of humor and pure hospitality, I am so used to sitting with them, eating with them (especially during Ramadan) and even answering their English language related questions. I'm also lucky with the little group of foreigners I've met here from different parts of the world. My French, Dutch and Tunisian neighbors, my Welsh boss and his Canadian wife, my Australian colleague have all made great effort to make me feel welcome in the Old City. Meeting a group of Arabic learning foreign students has added to the limited yet valuable social life here for the young and carefree spirited discussions we have every time we get together.
I must confess that Yemen is not easy. In fact, that is an understatement (!). Still, life is not a full basket of perfectly ripe red cherries. With all the challenges that the past 30 days have carried with them, one month has taught me a lot and I know for a fact that this experience with its memorable ups and many downs will be a rich and an unforgettable one.
Sana'a
7.8.2009
