Meeting the Sheik

The morning arrived to the tune of braying donkey and screaming children. I was invited on an early morning walk to the water hole with some local women, tried to speak using my school arabic, and had them folded over with laughter. Not sure if they were laughing with me or at me...
Breakfast of course was beans, bread, cheese, and tea. Then we gathered our meager belongings, hopped into the trucks again, and headed out the rough mountain road to the house of the Sheik! When we arrived, Mohammed was manning the giant bulldozer, dressed in traditional garb, and pushing giant boulders down the road from the Sheik's house. The house itself was huge, especially compared to the one story made-of-mud houses that are spread around the region. The Sheik's house was four stories, with a beautiful mafraj on the top floor. The house itself was on top of a high plateau, so being in the mafraj with the huge windows was like sitting on a cloud looking down on the countryside.

The Sheik, much younger than I thought he would be, was in a 'meeting' when we arrived. We spent our time until lunch walking around the top of the plateau and looking at the scenery. The wind was blowing hard and the view went forever - something out of Lord of the Rings - with qat. After we returned to the house, the Sheik let us shoot more guns!
Lunch was tasty, the girls we fortunate enough to be able to eat with the boys. Rice, lamb, potatoes, salta, aseet, bint al-sahan. After lunch the men stayed and chewed qat and napped.
(One of our teachers, Ramsey)
The four girls went into the main house to visit the sheik's wife and were lead up to the glory of a mafraj. The wife, Ourz, was originally from Sana'a, had had an arranged marriage to the Sheik, and was one of the smartest, most down-to-earth and clearheaded women I've met in Yemen. She spoke very clearly so it was easy for us to carry on a conversation. We had tea, ate cookies, played with her two youngest children (she has five, but told the Sheik 'no more!'). We also were treated to perfume and incense. After a couple hours with her, we unfortunately had to leave and head back to Sana'a. After a weekend of rather depressing visits with women, it was wonderful to meet someone as unique as Ourz.

So that was the trip!

Since returning to Sana'a from Beyt Qatina, we have had several adventures. I was invited to lunch at a student's house. The family spoke in the arabic dialect spoken in Ibb so I had very little idea of what was being said. The food was amazing, traditional Yemeni. The old grandmother insisted that I eat enough to roughly double my body weight. After lunch I sat with the men for a few minutes and then went and joined the women's room. I was taken in by the sister of Jalal, my student, and doused in perfume, had my hair brushed, and (in true Emily fashion) had make-up almost forcefully applied to my face. Big Katie and I discovered later, when I arrived home looking like a clown hooker, that this is the kind of makeup that is not FDA approved in the states because it contains strange chemicals to keep it from (ever) being removed. I decided that day would be the best day to wear the niqab for the first time. So Big Katie and I went shopping for jambiyyas in disguise! We did pretty well, haggling in arabic in order to buy our jambiyyas for much cheaper than was originally priced.

The next day we headed to the Hotel Movenpick, where the best ice cream in all of Yemen is. It's a monstrous Swiss hotel up on the hill overlookinn Sana'a. We had been a couple times before, and Big Katie had read that they were going to show the Olympics there, so we went to watch the opening ceremonies. After failing to show us the opening ceremonies, and having to face what Big Katie calls her "angry white woman face", we were treated to a day at the Movenpick spa! Now, I can't say I'm much of a spa girl - but I have never felt so clean.
My last couple of days in Yemen have been spent finishing up teaching (with a heated discussion on who is better, Iran or Israel? The Arab viewpoint is much different than mine - I think we're working off of different information), shopping about for last minute gifts (a giant poster of Ali Abdullah Salah, President/Dictator of Yemen for myself), and wandering around the Old City.
Tonight I leave for Roma. Since Sana'a is such a huge international hub, and Yemenia's nine planes take up so much room, it's necessary that my flight leave at 12:01 am. Hmmm, maybe not so necessary... But I will be out of Yemen and in Rome by tomorrow morning. The summer has been an amazing cultural experience, great for my arabic. But there is a flank steak waiting for me in Baltimore, as well as a wisdom teeth removal. In 10 days I will be home - al-hamdu lallah!

Thanks!

Hiking into Paradise

As with all backcountry trips, we arose with the sun at 530 am to a wonderful breakfast of cheese, bread, and tea. Today is our 'strenuous' hiking day and the plan is for us to 'go for a walk' (as the British say) for about 5 hours to a natural spring located in the bottom of a deep wadi (valley) called Hamman al-Ayun. After another very bumpy ride, we stopped at a farm in the middle of the perfect horror movie setting, dismounted from my cab-top throne, and headed off into the wilderness.

We crossed over the first set of small hills and opening up before us was a landscape that rivaled the Grand Canyon, if not in color then in shear colossal size. The group quickly separated into smaller hiking groups. I was hiking close to the front with the tribesman. You know the saying, “If you’re not the lead dog the scene never changes”? My view was of a goat on the back of the tribesman in front of me. While I was aware that this was actually the only thing on the menu for lunch, I was unable to keep myself from forming quite the relationship with it. Poor Jemima.

About an hour and a half after starting to hike, we completed our descent into the wadi and you will never guess what was there! In the middle of desert/mountainous Yemen! A river!
Hammam al-Ayun is a natural spring that erupts from the mountainside to form a river flowing down the valley through the massive boulders and over stones of every color imaginable. Blue, purple, orange, yellow, pink, green, shiny black. The river was interspaced with shallow ripples and waist deep pools big enough to float in. As the rest of the group arrived, all the boys got into their swimtrunks, the tribesmen went into the river in their shorts, and hooray for the girls once again swimming in shorts/pants and tee-shirts. But the water was incredibly refreshing after the hike down, and the giant boulders were perfect for laying in the sun to dry off.
Jemima kicked the bucket and soon was in a pot boiling for lunch. There was plenty of time for exploring, swimming, napping, and talking. Around noon (we arrived in the wadi around 9), the tribesman called us in for tea and goat! Yum.

What better way to celebrate your lunch of recently bleating goat than by shooting guns. Ak-47’s to be exact. Until recently, men carried their AKs everywhere with them. In the countryside, in the middle of Sana’a, it didn’t matter. A couple of years ago, carrying an assault rifle in the city was made illegal, but in the mountainous countryside, everyone and their mother has a gun. (‘Like who?’ ‘Farmers.’ ‘Yeah? Who else?’ ‘Farmer’s mums.’) Well, maybe everyone and their son. Anyway, while I had held a gun in Al-Hajjarain, this time I was able to shoot one into the opposite side of the wadi. Ah, the power.

After the tribesman had had their qat time, we started hiking out of the canyon back to the cars. The group separated again and strung itself out across the hills. The first group, about five of us and most of the tribesman, trucked it up the hills pretty quickly. A couple of us contented ourselves with playing the famous person name game in order to keep our minds off the hike. The tribesmen chose to smoke cigarettes while hiking almost straight up the mountains. These men are nothing but muscle – machines!

We reached the farm in about 2 hours and had some time to spend with the family at the farm house. Tea or qat? Tea please.

Everyone else made it up to the farm as the sun was setting over the mountains, and we piled back into the trucks for our now dark and bumpy ride home. A brief stop at a small store gave the girls an opportunity to have more tea with more women and the most adorable fat month old named Ahmed.

The evening meal was beans, bread, cheese, and tea, followed by the evening entertainment of mind-bending riddles. Following the brave souls of the night before, I slept on the roof under the brightest stars in Yemen. The Milky Way. Constant shooting stars. You can’t make me leave!!!

Beyt Qatina

I'm going to do this installment the same was as I did last terms trip to Hadramout, in three pieces. Each day was so full, I'm sorry!
And don't get excited, it's not my camera, the pictures are all stolen from friends.

7/31 - Day One

The second term big trip! I signed up for a “strenuous hiking trip” to the region of Beyt Qatina in the mountains south of Sana’a. It was a small trip, 14 students as opposed to my 60 person trip to Hadramout, with 3 girls and 11 guys. We met early on Thursday morning and headed out of Sana’a in a bus. 2 hours later (after passing Shibam and Kokaban, we pulled off to the side of the road in a valley of qat fields. Awaiting us were a pickup truck and a Land Cruiser made circa 1970. There was a hole in the floor of the Land Cruiser and to be quite honest, I doubted its ability to make it through the weekend. I had no idea what this car, both cars, were capable of. Let’s just say I have some new plans for the adventure truck when I get home.

We piled into our two new cars which were going to take us around for our trip, as our bus ‘couldn’t handle the roads.’ NO KIDDING! After about 10 minutes on paved roads, we thought the bus driver was just lazy. I moved from the bed of the pickup truck where 10 of us were crammed onto the top of the cab in order to have more room. Then we came around the bend and the wonderful paved road disappeared in front of our eyes.
In its place was simply a blasted path on the side of the mountain. Rocks and sinkholes included. Riding on the top of that pickup was like riding a mechanical bull. What a workout. There were several times we struggled to get up a 45 degree incline on straight rocks, but our trucks never failed!

Before heading to our house for the weekend, we visited a small, hilltop village for a rural wedding! We were all excited, made even more so by the gunfire we heard as we drove up. They used to do this at ever wedding in Yemen – a traditional shooting of Kalashnikovs to celebrate. It’s been banned in the cities due to a tendency of people to shoot each other accidentally, but in the mountaintops of rural Yemen it is a common form of wedding celebration. While the men talked guns, beat drums, and danced with their curved knives called jambiyyas (ah, the manliness of being a man), the women thought it would be even more fun to go and join the women’s party. In Sana’a the women’s wedding parties are a blast. Whistling and yelling, loud Arabic pop music (although if you’re lucky you just might get ‘I’m a Barbie Girl’), an overdressed bride, and the Mecca of 80’s prom gowns and sequins. Same thing right? Wrong... nothing could have been more wrong. First of all, the bride was 13. We sat in a dark room with a scared girl in a wedding dress a couple sizes too big, huge fake purple flowers and gold bracelets and tiara, and women who realize that this is not an exciting day for the bride. Silences mixed with words of comfort to the girl. But we thought it would be ok, we could eat and then be happy. In the rural villages the women eat the leftovers of the men. Literally. One of the guys took an after picture of their lunch. That was the before picture to ours. Once you got over the fact that you were eating someone else’s leftovers, however, the food was pretty good for the boonies!

We joined our male compatriots at the qat chew following lunch. I set next to a Yemeni man who, before we arrived, had apparently told another member of my trip that all he wanted was an American wife. I guess I’m all set! I consented to try a leaf – the evils of peer pressure! DISGUSTING! I know it’s bad for the economy, and I know how incredibly unattractive chewers are, and I know how its inhibiting agriculture, but honestly, the taste is enough to make me never want to touch it again. I don’t know how 80% of the country chews it for hours a day. Gross.

We left the wedding to head to our house for the next 2 days. A normal Yemeni farmhouse, the building had two rooms with cushions around the walls for us to live and sleep in. The locals chewed more as we played cards, after which we took an effortless stroll around the qat and coffee fields adjacent to the house. The highlight of that short hike was the local kids, who use small pieces of metal to slide down the irrigation tubes at breakneck speeds.

Dinner that night was a simple meal of beans, bread, cheese, and tea. Night falls early, especially because the house is in a wadi (valley) and the sun sets earlier for us. With an ancient propane lamp we were able to gather inside and play Mafia ( a game of deceit, lying, persuasion, and death – hours of fun!). Highlights included the consistent killing of the sole British kid in the beginning stages of the game leading to calls of a nationalistic form of racism, allegations turning as petty as ‘Well, he’s twirling his hair….’ (guilty, that was me, and it worked), and our big lovable Blake being unable to defend himself against allegations of being in the Mafia because “The light, it’s so round…and bright…I can’t take my eyes off it…”

Being in the country is not complete without an uncomfortable sleep – so bring on the floor!

P.S. Only thirty people from the Yemen Language Center in its 23 years have been to Beyt Qatina and we're pretty sure they're the only center that runs this trip into the tribal lands. Baller!!!