Adventures in Yemen Part 2

The sights and sounds you’ll experience in the streets of Sana’a are a constant reminder that you’re not in Kansas anymore, Dorothy. The typical Yemeni man wears a full-length shirtdress belted at the waist, sandals, a headscarf, and a Western-style blazer (which they sell near Bab al-Yemen for 1000 riyal, equivalent to $5 US). But the most surprising part of the outfit is the huge dagger, called a jambiya, that nearly every man wears in the middle of his waist, tucked into his belt. The dagger is a status symbol of sorts, with more affluent Yeminis sporting more expensive, ornate versions.

The other visual that is uniquely Yemeni is the omnipresent bulge in the men’s cheeks, which you’ll see everywhere after noon each day. Although alcohol is illegal in Yemen, it is perfectly legal, and accepted, to chew Quat, a mild narcotic that is chewed in leaf form by virtually every male, and even some females. As they pop leaf after leaf in their mouths and chew, they tuck the whole green mess into one side of the cheek. By 4 in the afternoon, men are walking around with tennis ball size bulges on one side of their faces, bags of Quat are hanging from their dagger handles in their belts, and the entire energy level of the city seems to come down. You’ll see shopkeepers slumped in their stalls, and the buzz and energy you saw in the morning will have diminished considerably. We call it the Quat Effect.

What can be a bit un-nerving is climbing into a cab, most of which have no seatbelts, and realizing your driver is high as a kite on Quat. Quat remains an integral part of the Yemeni culture. It is Yemen’s biggest cash crop by far, and even dictates a big part of Yemeni architecture – every home in Yemen has a room, usually on the top floor, that is set aside as a Quat-chewing room. It is called a maffraj (room with a view in Arabic), and is where the men go to enjoy the effects of the Quat and each other’s company.

Tea drinking is another big Yemeni pastime, and you’ll see evidence of it everywhere in the streets. From kids scurrying by with tea in 4-cup holders to stalls selling it from huge cauldrons to merchants offering you a cup, it’s a big part of the social scene here. Whether made with cardamom, mint or laced with sweet condensed milk, the tea is delicious and warming. It is especially helpful on those cold mornings when you’re waiting for the sun to warm things up. (Because Sana’a is so high up, the temperature can go from 40 degrees Fahrenheit at night to 80 during the day in February.)

Another scene you might stumble upon is the twice-weekly donkey market, where men from the countryside come into the Old City to buy donkeys for their farms. The market takes place right in the street and up on the sidewalk, so be mindful of the occasional bucking donkey as you walk by.
If you’re lucky, you could even happen upon a traditional Yemeni wedding, which takes place right out in the middle of the street. If you show interest, you’ll more than likely be invited to join in. The men party outside with singing and dancing, while the women are secluded in another location. At the end of the night, the bride is presented to the groom. Since 70% of all marriages are still arranged, this is often the first time the bride and groom are seeing each other.

Perhaps the scene that will most make you feel as though you’ve stepped back in time is the sight if a blindfolded camel tethered to a giant mortar and pestle, walking around and around in circles, grinding sesame seeds into oil. There is a stall just east of the Bab al-Yemen where you can see one of these camels at work.

While you will see many Yemeni women out during the day, shopping, doing errands, and walking with their kids, you’ll rarely see them out at night. And you’ll never see them in any of the restaurants or cafes, which cater exclusively to men (and the occasional tourist or ex-pat).
You must never photograph the women (although the men and kids love to have their photos taken and will often beg you to shoot them). All of the women wear long robes and headscarves. Most are dressed completely in black, but some wear robes that are quite colorful. While you cannot see anything but their eyes, they seem to be taking in everything and will stare unabashedly at you, probably because the sight of a tourist is still something of a novelty here.

The first thing you’ll notice about Yemeni children is that there are so many of them. Yemeni women have on average 6.5 kids, and nearly half the population is under age 15. The other thing you’ll notice is how rugged they are. The streets in the Old City are filled with unattended kids and toddlers who must dodge all forms of cars, bicycles, wheelbarrows, scurrying adults, motorbikes, rocks and sticks wielded by other kids, and even the occasional donkey or camel. Despite being elbowed, pummeled, and even falling flat on their faces, these kids seem impervious to pain. I even saw one having his face twisted in the hand of an older kid, and despite visible fingerprints on his face, never flinched.

They also are masters of improvisation when it comes to toys. The closest thing to conventional toys you’ll see are marbles, which they play avidly using manhole covers as their base. The other popular “toy” is old tires, which they gleefully chase down the narrow alleys, adding to the chaos and adventure of navigating the maze.

But by far the most hair-raising thing I witnessed was children as young as 6 or 7 driving cars (and hitching rides by standing on the rear bumper!). One was driving a Mercedes full of his friends down the winding alleys, with the car barely clearing the narrow lanes. Another was driving a huge truck piled high with sacks of flour 70 mph on a winding road up in the mountains with no guard rails or even a shoulder. Apparently kids learn to drive early, since most women don’t drive, and someone needs to drive their moms and sisters around.

Between this and the incredible freedom kids have to move around the walled city, being a kid in Yemen is tough to beat. No play dates, no schedules, just plain and simple fun, which explains the big smiles you see on the kids faces everywhere you turn in San’a. But don’t be mislead –as the kids get older, they’re probably the hardest working kids you’ll see anywhere, helping their parents, minding the shops, pushing wheelbarrows full of goods. Play hard, work hard.