navigate:
Sunday 2004-05-09 - Damascus, Syria
Relaxing in the mosque
After a nice breakfast in the hotel we (two travel mates and me) first walk to Martyr’s Square where there is a money changer’s office — which turns out to be closed. We decide to go to the old city first, after the “advance” we got last night we still have enough cash for a drink and entrance into the Mosque. When we cross the street, a young man coming from the other side nods at us, and says: “Welcome!” — a nice sign of how friendly people are here in Damascus.
The old town isn’t far, and we get in at the Souk entrance; the Souk al-Hamidiyeh reminds me of the big bazaar in Istanbul, with its high vaulted streets, and endless shops along them. When we get out at the other end, skipping all the side streets for now, we see the Umayadd Mosque before us, through remnants of what looks like an old Greek temple, Greek architecture, anyway. Entrance to the Mosque is 50 Syrian pounds, and us women get a hooded robe (freshly washed and ironed) loaned to us for free. We visit the shrine first; people get very emotional there, moan, and even cry. We see some drying their tears when they get out, and whole families sitting together on the floor in the front room, eating apples, chatting, relaxing.
When we get to the mosque proper, we find same relaxed atmosphere. The inner plaza is very big, beautiful with lots of marble, and at various places people sit around, resting and enjoying the place. Inside the prayer hall this continues. Everyone mixes (no strict separation between men and women here, families sit together). Near the shrine of Prophet Yahia (St. John the Baptist) a group of women sit together, listening to what a mullah is telling them. A woman walks round and hands out sugared almonds (delicious!); some people try to chat with us. We end up staying here a long time, a wonderful experience. We see many other interesting things today but this is definitely the best.
Everywhere, people are very friendly and helpful. We all agree: this is a very, very nice city to be in — and one to come back to. And a great city to start our 65-day trip across Asia from.
Tuesday 2004-05-11 - Palmyra, Syria
Impressive Romans
After lunch with (again) a cup of lentil soup we walk to the ruins of the Roman city of Palmyra. Enormously impressive, more so than even the Acropolis in Athens, we think. Not only is it visible that here was an enormous city here in Roman times (600,000 people lived here in the first century) but along the big avenue where a surprising number of columns are still standing we also see remnants of the sewer system that make it clear what an enormous feat of engineering this city was.
Apart from the museum (in the big temple of Bel) which happens to be closed when we get there, entry to the whole site is free, and we roam around for several hours. Of course, I take lot of pictures as well!
Wednesday 2004-05-12 - Krak des Chevaliers, Syria
Largest castle I’ve ever seen
On the way to Aleppo our first stop is at Krak des Chevaliers: An enormous castle built by the crusaders in 1110 on the spot of an older fort occupied by a garrison of Kurd troops. It’s hardly imaginable such a stronghold was ever taken, and indeed two sieges in 1163 and 1172 were fought off. However, a century later, in 1271 the Mamelukes came with much improved siege equipment and succeeded in taking the stronghold. Later, locals lived for many years in the castle which is now being restored again. One can roam around for quite some time through stables, storage areas, chapel, large rooms, and climb the command tower to oversee it all. On a clear day one should be able to see the Mediterranean from here — but alas not today.
Friday 2004-05-14 - Aleppo, Syria
Tea on the square
Today is Friday, so all Islamic stores will be closed, including most of the Souk. We go to Aleppo’s Armenian (Al-Jdeida) quarter instead where we visit a few old merchant’s houses. One, Sissi House (Beit Sissi), lovingly restored with as much as possible of the original interior, is now a bar and restaurant; the other, Beit Wakil, is beautifully restored but somewhat less authentically; this is now a four-star hotel. Here we can also see the cellars, part of an old system of underground passages which connected all the houses and ended up below the citadel where people could find safety when the city was attacked. In both houses, visitors are often welcome to look around, even if they are not guests. It’s very interesting to see such old (and rich) houses with their pleasant courtyards.
Afterwards we end up at a little square - the three of us would like some tea. Thom goes off to find some while Carla and I sit down but he returns without having found anything. Just at that moment we see a man serving some tea to three men across from us; a little wave and he comes to us: yes, he sells tea! So here we sit in the shade of some trees on a little bench, sipping our tea and watching the comings and goings across the square at the bakery: people in a crush in front of the hole-in-the-wall store, getting piles of piping-hot round flat bread which is then immediately spread out on benches and fences to cool off before repacking it and taking it home.
Tuesday 2004-05-18 - Şanlıurfa, Turkey
Medieval atmosphere
This morning, Carla and I first roam through the curving alleys of the old town of Urfa with its medieval houses. It’s a veritable labyrinth, no right angle, no straight street, beautiful bow-windows and some houses actually built right over the streets, and — not suprisingly — a lot of interesting doors for my photographic collection.
We end up near the river (an open sewer) where Kurdish people have a market of second-hand clothes. It’s quite obvious the Kurdish people are among the poorest in Turkey, even though we’re here in Kurdish territory.
On we go along the vegetable market and through the bazaar until we end up near the carp pond where we meet Thom.
Wednesday 2004-05-19 - Harran, Turkey
Beehives
Our first stop of the day is at Harran where there still are “beehive” houses: mud brick houses in the form of a beehive: the steep round roof allows warm air to rise up so air at ground level remains cooler. Unfortunately our visit is rather disappointing. The architectural aspect is interesting but there aren’t very many original beehive houses left and most families live in newer houses (the classical box model is not as cool!) and use the beehive houses only as stables.
The place is also obviously spoiled by tourism, with children running around trying to sell their handiwork but not taking no for an answer. There is a castle which is probably interesting in itself - but after the impressive castles we’ve already seen on our trip, Harran’s small castle doesn’t really pique our interest. We all agree that the planned 1.5 hours (originally even 2) is too long for a visit to this “museum” village; an hour is plenty, even if you want to have a look inside the crumbling castle.
Thursday 2004-05-20 - Diyarbakır, Turkey
More history
After we take our leave from the carpet seller at the mosque nearby we try to finally find the Christian church we were looking for — which we succeed in doing only with the help of another crowd of children and some friendly older people. The church, another Orthodox Syrian church, is obviously for a small community only. Three families live in the buildings surrounding the church proper within the church grounds. The priest speaks some English, another man some German, and together they lead us around their small church with many beautiful and very old paintings badly in need of restoration. We leave a donation for the church.
Our next goal is the old city wall: an enormous wall built of black basalt stone, still surrounding the whole old city and 6 km long; the top of it provides a good view of the city of Diyarbakır and its surroundings. At several places there are stairs where you can get up the wall; we climb up via stairs inside one of the gates and immediately attract another crowd of children. These are friendly and try to play guide (though we’d rather walk without them). Of course we don’t give them the money they obviously hope for when we leave the wall after a nice walk. But these somewhat older children don’t seem to mind too much: they had a good time with us, apparently.
Friday 2004-05-21 - Silvan, Turkey
Peek into the middle ages
Today is a travel day: we go to Van. The landscape upon leaving Diyarbakır is getting more and more mountainous, and we seem to be climbing gradually as well. The mountains are beautiful, and there are many spring flowers — sitting in the bus and looking out is no punishment.
Just after Silvan I notice some holes in the rocks high up in the mountains on the left just when others shout “stop” for a picture of the beautiful view over the valley on the right. I walk resolutely back to get the holes in the rocks back into view and to take a picture. It turns out my hunch was right: these were rock dwellings, dating back to the middle ages. A few of us walk all the way up to them and manage to look inside one of the holes but (as expected) they’re completely bare. Building rock dwellings so high up inside a steep mountain side must have been a form of defense, I think — though simpler than building a citadel on top of a mountain. Maybe they were farmers rather than city dwellers here.
Somewhat farther on there is a big dam on the left of the road; on the right is a large bridge with one very high arch, built in 1147; it’s well-preserved: you can walk over it (no other traffic allowed though). The size of the bridge is impressive, and it has some nice decorations in the stonework as well. The water below is a beautiful blue-green, cows are drinking and bathing in the water below. We spend quite a bit of time enjoying the view here, before we go on to Van, passing over the highest mountain pass in Turkey, Kuskunkıran, at 2235 m high. The view of the Lake of Van we soon get is stunning: blue-green water, surrounded on all sides with snow-capped mountain ranges.
Sunday 2004-05-23 - Doğubayazıt, Turkey
Old glory
In the afternoon we make a trip to Işak Paşa palace, 6 km outside of Doğubayazıt. The palace, of which construction started in 1685, was finished only in 1784. The palace-fortress, on top of a rock with a great view of the surrounding valley (but alas not of nearby Mount Ararat) originally had no less than 366 rooms and was built in five different architectural styles. Partly destroyed by earthquakes, what’s left is well restored now — but it’s the stonework only: nothing is left of any furnishings. Still we roam around quite a while.
From the palace we walk back to the village, first noticing what looks like traces of an old village just below the palace that we think must have serviced the palace: we already noticed some graves near the top of the mountain, a little higher up. Then, as we get gradually lower, we enjoy the beautiful wide landscape. A little surprise: at the edge of town the bus is waiting for us, and we climb in.
Tuesday 2004-05-25 - Tabriz, Iran
Conversation in the bazaar
After our visit to the Armenian church, our next goal is the bazaar, across the square. The bazaar in Tabriz is the oldest bazaar in Iran; not only is it very large but also very beautiful. It covers one huge block, and has all covered “streets” with vaults of brickwork, and sometimes larger halls. The brickwork is intricate at times and in many places very nicely restored. Also there are 55 open courtyards, many caravansaries, and countless small passages.
A man in a green jacket approaches us and tries to guide us — which we don’t want — but we don’t find a way to get rid of him politely. Sometimes he irritatingly tells us what we can see easily with our own eyes (“this is the paper bazaar”), then again he comes with interesting facts (like the 55 courtyards). At last it transpires he wants to show us his brother’s carpet shop. We explain we won’t be able to buy anything, with still such a long trip before us but that’s fine with him - just come along for a cup of tea, he suggests; we agree.
That turns out to be a good decision — we have a very interesting conversation over tea. The older brother doesn’t speak English so our guide translates: the carpet trader travels in many countries around Iran to buy carpets and thus has a different view of the world than most Iranians. First he tells us he thinks Carla and I are overdoing it a bit, the way we are clothed (we explain we feel more comfortable this way). He also tells us that Iranians are suppressed, and have little access to information because all information sources are controlled by the government. It’s obvious he is not one of the conservative Iranians, and hopes the situation will get more liberal here. So our tour of the bazaar ends with a nice meeting — this sets the theme for our trip through Iran.
Wednesday 2004-05-26 - Kandovān, Iran
Delays
We’re headed for Takāb today but we’re making a side trip to Kandovān first. Unfortunately, we leave much too late, and in Osku, a little before we reach Kandovān, we get another delay: there’s a big hole in the road and our “best bus in Iran” is much too large to be able to pass the hole in a bend, with the hole at one side and a steep channel at the other side. There’s nothing for it: the hole has to be filled first! The hole is part of a lot of digging going on all through the village; they’re building a natural gas pipeline here.
Kandovān is a bit touristy, but most of the tourists are from inside Iran: Kandovān is famous for its water which is supposed to have healing properties. Young couples often come here for that reason: the water is supposed to help with fertility problems.
Also interesting are the houses on the mountainside, many of them hewn into the rock so it’s always cool inside — much like similar houses in Cappadocia in Turkey. We drink tea in one of the houses and get a taste of local produce: dried apricots, plums, walnuts, almonds, and a delicious honey of which I would have liked to bring a pot home… not possible on this trip.
On the way back we see what we already feared: the hole in the road is not only back - it’s much bigger now! And of course has to be filled yet again. We’re running late…
Wednesday 2004-05-26 - Bonāb, Iran
Delay turns out to be our luck
When we finally arrive in Bonāb, to have a look at the old mosque there, our delay turns out to have been very lucky. Normally non-muslims aren’t allowed to enter this mosque, but at the moment we arrive a service is starting; a prayer service, we think. And when Jan takes a peek through the door, he’s invited in; then to our surprise then our whole group, still standing outside, are invited in. It turns out to be a funeral service. We’re allowed to sit at the side, and can watch the proceedings. One older man and his son are standing at the door - obviously the bereaved. Several young men, all dressed in black trousers and a black shirt, go round with water to spray or pour on the hands of the guests, then tea is brought, sugar, and delicious dates. Little plastic baskets stand all around on the floor for the date pips. Continuously, men come in (we see no women), sit down quietly and get served tea, then pray, and take their leave again, only then saying a few words to the bereaved at the door. Everyone sits on the floor, except a few older men who are sitting on chairs along the wall, near the mullah. And all the while the mullah is praying (it’s almost singing), sometimes answered by some of the men — it’s beautiful to listen to.
The mosque itself is superb, small and simple but with a unique wooden ceiling resting on wooden pillars; the flat ceiling is constructed and painted in a way that’s found nowhere else. So thanks to our delays we get not only a unique chance to watch the inside of this unique mosque, but at the same time experience how a funeral service is conducted. It’s one of those precious experiences that are rare even on a trip like this.
It’s very late and fully dark when via a winding road through the mountains we finally arrive at Takāb.
Saturday 2004-05-29 - Hamedān, Iran
Mirror, mirror on the wall … no, everywhere!
The hotel in Hamedān is inconveniently far outside the town center - and there’s a big thunderstorm when we arrive. Carla and I decide to stay in the hotel; inside practically every surface except the floor is covered in faceted mirrors, with glaring white lights in-between: truly dazzling. I attempt to catch the glitter in a photograph — it’s hard to know how that will turn out: glaring lights tend to confuse my camera’s light meter…
Another surprise: for the first time in Iran we see ladies behind the reception desk.
Monday 2004-05-31 - Kāshān, Iran
Kahn-e Abbassi
After a visit to the beautiful Kāshān bazaar (with a mosque that to our disappointment — and that of the mullah who arrived just before us — turns out to be closed), the three of us head for the area where there are a few restored old houses. The first we find is the ‘Abassian historical complex’. Dating back to the 19th century, it’s still in the process of being carefully restored to its full glory but it’s already very beautiful. One enters the building on what turns out to be the floor above ground level — the building has three levels in all; rooms are arranged around two large courtyards and one smaller one. Everywhere is very “Iranian” stucco with intricate floral designs; in one room is a unique ceiling of white plaster, with small decorations made of mirrors in the shape of a sun, stars and trees with birds in it; in several other rooms are superb stained-glass windows.
The complex boasts several badgirs: ‘wind towers’ that function as a natural, passive kind of air conditioning: at the top openings all around catch the lightest breeze and create a draft that pulls up warm air from inside, so it’s always cool. The badgirs here are not just excellent examples, but one can also see in the rooms the air inlets and conduits so it becomes clear how this ingenious mechanism works. We will see many examples of badgirs, typical Iranian desert architecture; they’re not just used in houses but also for cooling communal water cisterns.
Tuesday 2004-06-01 - Abyāneh, Iran
Museum village
On the way to Yazd we make a little side trip to Abyāneh — after the desert the river valley is in a surprisingly green: the village grew up in this oasis. Abyāneh is architecturally interesting, with all houses facing south to catch most of the sun during the very cold winters, overhanging bay windows in the second floors and all houses reddish in color as a result of the red mud used for plastering the walls. Still I find the visit somewhat disappointing: it’s become a museum village with a population thinned out by migration of those with a good education to Tehrān and other big cities, leaving behind only old people who try to make a living selling handicrafts to tourists. In winter, when there are no tourists, only a few hundred people actually live here. It just doesn’t feel like a ‘real’ village.
Wednesday 2004-06-02 - Yazd, Iran
Getting lost
First priority this morning in Yazd is changing money - I’ve already borrowed some from Thom and Carla. So we head for the old town where the bank should be near the mosque and next to the post office. According to our city information, it’s very easy to get lost in the old town — and getting lost is exactly what we do. Not a real problem: the old town is quite beautiful and reminds me somewhat of the old town of Bukhara with its network of alleys and mud-plastered walls. When we finally find ourselves in a ‘real’ street again we find we weren’t even far off: we actually already passed the back of the Jame mosque (I even took a picture without realizing it was this mosque) and once we’re in the right street, the post office is easy to find — but where is the bank?? After walking up and down the street and asking several times we find we walked passed it at least twice already: the bank building is on the corner and they’ve just built a new wing; they are now renovating the main building - meanwhile neither building has a sign this is the bank!
We have to practically walk through a building site to get to the money-changing desk in the new wing. Changing money is a complicated affair with three forms, showing your passport, signatures and stamps, and then going back down to the other building to do the actual exchange at the cashier’s. While working through all the forms the bank employee who helps us chats with us a bit and tells us they actually do a lot of business with people from the Netherlands: Iran is importing a lot of seeds from seed growers in the Netherlands, such as for cucumber and carrots.
The Jame mosque, of which we already had a glimpse, turns out to be one of the most beautiful I’ve ever seen, with splendid tile work. It’s also a nice, cool space and we see how several students take advantage of this and sit around on the carpets and against the tiled walls with their study books.
Thursday 2004-06-03 - Kermān, Iran
Best bazaar so far
After a nice ride through — again — a beautiful landscape (with many pistachio orchards in this region) we arrive around lunch time in Kermān. The idea was to have lunch in a restaurant in the bazaar here where live music is performed in the afternoons. Alas, today is the anniversary of the day Emām Khomeiny died: an official day of mourning and nearly everything (official buildings, museums, most shops, even many restaurants) is closed — including the restaurant we wanted to go to.
We spread out in the Vakil bazaar, some in search of the ingredients of our picnic lunch tomorrow, others in search of lunch. Carla and I find a good sandwich at a small shop near the main entrance of the bazaar and then walk back to have a good look around. Although small, it’s one of the most beautiful bazaars I’ve seen so far in Iran with wide vaulted ceilings from brickwork, some plastered; some domes even have frescoes inside, including a very interesting one at the entrance of the Ganj Ali Khan Hammam museum (closed today, of course) depicting many bizarre animals (like an elephant with mouse ears taking a man between its pointed predator teeth) and elaborate hunting scenes. Opposite the museum is the large rectangular Ganj Ali courtyard, a beautiful space with much greenery and at the end a medressa which is being restored (no entry).
In spite of regulations, some shops in the bazaar are open anyway and some vendors sit around in front of closed shops (some shopkeepers probably can’t afford to close up for a day and this seems to be tolerated). There’s a very nice atmosphere here; people are nice and friendly, too. We also note many with Pakistani clothes (though for all we know they might be Afghans - it can be hard to tell the difference). Although the bazaar in Tabriz is very beautiful, too, and this one is much smaller, I actually like this one better with its unique frescoes in the domes.
Friday 2004-06-04 - Rāyen, Iran
Bam in miniature
Originally, an excursion to Bam was on the program for today but since the earthquake last December that’s obviously off: we’re not into ‘disaster tourism’, the citadel is practically destroyed for now (we saw some shocking before-and-after photographs) and anyway we’d just be in the way while they’re rebuilding.
Instead, we go to Rāyen, a much smaller town south of Kermān, with a citadel much in the style of Bam, though naturally also much smaller. As with historical sites all over Iran, they’re busily restoring it. The outer wall, seemingly in good shape anyway, is fully reconstructed — using fired brick where the mud brick was missing in a few places — and the public-facing walls are already nicely plastered again. Inside there are several buildings; the restoration of the castle is also well advanced (the living spaces in the same style as the historical houses we saw in Kāshān), as is a small mosque. Elsewhere, only the outlines of buildings are indicated with low mud-plastered walls. At some unfinished buildings it’s interesting to be able to see how a domed roof is constructed on a square plan with nothing but adobe brick.
Many tours that would originally have gone to Bam are now coming here but Rāyen hasn’t quite adapted yet — but maybe they don’t want to? Apparently most tour buses just go up to the gate of the citadel and leave immediately after the visit. We go in search of a cup of tea instead but we can’t find a cup of tea anywhere in the village (rare in Iran) but a bottle of Iranian Cola and some chairs the shop owner lends us to sit on makes up for that — we even get some bread with it. A little farther on we find a simple but beautiful shrine in a small building with a nicely-tiled dome. Then it’s time to leave.
Sunday 2004-06-06 - Shirāz, Iran
Meeting in the mosque
The bazaar in Shirāz is nice and roomy, with vaulted brick ceilings much as we’ve seen elsewhere but wider and higher (so it’s cool); shops are larger, too. The effect is quite pleasant and relaxed, though it’s easy to get lost in the labyrinth of streets and alleys. Inside the bazaar is the Vakil mosque where Carla and I go first. It’s not in use at the moment, seemingly having been neglected for a long time: we see the brick and tile work is quite dilapidated in places, and plants grow between the stones in the courtyard. But (of course) they’re hard at work with the restoration. The building dates from 1773 but most of the present tile work was added in 1820 — the strange result can best be seen in the courtyard with two styles mixed together but alas not quite in harmony: styles and colors clash. At the back of the courtyard is a large open prayer hall that’s quite nice though with its many thick and spiraled stone pillars.
When we stand looking around in the prayer hall, suddenly a man approaches us asking whether we speak German (we do) and then if we speak English (as well); his son speaks better English, he explains, but actually his English is quite good. It turns out the family (father, mother and son) are back in Iran for a visit after having fled the country 16 years ago, first to Germany where they lived for many years, then on to Canada where they live now and where the son is studying tourism. Part of the reason for the visit is a study trip for the son: he may be wanting to take tour groups here. Their view of Iran, after 16 years outside the country, forms an interesting contrast with that of other Iranians we spoke to: many people here mention the lack of information and a move back lately from earlier more relaxed rules while this family (father and mother) takes a longer-time view and note that people actually have it better than when they left; there’s more and better food and other goods, and it’s more relaxed now than it was then.
Hopefully this longer-term trend, even though it’s three steps forward, two steps back, will continue.
Religious education
After the mosque we want to visit the Madrasseh-e Khan, which we find only with the help of some Shirāz locals (it’s also in the easy-to-get-lost-in bazaar, and the map in the Lonely Planet is useless — as they are for many bazaars). Normally the public isn’t let in in this Madrassa since this is a functional religious school but after a chat with a nice young Mullah at the entrance we just walk in and aren’t stopped.
Young men sit around with study books, and at the end of the courtyard is an open hall where many Mullahs sit together in a circle for a group discussion. The tile work of the building, almost baroque in style with its many floral patterns, is superb and because here it’s all from the same (Safavid) period, forms a more balanced whole than that in the Vakil mosque. The courtyard is a beautiful space, too, with a small central pond and many shade trees and orange trees and flowers: a very pleasant place to study!
Another funeral service
In the afternoon Carla and I cross the river over an old bridge; the river is nearly dry most of the year, flowing through Shirāz and ending in Lake Mahārlu. It’s nearly dry now, but looking at the high walls along the river it must hold a lot of water at times. Just across the bridge is a small mosque with a beautiful dome in the shape of a tulip bulb, covered with intricate tile work. Of the mosque itself (Emāmzādeh-ye Ali Ibn-e Hamze) virtually all of the original 10th century structure has disappeared as a result of both earthquakes and successive repairs and additions but the nicely spaced forecourt is different in that it’s almost completely paved with old gravestones, some very beautiful — we’ve never seen this anywhere else.
As we’ve learned to recognize in Bonāb, a funeral service is obviously in progress as we enter the courtyard - with a difference: the women take part here as well, and we’re invited into the women’s room. It’s quite crowded there, and we hardly find a place to sit without sitting in front of others. Inside, the ceiling is completely covered with small mirrors, giving a dazzling effect. Similar to the funeral service at Bonāb, refreshments are served; here we get dates (filled with nuts and covered in coconut) and lemonade. We’re quite welcome, but leave soon since we’re obviously physically in the way in the crowded space.
Monday 2004-06-07 - Persepolis, Iran
Impressive palaces
Today we make an excursion to Takht-e Jamshid, a huge complex of palaces started by king Darius I in about 512 BC and completed by a range of successive kings (Xerxes among them) over a period of 200 years. It was originally called Pārsā but is better known to us by the name Persepolis which is what the Greeks called it when they invaded and destroyed the city in 331 BC.
We leave Shirāz already at six in the morning, hoping to be at the site at seven, when the light should be good. We are - but alas they can’t open up for us: official opening time is 7:30 and the guard doesn’t have a key. It’s 7:45 before we’re actually inside. As a result, the famous reliefs on the Apadama staircase, now protected by a roof, are half in the shadow already: it’s obvious that at seven the light would have been much better, the sun is too high in the sky already now…
On the site as a whole, some pillars still stand, and parts of gateways with sculptures and reliefs but I’m most fascinated by the reliefs found on almost every upright surface; while many are damaged there’s still a lot in very good condition. Almost all of them depict long lines of people from all parts of the huge Persian empire coming to pay tribute to the king. If you know what to look for, the various nations can be recognized by their clothing, hair and beard (all are men) and attributes. Easy to spot are the Persians with a straight hat and the Medians with a round cap; I think I also spot a Phrygian hat - and there are many more. All these people seem to be walking with the visitor as it were, along the same corridors, and actually climbing the same stairs; sometimes two abreast - a surprising bit of perspective in the otherwise ‘flat’ scenes. Other reliefs show the king (or maybe a prince) controlling a bull or a lion. The capitals of the pillars are often two-headed figures such as eagles, lions or bulls.
Overlooking the site is the tomb of Artaxerxes II, hewn out from the face of the mountain and also decorated with beautiful reliefs. I climb up to there (ignoring my protesting knees) and see my effort rewarded with a beautiful view - hopefully caught in the panorama photograph I make from there.
The whole complex is enormous and very impressive. Interestingly, the actual use of these palaces is not quite known, whether they were lived in, or used only for ceremonial purposes. What is obvious though is that this city in its time must have been a stunning symbol of power and wealth.
Wednesday 2004-06-09 - Esfahān, Iran
Another beautiful mosque
Back to the Emām Khomeini square this morning with Thom and Carla. It has a different atmosphere in the morning, not just because of the morning light: the fountains are off now and most people are at work instead of relaxing after hours. It’s still just as stunning.
We pay a visit to the Emām mosque, at an oblique angle to the square because it was built angled to Mecca. Built over a period of 26 years and finished in 1638 it’s a superb example of the Safavid building style: it’s completely covered (both inside and out) with glazed tiles in the yellow and light blue specific for Esfahān, with accents in a surprising light green color I’ve not seen anywhere else. I spend nearly a whole film trying to capture the splendor (knowing I won’t even approach what I’m seeing but trying anyway). Although the intricate and sometimes playful patterns are very ‘Iranian’ in their curly complexity, I like this a lot better than the almost ‘Rococo’ flowery style of the early 19th century seen in the Vakil mosque in Shirāz.
Thirty-three arches
Esfahān is famous not only for its Emām Khomeini square, but also for its bridges over the the Zāyande river. Late afternoon, with the sun sinking and just at the right angle, Carla and I walk to the Sī-o-Se bridge which is so named because of its 33 arches (sī-o-se means 33 in Farsi). This pedestrian bridge was built in 1602; double arches on two levels give it a remarkable style and texture, enhanced in the late light, and always provide some shade regardless where the sun is. We admire it first from the northern shore of the Zāyande river, with the huge fountain and ‘swan’ water bikes in front, then experience it by walking all across it. On both sides of the river are parks with shaded walking paths, another area where a lot of people come to relax and play after work.
Of course, being a real bridge nut, I take a lot of pictures of the huge bridge and its surroundings. Afterwards, we sit on a low wall at the river shore with a (non-alcoholic) beer and a bag of chips, just watching and enjoying the sunset.
Thursday 2004-06-10 - Esfahān, Iran
Singing under the bridge
Looking at the map of the city, I had reasoned that the bridges for which Esfahān is famous should be at their best in the early morning or evening, with a low sun at the best angle. So: we get up at 5:30 am and at precisely 6 walk out of the hotel. The streets are very quiet now (it’s no longer risky to cross the street) and you can hear the birds singing. I always love to see a city before it fully wakes up.
We walk to the Zāyande river and then left (East) along the northern shore. People are walking along the paths to their work, others are jogging or doing gymnastics. At 7 we’re just past the Khāju bridge which was built to double as a dam (the square notches that once held the sluice doors are still visible) and has nice 17th century paintings and tile work. We’re just in time: the light is indeed very beautiful. Unfortunately at the moment you can only walk along the bottom of the bridge: they’re reconstructing one of the ramps to the upper level. Under the bridge is a long row of arches: you can look through all the way to the other end of the bridge. At the other end a number of men are sitting; nearby others are doing gymnastics. We walk across and find out the men at the end are the public for a man who’s singing — a capella, taking advantage of the acoustics of the stone arches. He has a good voice and sings classical Iranian songs; the songs are full of emotion, a bit like Portuguese fado, although we can’t of course understand the text. When he stops after a while, another man under the next arch takes over, and we walk on.
Thursday 2004-06-17 - Shakhrisabz, Uzbekistan
Healing water
After a night of tossing and turning (I keep losing my ice bottle when I turn around) we have to get up early for breakfast at six: president Karimov will visit Bukhara with other leaders from the region (among them president Putin of Russia) and the city will soon be hermetically closed: we have to be out before that! Although our target today is Samarkand, we won’t go straight there but via Shakhrisabz, another city that was once on one of the branches of the old Silk Road where there are some nice historical sites. The two-and-a-half hours we get for lunch and site seeing is too short to see everything (especially at my current snail’s pace) but it’s worth while.
Together with Carla I go to one complex of mosques and tombs along the main road; when I was here three years ago. the buildings were closed while they were being restored and I could see only the outside; the restoration is finished now. The mosque (Ku’k Gumbaz Masjidi, built 1434-1435) is of a very special style: inside, there are only tiles on the lower walls, and above that all decoration on walls and ceilings is painted: mostly blue and white with gold accents (here and there replaced by yellow but the gold is real). The decorations are very refined and I’d never seen this style before. Across the beautiful courtyard are two tombs side-by-side; Gumbasi Saidon Maqbarasi, built in 1437, has the same type of decorations; the other tomb next to it is older (Shayx Sham Siddin Kulol Maqbarasi, 1373-1374) and has plain white walls. A friendly girl leads us around — not that she wants to be a guide or even earn anything: she studies philology but merely wants to practice her English a bit. One of the tomb stones in the Gumbasi Saidon mausoleum has a small depression in the top, highly polished by many hands since the water that’s standing in it is supposed to have healing qualities, she tells us. I take her at her word and put a few drops of it on my foot.
Behind this complex (where we also buy a few souvenirs at the stands in the courtyard) is another one, in rather worse repair but with a nice, shaded courtyard. A few men sit around in the shade; one of them, with a long white beard, deaf and nearly blind, is 120 years old, the others tell us. I can take a picture of him, he doesn’t mind; I doubt he’s really 120 years old (I doubt he quite understands my question), but he’s definitely very old. Then it’s time to (slowly, slowly) walk back to the bus.
Saturday 2004-06-26 - Kashgar, Xinjiang (China)
Renovation at breakneck speed
After changing money (first a little at the hotel shop, possibly illegally, then after some false tries at other banks more at the main branch of the Bank of China which is indeed open) we walk in the direction of the Id Kah mosque in Kashgar. The first thing I note, a way before we get there, is a big poster depicting the future of Id Kah square: all new design, rows of new shops all around … but when we walk on we find this vision isn’t that far into the future — in fact it’s nearly finished! A large chunk of the old town around the mosque has been torn down to make place for the fancy new buildings, some in quasi-Uyghur style. There’s a fence all around the are but we notice locals walking through various openings and doors in the fence to avoid making a long detour. While we’re watching this, a woman simply waves us through and we find ourselves on the eerily empty new square. We can walk around unchallenged. The new square pavement is nearly finished but it looks very strange without all the usual bustle and market stalls. After walking around some and taking pictures, we leave the building area again through a a half-finished building and another opening in the fence. Then we try to find another way into the old town — or what’s left of it.
Vegetable Market Road is open and physically unchanged but much quieter than I know it, probably because part of the market crowd has disappeared with part of the old town where all the shops and stalls used to be. Farther on, the old houses still stand, but they’re working on completely new road pavement. I wonder if these houses will disappear as well but at least the new pavement follows the old road pattern. Maybe not — or not yet?
China is busy renovating all of its cities in preparation for the 2008 Olympics but here in Kashgar there’s an cynical twist to it: the process of renovation (or ‘renovation’) has been going on for years already, driving the Uyghurs out of the city center to new flats at the outskirts of the city, and letting Han Chinese into the city (though their apartments aren’t all that much better). On the one hand, living conditions for the Uyghurs should be better in a practical sense, providing them with water and (better) sewer systems; on the other, culturally they are much worse off: they no longer have their old neighborhood mosques nearby, let alone the Id Kah (a Friday mosque); and if they’re not living on the top floor of the high-rise apartments, they have other people walking above them — something quite disconcerting for people who normally live in family dwellings around a courtyard. I feel that in a sense, it’s taking the heart out of their culture. This may not even be intentional: the supremely pragmatic Han seem to have no sense of the value of a cultural heritage.
Even two years ago, we found half of a large cemetery had been razed to make place for new apartment buildings (I was happy to have seen it before it was destroyed — it was quite impressive then). Now, the Olympics form a good excuse to speed up this renovation process. I can’t help but wonder what will be left here in four years’ time, and how far the Uyghurs still living here will then have to travel to go to the Id Kah mosque on Fridays. (The mosque is also used by Hui, Muslim Chinese, but they are a very small minority here.) Still, at least the mosque itself will be spared; two years ago even that wasn’t certain. But one of the charms of Kashgar was the contrast between the old Uyghur center and the new Chinese town growing up right next to it; at least some of that is disappearing now. It makes me sad — and makes me wonder what’s happening in Tibet now…
The largest mosque in Xinjiang
The center of Kashgar has turned into a huge construction area (the preceding destruction seems to be finished already). The main entrance of the Id Kah is closed while ‘renovating’ the square in front of it, but the mosque is still open. We locate a back entrance I hadn’t noticed before and find ourselves right at the wide, open prayer hall at the back of the large courtyard. Pillars and roof beams are made of wood, decorated with carving and painted in various bright colors; there’s some decoration on the walls as well. The whole of the huge courtyard is shaded by a mass of poplars also lining the ponds. As a result, it’s always cool and pleasant here, a spot to quietly sit and ponder the world and whatever upper being(s) you believe in. Now, it’s also like a peninsula of the old Kashgar in a sea of modernization. A spot to find your inner peace again, just sitting under the rustling poplar leaves.
Just when we sit down, a man approaches us and asks if we have a ticket — well, no, we entered at the back, there’s no ticket office there. We’ll buy one, of course. No problem, you can stay where you are, just give me the money (10 Yuan), he suggests, which we do. A little while later the friendly man comes walking back to bring us the tickets and tells us they’ll be closing in a few minutes. We ask and get permission to walk a little around the courtyard before actually leaving!
This mosque, with its huge poplar-shaded courtyard is not just unique: it’s also the largest mosque in all of Xinjiang; originally built in the 15th century, it was extended and renovated later. Also interesting is that (as I noted when I was here before) not only Uyghurs come here, but Hui (Muslim Chinese) as well. I’m glad this very special bit of Kashgar will at least remain.
Wednesday 2004-07-07 - Xi’an, China
Relaxing in the mosque… again
Now that we’ve arrived in the ‘real’ old town of Xi’an, we don’t actually see many signs that this is a Muslim quarter: only a few of the men and women we see actually wear their traditional Muslim headdres, but most don’t (even though most people here may actually be Muslim). Chinese Muslims, although ethnically mostly Han Chinese, are called Hui and are recognized as a separate ‘nationality’ in China.
In Kashgar the Hui go to the Id Kah mosque together with the Uyghurs; this mosque, with all its poplars in the large courtyard, is very Uyghur in style and atmosphere. Here, in Xi’an, there are no Uyghurs (although we occasionally see people from other minorities in the streets). So now, after all the mosques we visited on our long trip, through predominanty Muslim countries, we’re curious what a Chinese mosque will be like. Maybe we shouldn’t have been surprised, but when we finally arrive after a somewhat roundabout route avoiding most of the tourist shops, the surprise is how ‘Chinese’ it looks. It’s actually more like a Buddhist temple than a mosque: we miss the architectural pattern we’ve become used to, with a large central courtyard and a central fountain or pond for ritual washing.
According to historical records carved in stone tablets presrved here, the mosque was set up in 742 AD during the Tang dynasty, and restored and further expanded during the Song, Yuan, Ming and Qing dynasties. Not surpisingly, the complex boasts a rich variety of architectural styles in the many buldings, platforms, pavillions and prayer halls arranged along five consecutive courtyards. In the fourth courtyard is a kind of pagoda with an octagonal roof serving as a minaret (unlike any we’ve seen before); instead of a central fountain or pond for the ritual washing there is a separate building dedicated to this purpose to the side of this courtyard. The large prayer hall, not accessible to non-muslims, is at the end of the fifth courtyard. Instead of wide open places, the four first courtyards are actually lush gardens; between the old trees and lots of flowers and shrubs there are many places to sit and rest, and enjoy the quiet: here, shielded from the bustle of metropolis all around it, one hears no traffic — only the chirping and birdsong of the many birds living here. In fact, sitting in the shade in this nice peaceful atmosphere, we find it actually hard not to doze off.
We hang around for quite a while, before braving the tourist shops to shop for some presents to take home.
Friday 2004-07-09 - Beijing, China
Not the temple I was looking for…
The little map on the back of my hotel business card indicates the location of the Tian Tan temple, which seems to be one of the must-see places in Beijing. It seems close enough for me to manage, so I set out in that direction. The little map is a bit sketchy though, and certainly not to scale; after passing the Friendship Hospital and turning to the right I do end up at a temple but a very different one — quite a find: my travel guide doesn’t even mention it.
I’m finding myself at the Xiannong temple complex, originally from the Ming dynasty period (started in 1420) and used by both Ming and Qing emperors. Offers to the god Xiannong were made here, and they celebrated the ‘ceremony of the planting’ to ensure a good harvest. The whole complex consists of several beautifully-restored buildings, observation platforms and shrines. It now houses the Beijing Museum of Ancient Architectures. I roam and sit around for quite a while (never going inside any of the buildings) before turning back to the hotel.
Monday 2005-09-19 - Bejing, China
Imperial Palace
I wake up with a fever: my cold is getting a hold. I still want to go out though: I’m not feeling that bad. Together with Carla and Gwendoline I go to the Imperial palace today (also known as “The Forbidden City”; officially it’s the Palace Museum), right in the center of Beijing. Once we step outside, we find it’s chilly, quite a change from yesterday: we go back to our rooms to fetch a jacket and note most Beijing citizens are wearing long sleeves today as well. The atmosphere in the streets today is clearly different from yesterday when it was a holiday: now we see people going about their business instead of whole families strolling about lazily.
To my surprise we don’t have to pay right at the first gate (the one with the big portrait of chairman Mao above it) but walk right through onto an enormous courtyard, then on through another gate onto another courtyard. Only there we have to pay (60ұ) to go on into the complex.
What follows is quite impressive: one courtyard after another, all large or very large, with marble bridges over a little river and beautifully carved marble stairways; the buildings surrounding the courtyards all have brick-red painted walls and elegant roofs of yellow-glazed rounded tiles, topped by beautiful animals on all corners; the woodwork (especially below the roofs) is beautifully decorated with multi-colored paintings. The effect is quite pleasing, in spite of the enormous size of it all. Lots of potted plants stand around, there’s a pond full of lotus plants, here and there big bronze and marble sculptures of mythical beasts, and big bronze vats (purpose unknown). A few halls have impressive thrones but unfortunately you can’t go near, only peer at them from the entrance of the halls, and it’s rather dark inside.
It’s rightfully called the forbidden city: not only were ordinary Chinese citizens not allowed inside the walls of the palace grounds, but the whole complex — itself just a small part of metropolis Beijing — is indeed big as a city: I reckon he whole inner city of Groningen would easily fit in this area.
It’s a pity the restoration of the complex is still going on: many buildings are still in scaffolding and whole areas of the complex closed to the public. It will surely all be ready before the 2008 Olympics: maybe we should come back in the spring of 2009 to see it in its full glory.
Tuesday 2005-09-20 - Beijing, China
Pleasure boat
Our bus picks us up at the North entrance of the park to take us to the Imperial Summer Palace on the outskirts of Beijing. After lunch in one of the restaurants near the entrance we go in (30Ұ). We (that’s Carla, Gwendoline and I) walk in the direction of the huge man-made lake that takes up some there-quarters of the the huge grounds where the emperors and their families came to escape the summer heat of Beijing. Although the weather is still gray and hazy today the air certainly is fresher here than in the city: it must have been pleasant here for the Imperial family as well, although the water in the lake is a murky green.
The huge complex is a UNESCO World Heritage Site since 1998, especially because it is a unique and intact example of the Chinese art of gardening and landscaping, so different from European or Japanese gardens. Walking along the lake front, we notice along, elegant bridge leading to an island and decide to go there. The bridge, with seventeen arches, is quite beautiful, and we walk across it to the island. On the island is the Temple of the Dragon King, where the imperial family used to pray for rain. Across the lake I see other interesting bridges (I’m a bridge nut!), but they’re too far away for now, certainly too far to walk. Instead, we catch a “Pleasure Boat” (6Ұ), nicely decorated and with a pagoda-like roof, which takes us slowly across the lake to a landing near the palace, where another interesting sight awaits us: a beautifully carved marble boat lies at the landing, as if ready to cast off.
There’s no time to view buildings today, and we’re happy to walk outside in the fresh air anyway. After a drink at a small cafe near the landing, we walk along the waterfront back to the entrance. We’ve only scratched the surface here: we agree we’d need to come back for a whole day to really experience it, rent a boat to row or paddle around the lake, and visit the buildings; in spite of that we’ve had an interesting and pleasant afternoon.
Wednesday 2005-09-21 - Beijing, China
Great effort on the Great Wall
Today is the big day. Last year when I was in Beijing I wasn’t able to do the hike along the Great Wall because my foot hurt too much (I only later found out it was broken). Now, with an ankle sprained not a week before we left and a heavy cold still bothering me, I’m not exactly in optimal condition for this undertaking, but I’m not to be deterred: I promise myself to do this and I’m going to: you really haven’t been to China unless you’ve visited the Great Wall, a UNESCO World Heritage Site since 1987.
The alarm goes off at 5:15 in the morning: we have to leave at six! The stretch of the Wall we’re going to walk, from Simatai to Jinshanling is about a three-hour ride from the city, and we’re soon in the middle of the rush hour. It’s amazing just how big this city is: it takes very long before we leave it behind us and see fields from the bus windows. Not so much afterwards, though, a little after eight, the engine suddenly starts to make a funny noise and the driver stops the bus along the road near what amounts to a truckers cafe: some plastic tables and stools outside where simple meals are served. The driver starts checking the engine, borrows a bucket of water at the cafe, brings it back, and declares it’s good to go, so we all get in again. He turns the key and … nothing. All out again. It seems the starter engine is broken. Are we really going to walk on the Great Wall today?
The driver arranges alternative transportation for us (mobile phones are ubiquitous now in China) and not too long afterwards a car and three micro buses arrive, and on we go — with just over an hour’s delay. After we turn off the main road, at 10 km from Simatai, the landscape gets more beautiful; we’re riding through a river valley now. At the entrance we buy our first ticket (30Ұ; every stretch that’s accessible requires a separate ticket, we’ll have to buy a few more). Our hike starts at 10:30.
I’m actually rather worried, my cold makes me feel rather weak, and my sprained ankle is still painful and I worry about making it worse. But Marie Josee promises she’ll stay at the back of the group, and that’s reassuring. Across a little bridge over the river and then up we go along a bit of “fake wall” to one of the towers. I take out my GPS to record where we start: N 40.66188, E 117.27609; elevation 306m.
The first stretch of the wall here is fully restored but it’s quite steep down to a (metal) bridge across the river where we have to buy our next ticket to be able to cross (5Ұ), and from there up a steep incline again. This is especially hard because there are very high steps on the steepest stretches, almost too high for my short legs: I have to literally push myself up and tire quickly. I’m soon the last of the group. But after the restored stretch ends it gets even harder: it’s still just as steep here but now on the broken stones and rubble it gets hard to keep my left foot horizontal to spare my sprained ankle. A good thing I took my monopod which doubles as a walking stick: I really need it here.
All around me is my reward: a landscape of endless rolling steep hills and low mountains, mostly untouched, over which the Great Wall snakes from hilltop to mountaintop with a tower on top of each. And all that in glorious sunshine with a blue sky. With still a long way to go, I can’t stop every moment to take pictures but I still take quite a few. Still, the enormous scale of this defense wall in the landscape is hard to capture in pictures. Tourists are coming by the bus full to look at the wall, and a few of them even walk to a tower and back, but it only really sinks in when you actually feel it with your feet, going from hilltop to hilltop, up and down and up and down. Hikers on the wall are from all over the world, but the only Chinese are their guides. At what I think is the highest point I take another measurement with my GPS: we’re now at N 40.67046, E 117.26532; and 502 m high (later I see the next tower is just a little higher still, but not by much).
Marie Josee worries about my slow pace and asks if I want to go back — but we just left the hardest part behind us: no way am I going back to walk those steep stretches again. So on we go and luckily we hear of an easy shortcut below the wall that will save us a several towers. We decide to take it. All over the wall are Mongolians selling books, postcards, T-shirts and other souvenirs: the Mongolian border is nearby. They can be quite bothersome though: if you don’t say “no” firmly enough they’ll come after you and keep following. When we want to take the shortcut, a Mongolian woman comes with us, and shows the way (obviously hoping to sell us something) — a good thing though since it’s only a narrow trail, at places hard to see, and not at all as “easy” as the people telling us about it suggested. Just when I think we’ve had the hardest part, already close to where the path joins the wall again, I suddenly find myself stretched out along the path flat on my belly! There was a tree root in the shadow that I missed completely… Marie Josee comes running back, and the Mongolian woman wants to pull me up and starts dusting me off. “No, wait,” I gesture, and just sit up first, putting out feelers in my body to see how it feels: no alarm signals come back. Then I allow the two women to pull me up and slowly I stand: I can still walk, but my legs are quite shaky.
The woman offers to take my backpack and camera bag, and Marie Josee starts bargaining with her — she asks 50Ұ: far too much, 15 would be OK. At first she refuses, so Marie Josee takes my bags but later she agrees after all. She helps me over all the difficult spots, too, giving me a hand for support or to pull me up: of course she’s earning some money but she is genuinely caring. After the shortcut, the wall seems easier; I stop every now and then to take pictures again. The Wall and the landscape are still breathtakingly beautiful and impressive.
We have to buy another ticket for the last stretch of the wall and Marie Josee nearly starts a fight with the woman selling the tickets: last year she was in the same spot selling fake tickets but after some to and fro it turns out this time the tickets are for real — and needed.
A little before the point where we have to leave the wall the woman says she has to go back now: the border closes at a certain time and it’s a long walk back. But the last stretch is restored wall again and easier to walk on although I find the inclines harder to walk down than the steps. But Marie Josee is now carrying my bags and I can manage on my own. We find Henk, Carla and Gwendoline have been waiting for us (the ladies are quite tired as well) and with our little group we walk down to the parking place to meet the rest of the group.
We find our driver with a new bus — and just two of the group: the rest has not appeared yet! First we all sit down to have a drink (Marie Josee treats me to a beer) and wait. But soon we get restless: where can they be? If they walked on, they’ll find they can’t go further at one point but will have to walk a long way back: we may be in for a long wait… When they finally appear we hear their story: they did indeed miss the road down to the parking place and walked on to the next tower, spotting us through their field glasses and deciding to wait for us there; when they could no longer see us and we didn’t appear it dawned on them they were too far and went back. Lucky for them (and us) they didn’t walk any further!
Back in the hotel at 9:30 after a long drive through the falling evening, I go out with Carla and Gwendoline to ‘our’ neighborhood restaurant where for a change I have a good appetite: the chicken with cashew nuts is delicious!
Only then, back in my room, I finally take my shoes off and inspect my toes which started to hurt after my fall and are hurting even worse now. There’s nothing to see though: no swelling, no bruise: it can’t be too bad. Hopefully it will be better before Nepal!
Sunday 2007-04-08 - Shibam, Yemen
Manhattan of the desert
This afternoon we go with the whole group for a visit to old Shibam, which we passed yesterday on the way to Sey’un — I find it unbelievable that a visit to this city, a UNESCO World Heritage Site since 1982, was not part of the original planning.
Unlike most cities in Wadi Hadramawt which are built nestling at the foot of a mountain or little way up, the walled city of Shibam is built on a free-standing hill in the valley. Just one square kilometer within the walls, it’s not surprising that the large family houses here are narrow and with even more floors than usual, built closely together. The buildings are even higher than the mosque’s minaret. Indeed, the skyline reminds one somewhat of a city with skyscrapers, earning it its epithet - but there the comparison with Manhattan stops.
Through the single whitewashed city gate one comes onto a square, and from there on it’s a labyrinth of winding narrow streets and alleys and an occasional courtyard, between the high-rising houses. The predominant color is that of the clay tiles the houses are built from and plastered with, but sometimes the upper part of a house is whitewashed, and there are surprising splashes of color: here dark-red window frames, there window niches painted bright blue; bright red or blue curtains (often on the outside of the window frames) flapping in the breeze, the lower part of a wall facing a courtyard painted a very bright green. In between all this troops of goats roam around, women go their own way in there elegant flowing black robes (often covering them completely, including a face veil, and often even black gloves), children are cheerful, and sometimes eager to be photographed (but not all). One can roam around here for hours and never be bored: it’s feast for the eyes.
Suddenly we hear music and follow our ears — we’d spread out as usual, but now we all arrive where the music is. There’s a growing crowd in the street, a little procession with musicians in front walks up and down — what’s happening? After a while it becomes clear: another wedding is taking place, the first day of it here. I don’t manage to catch a glimpse of the groom (or bride) but after walking up and down several times the musicians sit down at the edge of a big carpet spread out for them in the middle of the street. This becomes the dancing floor where the men dance, in small parties, taking turns. Unlike in Sana’a though, we’re not treated as special guests, and have to find our own (polite) ways of catching some glimpses. Still, most of us hang around for quite a while until it’s nearly time to go. The music and dancing made our visit to Shibam extra-memorable.
Monday 2007-04-09 - Tarim, Yemen
The holy city of Hadramawt
Yemen’s religious aristocracy, the Sa’da, is based in Tarim; the city has countless mosques, and many domed tombs of important religious figures are found around the city. It seems that during the first period after the prophet Mohamed’s death, when many lost their faith, this was the only place in the Hadramawt where the people remained true to Islam.
On our way to Tarim we make a short stop at the tombs of holy Ahmad bin Assa and his son; situated right next to the road to Tarim, one tomb is only accessible though the mosque via 127 steps up the mountain. At the gate it says entrance is for Muslims only but we try our luck anyway; but talk as we may, we’re not let in. That said — that where we just ended up is Ahmad bin Assa’s tomb is something I (later) deduce from my travel guide; our intention was to visit the tomb of Sheikha Sultana, the first female scholar in Wadi Hadramawt; she was a Sufi, and — exceptionally for a Muslim woman — remained single (though Sufis were often celibate); people came from afar to seek her advice. After her death she was buried in a green-domed tomb, to be found one kilometer off the road along a track. But that’s not where we are… so we must be at Ahmad bin Assa’s tomb!
Our visit to Tarim itself starts with a visit to a museum: the Al Kaff Palace “Ish snaa” — it is an old palace of the Al Kaff family, until the revolution here the unofficial rulers in Tarim. They had become incredibly wealthy through trade with Indonesia, where many people from Wadi Hadramawt emigrated to and got wealthy there through clever trading. The Al Kaff family played an important role in the development of the area, financing the first road to the coast, the first schools in the wadi, etc. Sadly the house badly in need of restoration, but it is very interesting to roam around in an old rich house like this. Apart from some old photographs, a mirror and a broken lamp, there are no objects here; it’s the building itself that is on display. There’s a large variety of rooms, each with heir own decorations, beautiful carved wooden window frames with colored glass, a large bathroom, the kitchen, and a nice view from the roof. We spend quite some time looking around.
From there we walk to the city center through a winding street ending up at the market square, where the Sultan’s palace stands. Unfortunately it’s incredibly hot here, so much so that even I have trouble dealing with the 44°C even though the air is very dry. So when we arrive at the market most of us quickly dive into a little restaurant around the corner where it’s cool, to await the cars which will pick us up at the market place. More time, and a somewhat lower temperature would be needed to really enjoy Tarim.
