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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.
Sunday 2007-04-08 - Sey’un, Yemen
Tea at the neighbor’s
In the evening we go into town with a small group in search of dinner. Just before the Sey’un market square we find a small restaurant; it looks clean, several people sit and eat there, so we decide to try it. The friendly black-bearded owner requests two customers to move to another table (which they do willingly and with a smile), so we can all sit together. He has a problem though: he doesn’t speak a word of English, and our Arabic isn’t up to scratch yet.
Presently, a young man appears, and offers to help us order our food. His English is excellent and he explains he isn’t an employee here but the owner of the restaurant next door (apparently he owner had gone to fetch help!). We ask for several dishes; some are not available — he does have them in his own restaurant, he says, but since we have already chosen to sit here… We can’t honestly say that next time we’ll go to him: we’re leaving tomorrow, but he has a brilliant idea: Maybe, he suggests, we can come for tea at his restaurant after our meal. We have a delicious dinner with rice, chicken, bread, vegetable stew, and extra (free) side dishes appear with chopped red onions, a spicy tomato sauce, and a plate with green peppers (spicy, but not terribly hot). We simply drink mineral water with it.
The owner asks us where we come from, and beams. The whole meal costs us less than 350 YR per person with change to spare (no tip accepted).
Then we go to the neighbor’s restaurant for tea. Henk asks, carefully, if maybe he has some sweets with it? No, the owner says, but he can get some for us, no problem. He disappears and presently returns with three plastic bags, and starts to unload them onto plates. First, a plate with four (big) croissants. Next, a plate with a pile of small cakes. The third bag contains something like egg cakes, but we convince him this is already more than enough. No problem, he says, we’ll only pay for what we eat. All of us eat from the little cakes, so fresh they’re still warm, with a crispy crust on the outside, soft on the inside — they’re delicious. I’m not a cake person, but even I have one of them, they’re so good! And all of this can still be paid from the change we got back from our dinner.
Wednesday 2007-04-11 - As Sirrayn, Yemen
Shared riches
According to my map (copyright 2003), the road into Wadi Do’an stops in Al Khuraybah but it doesn’t — not anymore: A nice asphalt road leads us up and out of the wadi and it looks brand new.
Every little village here belongs to one family and it’s visible people here are wealthier than in other areas: the houses are more richly decorated, and the decorations are more colorful. Of every family here, one or two members work in Saudi Arabia, where they earn well, and send money home. As our driver Hussein tells us, just like the rich Al Kaff family financed the road from Wadi Hadramawt to the coast (and much else) in the 1930s, one man named Abdullah Boshan who got extremely wealthy in Saudi Arabia finances a lot of development project in this area. The new road we’re now following, which ultimately connects to the main road from Sey’un to Al Mukalla, is just one example of those projects. He also finances schools, drink water supply, and things like all the food during the Eid ul-Fitr celebration at the end of the Ramadan month. Also, if a couple wants to marry but doesn’t have the money for the wedding, he pays it for them.
We make a short stop at the fork in the road from where we can look down on his village, As Sirrayn; his house clearly stands out: an enormous family house, whitewashed with parts of walls painted in various cheerful pastel colors. Below us the road continues along the Wadi Do’an river to the village, while we just to the left fork which takes us up and out of the wadi.
Once out, after a steep climb, we’re on the high plain of the desert, the jol. Suddenly the landscape is totally different: the jol is almost flat, arid, with only very sparse vegetation — the green and fertile wadis with their rich palm groves completely hidden from view. You can see gullies eroded by water (when it rains, a lot of water flows, and there can be dangerous flash floods), but nowhere is there a view straight down. Yet, if you’d follow such a gully down, eventually you’d end up in a green wadi. For the early travelers in this area, the difference must have been astounding. During a short stop I take a few pictures of typical plants found on the jol.
The first part of this road probably follows the track indicated on my map, but farther on we dive down another steep pass at a point where there is not even a track; a sign says we’re at Mount Aballa Arib. Many hairpins later, we end up on the wide plateau along the south coast. Now we’re going down slowly, and after a while we can see the Arabian Sea in the distance. Along the road we stop for tea in Ladouas, a small village not found on our maps. The we join the main road from Wadi Hadramawt to the coast, and later turn right to Al Mukalla.
