 | DAY 7 |
Sana'a | |
Kids in the back of a pick up trick, the regular way of transportation in this country.
Always ready to smile for a soura (picture).
Detailed architecture at its best.
The tower of the mosques always stand out, yet somehow blend in unnoticeably.
We managed to sneak into a girls' school and take some rare pictures of young girls.
Some were willing to pose and smile...
Others would hide behind their books. | |
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Woke up late. Had our showers, did some laundry. Abdo drove us to the Bab El Yemen, one of the entrances to the old city. Aida and I walked around. We met a local, Mohammad, who took us around the souks, and then to have lunch with his brother's family. They made a traditional Yemeni dish and begged that we take pictures of their two sons to send to them in return. Mohammad bought us some qat. He is really nice to us (as are most people in this country), and answered every question I had about Yemen. He does computer work at the Ministry of Health but his passion was poetry, so when we were walking around the streets, he was intoxicating me with line after line of his favorite poetry. He then took us to some friends of his and left us there to go to work. The house was filled with women, the mother and a few of her girls, from their teens to their thirties. The younger one had just returned from school, and all of them were comfortably unveiled. It was nice to see them, in what to me was a more relaxed atmosphere, than when they're covered up outside. To see their faces, their bodies, their dresses, their bras even, it felt much more 'real'. We continued our walk; it started raining hard. We took refuge in the hotel we had stayed in our first night in town, had some tea, chewed the qat Mohammad had gotten for us. We chatted with some British women who were really interesting. One of them was a CNN reporter based in Kenya, the other a jewelry make who had come to Yemen to get inspired by the local art. It was a very relaxing afternoon, and for a change it was nice to talk to foreigners and relax from the Arabic. This couple came in from the rain for momentary shelter. They sat down across from us. The girl seemed so young and interested in us – poor thing, stuck to this older seemingly conservative husband. She started at us, probably in curious as well as disgust. Here we were single, free, uncovered, doing whatever we wanted, sitting at our leisure. We weren't bound by tradition like she was. She didn't speak, but her eyes said so much. I felt sorry for her, even if this is the way things are here. Similarly, I felt sorry for one of the girls that we had met at Mohammad's friend's house. She was only 18 and already had a three year old and an eight month old baby. |