 | DAY 9 |
Sana'a | |
Street scenes in Old Sana'a.
Merchants of hot peppers and bananas, everything imaginable can be found in the old souks.
Dates and spices. There are parts of the souks that are specialized in each item. The spice souk, the gold souk, the djambia souk, etc.
Intoxicating smells of spices
Bright and shiny djambias
Yemen was the first maker of coffee, originating in the town of Mokha (mocha) in the 1700's.
Although tea seems to be the more popular drink nowadays.
Women appear more frequently in Sana'a than other parts of Yemen.
These two sell freshly baked bread. | |
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Woke up late, around 10. Went to the old town to the souks. We had lunch with the merchants who sold us the spices. We had the national Yemeni dish salta, but this time without hulba that green boiling stuff. We had gone in to buy spices and spent somewhere near two hours in the store. We stocked up on all the spices that go into making Yemeni tea, as well as a variety of other spices for cooking, some local coffee, and incense still in rock form. We spent such a long time there that eventually they asked us if we'd join them for lunch, at which point one of the men ran off to his house to have his wife cook, and came back twenty minutes later with a steaming dish that we dug into. It was one of the greatest meals. Then we went to this tourist office to reserve a car for tomorrow, because we still want to go up North and to the Red Sea coast. There are no buses for the routes we want to take, and we're not allowed to rent our own car, so this is our only option. As every other type of administration in Yemen, getting the trip and prices prepared took hours. So we asked the guys if they wouldn't mind buying us some qat, as we were still inexperienced in figuring out where to buy it from, whether it was good quality and for how much. We enjoyed the time in the office, talking to the various people who work there. We chewed qat, which at this point I began mixing with banana chewing gum - it takes the bitterness away, prevents the grass from swirling all over my mouth and makes it easier to chew. Once done, Aida and I had planned to go to the hammam (public bath) next door. It was dark, humid and smelled funny as we walked in a bit like the incense at church. I felt so ill at east and uncomfortable. Foreign, naked, fat, being started at and not understanding. I have a very difficult time understanding the women in this country perhaps because their dialect is so far removed from fus'ha. The two of us went inside our own "room" although open to others and bathed. I was confused as to what to do but I just followed Aida. Two faucets of water flowing into a pool built into the wall that leaks onto the floor and into an opening in the "hallway." Interesting engineering. Every room farther in got hotter and humider. I didn't think I would stand it. We wet ourselves with these tin cans we would fill with water and then scrubbed each other with olive oil soap. Lying down on the floor my cousin forcefully scrubbing me. A young girl came in to scrub me as well although she didn't do as good job as Aida. We rinsed and cooled off in an outer room. Went back to wash our hair and scrub again. I think we must have stayed two hours or more in there and the whole time chewing qat too! It was strange to see these women almost in full nudity most wore some loose cloth or skirt from the waist or hips down to hide their genitals. We stayed in our underwear. I could see across from our room a lady, probably our age, washing herself taking her time to scrub every part of her body. Big breasts, full figure, long black hair that she combed dutifully. Then she scrubbed her daughter laboriously as well. They dried themselves in the main room which is all black and musty except for the white ceiling and drops of white paint on the floor. Sitting on these spread out pieces of carpets of plastic. Somehow managing without being awkward, unlike me, to dry themselves while hiding their bodies. We stepped out of the hammam, I felt rejuvenated, totally relaxed, scrubbed down to my baby skin, soft, refreshed. We stopped for some tea and wrote some postcards. In about ten minutes, I felt weakened by the bath and the qat. My body felt light and heavy at once, it was refreshing to be out of the dark humid hammam, but I think the entire experience was too relaxing, let alone with the qat I had been chewing for four or five hours now. Went back to the souks in the dark. Sana'a at night is beautiful with the mosaics lit up in the windows. It's dark on the streets, walking on the uneven cobbled streets seeing only silhouettes walking by, of men only. It's so rare to see females at night. The souks were beautiful at night, each shop lit up with its merchandise glimmering. It felt like we were living in one of the stories of A Thousand And One Nights. I'm getting sick and tired of the "hellos" as we walk by. The beggars and the occasional man following us with a djambia is still ok annoying but I can live with it. But the "hellos" I can't take anymore, staring at us like we're from outer space, talking about us, eyeing us, screaming their stupid hellos. I was ready to scream at the end! The driver that we will have tomorrow, Hamid, drove us home so that he knows the way tomorrow. We then went with Nabil to run an errand and the maghbazah for some dinner I like that place. I'm excited about being on the road again. I've felt so lazy since being in Sana'a. We're going to camp a few nights too which should be interesting. We're going to Sa'da, through some cities on the way. Spend a night there. Then go down to Hajjah to camp in the mountains; then to the Red Sea for camping on the beach, then on to Manakhah and back to Sana'a. We intend to come back on Saturday and do some more souks and maghbazah and off to the airport early Sunday morning. I want to write more, but I'm exhausted by the end of the day. At times it feels like I'm missing out on what I'm seeing like it's too much and I can't keep track and register everything. I can't keep up with all the senses only the smells in this place are so much to write about. The spices, the garbage, the food cooking, the people, the incense, the smell of money and iron on my hands. The sounds: tons of noise, people arguing, screaming at each other, the car horns, the motorcycle engines, the mosques, the "hellos," the kitchens, the radios. Endless! The alleys of different souks woodworkers, steel-smiths, those who sell everyday kitchen and household items, the typical tourist shops, the black market money exchangers shoving wads of cash in your face and screaming their rates |