First full day in Yemen, up to Kawkaban
Trip Start
Dec 15, 2008
1
5
9
Trip End
Dec 23, 2008
Kawkaban,
Yemen
Thursday, December 18, 2008
I was happy to see that the day dawned clear, and I took some more photos of old Sana'a before having breakfast at the hotel. I rearranged my gear, taking only my small backpack with me on my overnight trip to Kawkaban. It was still plenty heavy with the laptop, camera, 2 guidebooks, tripod, some snacks, and just one change of underclothes. The weight would slow me down later, when I climbed to Thilla fortress and up to Kawkaban village.
After leaving the Taj Talha Hotel I was walking through the narrow streets of old Sana' when an elderly man on a motorcycle rounded a corner and stopped right in front of me
Sanaa's architectural beauty
. He reached into his jacket and pulled something out to give me. It was a pamphlet that explained in English why I should convert to Islam. He smiled and sped off, leaving me to think this missionaries in Yemen were similar to those in America, only evangelizing different faiths. I had to get photocopies of the travel permits issued by the police on the previous afternoon, but not many places were open at 8 am. I got them done at the post office for no charge, thanks to a nice employee there.
Next I had to find transport to Shibam and Hababah. At first I was going to take a public minibus, but after waiting almost 10 minutes it still was sitting there waiting to fill up so I got off and snagged a taxi. The driver was the son of a diplomat and spoke good English, although I probably ended up paying more than I should have. He didn't even give me a price at the end, just saying to pay whatever I like. I hate that response to my question of "how much?"
I then caught a shared taxi to Shibam for $1, squeezing into the back seat with a carload of Yemeni men. At a police checkpoint I had to show my travel permit, and for some reason the soldiers made us wait 15 minutes as they checked it. I felt bad that I was holding up all of the other passengers, and at one point an old guy in our car stormed out to argue with the officials or maybe to tell the driver to just leave me behind so that we could get going.
From Shibam I took an absolutely decrepit taxi to Hababah
Islam is all-pervasive in Yemen
. This was one of the villages whose image I'd seen on the internet, and the view in person did not disappoint. The village cistern provided a beautiful foreground to the tower houses and I shot many photos, including some self-portraits using my tripod. There were no hassles from kids as I had read about, and some local boys with jambiyyas in their waistband were happy to pose for photos after they had collected water for their homes. I had great pleasure looking at the photos on my laptop later. They were some of the best photos I had gotten in Yemen yet.From Hababah I paid $2.50 for a taxi to Thilla where I found a pre-wedding celebration in progress. I wished I had the video camera to capture the men dancing while waving their jambiyyas, with deafening drumming creating a festive mood. It was fun to watch, in part because I was the only foreigner on hand.
I climbed up to the fortress above Thilla, rising to 9300' and feeling like I was in the worst shape of my life, seeing that I hadn't done much recent running due to my sciatica problem. Carrying the 15 pounds on my back didn't help, either. The good news was that my periformus muscle felt surprisingly good, and perhaps all of the hiking had helped to loosen it up. I went with a guide and paid him $2.50 for his time and effort
Self-portrait in Hababah
. I really didn't need him, but when I thought about the contributions I give to church or other charities, I felt like this was a way to more directly help an underemployed person. His explanations did help a bit, pointing out ancient inscriptions as well as granaries dug vertically into the top of the sedimentary plateau. I was more impressed than I expected, with fine views over the surrounding plains, a hodge-podge of colors in the fields far below.After Thilla my goal was to get to Shibam for lunch, and I took another taxi to go that 15 km. I went to the highly recommended Hamida restaurant where I was presented an unbelievable smorgasbord of Yemeni food meant for 3 or 4 people. There were various Yemeni dishes which I read about in the guidebook while I was eating, plus rice, potatoes, goat meat, and bottled water. It was a magnificent feast for just $5, but I felt guilty that I couldn't even eat a quarter of it.
After lunch it seemed that there were no shared taxis going up the hill to Kawkaban, so I walked the steep stone steps that had been reconstructed with UNESCO's help a few years back.. It was a pleasant climb but tiring, and it was a very nice hike as long as I ignored all of the trash along the way. I had the trail all to myself other than a father walking down with his wailing daughter, who wasn't much older than Sophia
Local girls in Hababah
. I shuddered to think of taking Sophia on such steep stone steps.In Kawkaban I got a room in Hotel Gabal Kawkaban, a tower house belonging to Mr. Yahia, a great guy who alone made my feelings for Yemen grow fonder. I got a basic room about 10 feet square with pads and carpets on the floor, but no furniture at all. The total price for the night was only $12.50, including a delicious dinner and breakfast. The Yemeni shared bathroom was stinky and there wasn't any toilet paper, but that barely diminished my love for the place, largely due to the homey feel that Yahia created. He would even walk into my room unannounced, bringing tea and a plate full of nuts, raisins, and candy. There was a functioning electrical outlet in the room so I was able to work on photos while listening to old Dennis Prager podcasts, so I would not get bored for one minute. There was even hot water for a shower, so I was perfectly fine, but I wouldn't have felt comfortable bringing Sophia and Suzan there.
After dinner the quiet of the hilltop village was pierced by a loudspeaker not so far in the distance, and at first I assumed it was another Muslim call for prayer. After all there were 8 mosques in the tiny village, home to maybe 500 people. I usually considered the blaring, incomprehensible wail as a sort of noise pollution, acceptable considering my location, but not soothing like church choirs I remember from Togo, Romania, and Fiji. This noise wasn't coming from a mosque after all, but was part of a pre-wedding celebration. A pickup led a very slow procession of men through the rough dirt roads of Kawkaban, with a generator in the bed to provide energy for the loudspeaker and a flood light. The light was strong enough for me to take some nice non-flash photos of the groom all decked out in traditional Yemeni wedding costume complete with a shiny, golden sword over his shoulder. He gently held the hand of his father next as he proceeded through the village, and they were following the custom of not smiling during the time leading up to the wedding. I wondered how well he even knew his bride, as the wedding was probably most certainly arranged by the parents. It was a magnificent cultural experience, partly because it was so unexpected. I was glad to be in a village for the Muslim weekend rather than out in the wilderness of Socotra Island like I had originally planned.
I went to sleep by 830 pm, and it had been a great day.
