Memento Mori

The Village People

How soon has Time, the subtle thief of youth,
Stol'n on his wing my three and twentieth year...
~John Milton, Sonnet VII

Well the 18th was my (Sean) twenty-fourth birthday, and a most surprising birthday it was. Nicholas, Ruth and I left at 7:00 a.m. for the village of Awadh's tribe (Awadh is our office assistant). We had been invited out there for a day of eating, shooting, and general cultural exchange. Five minutes down the road we turned off the highway and into the wilderness. Nick dropped his '86 SUV (the new company vehicle) into 4WD and we were in for a treat - two hours down a winding, narrow, dusty track through mountain, oases, and desert.

This is a shot of Awadh being sarcastic about Nick's speed along the way (the sense of humour thing is rare among locals but Awadh was actually raised in Kenya so maybe that explains it:)


We stopped just before the village for some preliminary practice shooting one of the Kalashnikovs. We both did all right and had no trouble whatsoever hitting the mountain that was right in front of us.


And here's a picture of what the village looked like on our approach - it appeared very small from a distance but when we got up close we discovered... it really is that small! Three mud houses and some stick huts for the animals. Home to a surprising number of people, though.

We were welcomed into the biggest house where Ruth was promptly ushered off into the women's living room (muffrage) while Nick and I sat with the men in theirs. For about an hour we had tea and took pictures (which delighted them) while Awadh translated little bits of the lively discussion happening between the elders - it was a debate on the current political situation in and between local tribes. One of the young men brought in an appetizer of bread and soup on a straw mat, while another asked Nick for his keys. Nick and I looked out the window to see his car, packed with the man and eight of his closest friends, disappear around the mountain. The gleeful expressions on thier faces made us a little nervous, but we trusted them... mostly.

When they came back the car was dirtier, they were still very happy, and there was a goat in the back seat! It was a spotless goat, very healthy too; they had chased it down on a mountain side and were slaughtering it in our honour. So it was out to the shed to watch the butchering, tell more stories, and hang out with the children while the meat was being prepared. Here's me with some kids and a shot of one of the elders processing various bits of goat innards. There was a little argument over who got to eat the raw kidneys, but other than that all was peaceful.














So the goat was grilled on rocks over coals and a wonderful feast was had (those are intestines in the lower left... nothing beats Intestines on a Stick;).















With lunch over someone decided it would be hilarious if they dressed up the ayjnabees (foreigners) in traditional Beduoin wedding clothes. So here we are with the children (although I'm wearing my own clothes here); everyone got a kick out of us, and it was great fun entertaining them.















I love this shot (no pun intended). Ruth says it's hard to take aim when your face is veiled, so considering that and the distance of the target, she did pretty good!

The drive back was quite eventful as well - we had to stop the car three times for animals in the road: once for goats (maybe looking for their missing friend), once for camels, and once for baboons! About twenty of them, but they disappeared before we could get our camera out:( A shame, though I'm sure we'll see them again. In the greener parts of Yemen baboons are quite common, and famers often capture them to use as gaurd animals - a post they fill with remarkable effectiveness given their ferocious and territorial nature.

Of all the animals, the baby goats were the most sociable - they didn't mind being held one bit:)

We arrived back in Mukalla at dusk, had a lobster dinner - blue lobsters - in a lovely restaurant, and took a cab back to our village. It was a wonderful way to spend my twenty-fourth birthday.

Under da sea!

Water, water everywhere but not a drop to drink.

Sean and I have had the pleasure of going scuba diving twice in the last six weeks and we have seen incredible sea creatures on both occasions!

Our first scuba experience was as follows: Sean, Nick and I went with an instructor-the actual instruction was a two minute briefing and in we went-to explore the bottom.

Tropical fish like the ones in this photo were everywhere!
Trumpet fish, clown fish, and dozens that I don't know the name of. We also saw blowfish (but no Hootie) with spines and some without.

I saw a strange fluttery looking fish that oddly enough neither Sean nor Nick had seen. It turns out it was a squid! When they swim along they keep all of their tentacles together so they look like an elongated fish from far away. Upon closer inspection I could see the "fluttery" part was a translucent sack over the head. Who woulda thunk it!?

On a sadder and somewhat dim-witted note.....
Mishap 1: I kicked a sea urchin. And not one of those adorable roundish sea urchins that you sometimes see washed up on the shore of the Maritimes, no! An extremely sharp-spined black sea urchin (see left)
that possesses a very eerie, vibrant blue glow in the centre.

Mishap 2: I had a lot of pain in my ears during the dive and afterwards because I hadn't understood our instructors mime-directions of how to pop your ears. I thought he meant to only pinch your nose (I missed the blowing part of his demonstration) and somehow this would help the pressure in your ears. I know, not one of my more brilliant moments, but I was a little nervous, ok? Well, needless to say my technique wasn't very effective, but after we came up I was correctly informed and all set for our next trip out.

Round two!

We added one more person to our motley crew and headed back to the Hadramout Hotel for another invasion of the Arabian Sea.
This time we were taken out along a coral reef which was teeming with fish of all colours, big and small. I was in the lead with Mohammed (our patient instructor) as he had seen from our last excursion the impressive level of my incompetence in the water. The others followed behind as we saw more than we knew existed. Although it was a little embarassing that I was so inept at scuba diving it did allow me the priviledge of having a guided tour with an eight-year veteran in these waters.















We saw blue-spotted stingrays, different varieties of tropical fish, larger versions of the ones previously seen, crabs , sea cucumbers, starfish, anemonae, stonefish (very hard to spot-but not for me thanks to my guide!) and Sean even saw a red octopus!

















All this for $60 each! Welcome to Yemen everybody.

Disclaimer: These photos are not our own, but we saw all of the creatures in them very close up. The picture of Sean and I with the starfish and sea cucumber is from a previous snorkeling adventure in the same spot.

Daily Bread

A baker in Old Sana'a dealing with a fresh batch of soldier bread.

Treasure Hunting

We made it back to the enchanting little village in the oasis; had some more time to explore and take photos. We also came out of it with a bit of a souvenir, which we're quite happy with. See that broken water jug at Ruth's feet? The other pieces were nearby, and now it's reassembled (minus the bottom, unfound) and sitting comfortably in our apartment. The fragment sitting beside it appears to be from the rim of a pot, but there were, unfortunately, no other pieces of that. The tables behind them are from India and were purchased in Old Sana'a.

More Trouble Brewing

Ruth (maiden name Coffey) found my coffee maker sign and modified it accordingly. It now reflects a little more accurately what really goes on around here.

It's getting hot in here.

Well we're one day in to the arrbaa'oon - the Forty Hottest Days. We'd heard rumours, whispers in the crowd. Nervous, shifty whispers. Around here the arrbaa'oon have a "those-we-do-not-speak-of" sort of presence. We don't know why the hottest days are in Spring and not in Summer. And how do the locals know exactly when they will start? Not sure - something to do with the moon. Earlier this week a student cautiously approached the subject in class: "Teacher... they start on Thursday." It was the way he said "they" that got to me - that and collective simultaneous grimacing of his classmates. Nobody likes the Forty Hottest Days.

Anyway, with deadly accuracy, he was right. The humidity is choking; the sun oppressive, violent. Yesterday we went snorkelling again (Thursday being the Yemeni Saturday) and that was a relief. Now it's Friday morning; one down, thirty-nine to go.

Recipe: cover country in sand; place in oven, bake until golden brown and completely dehydrated - about forty days.

Crab on Coral

Found this little fella climbing mountains all his own at Turtle Beach. Rock on little guy.