My return to Yemen was marked by a series of uninviting events including an Egyptian girl puking next to me on the plane when landing in Sana'a (so not fun) and being scammed out of money by the airline Yemenia. I had a horrid six hour layover connection in Sana'a en route to Aden and the Yemenia manager at Sana'a International Airport swore I had no ticket continuing on to Aden, despite the fact that all the information was in the computer system and my bags were checked all the way through from Cairo to Aden.
The Sana'a International Airport is small, and for six hours I as harassed by various Yemenia officials demanding I buy another ticket in order to fly to Aden. At some points, I wondered if the man was trying to rob me or if he was just plain stupid. My conclusion was a combination of the two.
I staunchly refused to pay, at times screaming they were dirty thieves and liars, however after they threatened to throw my bags off the plane I finally caved and paid for another ticket telling them all they would rue the day they met me…I really don’t think they cared. One of the other passengers who witnessed my harassment felt so bad for me that he insisted I meet his family and have them ride me from the airport home, his little cousins even carried all my luggage for me. It somewhat made up for the sorry excuse for night manager running the Yemenia office in Sana'a. But no worries, I will be getting a refund as I went to another office and pleaded my case with one of my former students who happens to be a general manager for Yemenia. It helps being a teacher here, everyone loves you.
I spent an amazing ten days in Egypt. The work week in Yemen ends on Wednesday. I spent extra time at MALI that evening preparing the final grades. I handed them in a manila envelope to the man who manages the café to give to Abeer in the morning. I ran home to get my things in order for my departure from Yemen. I first stopped at a phone booth to phone the Arabia Felix hotel in Sana’a to ask if there was space available. I had difficulty because I didn’t know the code for Sana’a and in the process ran into Salam, my Arabic teacher. He told me that I need to dial a zero and finally I reached the hotel by phone, confirmed space and then waited for Khaled to pick me up for a ride to the airport.
My relationship with Khaled is and was an odd one. He was my ‘boyfriend’ or so he says, to me it was just a bizarre relationship. I have no emotional attachment to the boy and he is completely self absorbed with his image and detached from reality and to what it is to have a girlfriend. He also was in love with the fact he was with an American. He did not like me, he liked my foreign identity.
He came wearing his Raja Taxi suit, driving his Yellow Mini van. We had an awkward parting. It was as if he were a taxi driver and we had never known each other. He asked when I would return and I told him maybe I wouldn’t. I had the thought many times while packing that maybe I should take everything with me. But I didn’t and as I write this I am in Aden, so it never happened.
My flight to Sana’a was uneventful. When I deboarded the plane I had my first feeling of being cool and dry since arriving in Aden. I look forward to when I move to Sana’a at the end of June to escape the steamy heat of Aden. Once arriving I had the experience of trying to get my bag. Apparently it causes confusion when you have a 10 hour layover and want to get your luggage. After changing various offices and clarifying that I just needed my small grey bag it was delivered and I found a taxi to take me to the Arabia Felix.
My cab driver at first was distant but after realizing I spoke Arabic he never shut up. He asked if I chewed qat, I said no, but that didn’t stop him from grabbing a bag of balaadi qat from under his visor and dumping a large amount into my reluctant hands. We chewed, we talked, he drove. He also helped me carry my bags into the hotel. The men at the reception found it funny the ijanaab checking in at two in the morning had a mouth full of qat. They told me I would not sleep. I smiled, saying ‘mafeesh mushkeela’ and they laughed.
When I woke I felt I had entered a new world, even though it was the same country I had been living in since February. My view of the Old City in Sana’a was outstanding, the ginger bread houses, children playing and tribes men meandering through the stone alley ways with the back drop of the mountains in the distance. I look forward to moving there in a month's time.
My taxi driver from the night before returned to pick me up in the morning at 8:30 am. I was enjoying the complimentary breakfast when he arrived and told him to wait. And so he did. He had brought me a juice and told me he had stayed awake all night chewing qat I front of Bab al Yemen.
When I boarded the plane I first thought I would have trouble with a Yemeni man sitting next to me. His wife was sitting in my bulkhead seat next to the window and I had the flight attendant move her. My seat was broken and kept reclining, making for an interesting take off. To my surprise the man sitting next to me turned out to be a highlight of the trip, chatting me up in Arabic, introducing me to his family and giving me Arabic lessons. He volunteered to change seats with me so he would be in the broken one and when I left, he gave me his contact info in Sana’a, telling me I must come to several weddings.
Once clearing customs and gathering my bags I had a gracious de-veiling in front of duty free in the airport. My headscarf was the first to fall and a a child was in shock as I ripped the black dress off throwing it into my bag all in one motion. I immediately wheeled myself into duty free where I bought my full allowance of alcohol and cigarettes. Several Yemeni men followed doing the same.
My cab ride to Garden City was an intense flashback to my past Egyptian life. From bartering with the driver, to him telling me repeatedly how ‘helwaa’ I was also included my hanging me head out the window screaming in joy everytime I saw a familiar landmark.
It was a return to the past, it was a return to a place familiar, to a place I now to refer to as home. Will returning to the United States ever feel so good?
