Day 9 - Yemen

Image by james_gordon_losangeles via Flickr

The house smells like curry. I made a variation of curried carrot and apple soup last night, to use up some leftover pumpkin (the variation), and that's where the aroma is from. I love curry and the aroma of the mixture of all those spices brings memories of Yemen flooding over me.

I spent one year - 13 months - in Yemen, one of the most exciting places I have lived.

Yemen. Living there is like living in a museum with exhibits from every century in history. In Sanaa, there are 21st century modern businesses in high rise buildings with websites catering to customers who have high speed Internet. And in the countryside, there are villages without any electricity or indoor running water where people get around on donkeys or by foot that look like they did in the 1st century. Even in Sanaa, there are glimpses of many different centuries, visible from the same spot just by turning to face a different direction.

Image by judaluz via Flickr

The best place to see the contrasts is in the Old City, a UNESCO Heritage site. If the gingerbread buildings there were to be found in the United States, they would have to be in Disneyland. But in Sanaa, people live in the buildings; they are not just curiosities for the tourists' entertainment. 

Western women, especially women in the diplomatic corps, have special status in Yemen. We are neither feared nor desired, a truly alien gender. And that means women in the diplomatic corps are invited to both women's events and men's events. It is a misperception that events in theMiddle East are limited to men only, although it is most accurate that many events are for women only. I attended both the women's and men's gatherings forweddings, for example. A western man will never been invited to join a women's event.

Image by eesti via Flickr

I never felt in danger when I went to the souk in the Old City, even when I went by myself. One evening during Ramadhan, I foolishly drove to the souk after work, just after sundown, and I found my car completely surrounded by pedestrians making their way out of doors after having broken the fast. I had a two-door Rav 4, a truly infant-sized vehicle among all the Toyota pickups and Landcruisers, but it was still too small to get through the narrow lanes without the risk of bumping into something or someone. An older man walked leisurely next to the passenger side and when he reached the level of my side mirror, he looked over at me, smiled, and pushed the hinged mirror against the body of the car to reduce its width by a few inches. So I rolled down my window and pulled the side mirror there against the car as well and then made slow progress to the end of that lane.

Most western men had a difficult time adjusting to driving patterns in Yemen. In contrast, I loved to drive there. Western men had a hard time giving up their sense of responsibility for keeping eyes open in all directions – ahead, behind, to the left, and to the right. The unpredictable traffic patterns, the non-functioning traffic lights, and the disregard for white lane markings on the road defeated any conscientious attempts to keep all the activity in mind. I chose to adapt to the local pattern which required that I only pay attention to what was in front of me. It was the other drivers’responsibility to keep track of me if they were behind me– even just a little bit behind me on either the right or the left. The first question the traffic police asked at the scene of an accident was “Who was in front?” The driver in front is never at fault.

Image by Roobee via Flickr

Most of us lived at least 20 minutes away from the Embassy, and since there were ring roads throughout the city, I could leave my compound and take off in any direction to get to work. It just took a little longer along some routes. We were advised to be unpredictable, to avoid being targeted and followed so I left the house at a different time every day and I made my decision whether to turn left or right at the intersection based on what color the first car I saw was – if it was white, I turned left; if any other color, I turned right. Along each route I picked out key intersections where I could follow that same pattern so that even I didn’t know exactly what route I would take to work. Sometimes I ran into obstructions that would have riled up others; I just put my Toyota into low gear and drove over or around.

After a few weeks of driving in Yemen I decided driving according to western patterns was boring – a little like marching through a ballroom instead of dancing. I mentioned this comparison of driving as dancing in Yemen to a friend and I later learned several of the shop owners in the souk called me the lady who danced with her car.

By the way, the soup wasn't anything to write home about. The carrots needed more cooking than the recipe called for. And adding the leftover pumpkin may have compromised the blend of flavors.

Curried Carrot and Apple Soup

Serves 4

2 tsp sunflower oil

1 tbsp mild curry powder

1 1/2 lb carrots, chopped

1 large onion, chopped

1 tart baking apple, chopped

3 1/2 cups chicken broth

Salt and black pepper

Plain low fat yogurt and carrot curls, to garnish

Heat the oil and gently fry the curry powder for 2-3 minutes.

Add the carrots, onions, and apple, stir well, then cover the pan.

Cook over very low heat for about 15 minutes, shaking the pan occasionally, until softened. Spoon the vegetable mixture into a food processor or blender, then add half the broth and process until smooth.

Return to the pan and pour in the remaining broth. Bring the soup to a boil and adjust the seasoning before serving in bowls, garnished with a swirl of yogurt and a few carrot curls.

From Low Fat Low Cholesterol Cooking, edited by Anne Sheasby