Al-Houdada

This weekend I FINALLY made it out of Sanaa and went to the beach town of Al-Houdada on the Red Sea. Joining me were my housemate Sonia, two Frenchmen (Olivier and Eric) and a guy from Madagascar (Tojo).

The purpose of the trip was twofold. The first was to have some sort of adventure outside of Sanaa. I haven't left the city since I got here, which is akin to going to LA and not leaving your hotel. Most you need is there but you have to get out anyway.

The other reason was to decide if I was going to stay in Yemen until March. I have a group of kids at the gas company that I feel obligated to be there for. They will be finishing in March and my heart tells me that that is the right thing to do. On the other hand, I am not really wanted here, things between me and Schmucko (see below) are getting worse and I really feel that I am ready to move on.

The trip actually made a good case for staying in Yemen (haven't decided yet, actually I have but I will save that for another blog entry) but in the wrong way. I chose Al-Houdada because my recent experiences have been so negative that I thought it would only be fair to make the decision while with a nice group of friends on a pretty beach. However, the minute I got off the bus I remembered something vital about living in a tropical climate that I apparently blacked out upon leaving Samoa.

Tropical climates are hot. And humid. And there are a lot of bugs.

I had forgotten what it was like eating dinner with one hand waving away the bugs and the other getting food into my mouth before something flew into it. Sonia ordered a tea at one point but 30 seconds pushed it away after a fly flew into it.

Do I really want to do this to myself again?

Hot weather aside, I had a great time. I will really let the pictures here do the talking. The trip up there was the best part (apart from my motion sickness partway through) and it was the most beautiful scenery that I have ever seen, although the road was terrifying with huge drops and pathetic guard rails to protect us. After a while I fell asleep, and awoke to a sight that was both familiar and strange- a landscape with no mountains. I don't think that I have seen anything like that since I left Iowa years ago!

Upon arriving in Al-Hodata, we were escorted to our hotel room. Turns out that it wasn't really a hotel room actually. I had worried about staying in a bug-infested hellhole but when I opened the door I found that we had been booked into what can only be described as a suite, complete with a kitchen and living room with Satalite TV. I was prepared to spend my break there.

Sonia went to pray and I found out later that hotel rooms come equipped with both a prayer rug and a helpful sign telling one where Mecca is. Something I would not have thought of were I in the Middle Eastern Hotel biz, but very important!! After a rest, we went out and had a meal of fish on the beach where I became reaqauinted with flies and more flies.

We went with a MALI student named Tamir who was a real gentleman. His cousin, Mohammed, showed up in his SUV (yes, Sarah) and took us on a whirlwind tour around Al-Houdata. With little care for his suspension he drove off-road onto the beach and we bounced around the dunes screaming our heads off. We hit a local fish market (not literally, but close to it) and Mohammed impressed me by telling off a guy who was beating a mule with a stick. The man was making the poor animal carry too much ice and Mohammed told him that he hoped that his ice fell into the sea for the way that he was treating the animals. We became quick friends and I told him that I would happy to be his second wife.

While cruising through town we encountered a few checkpoints. They looked at the car suspiciously until it became clear that they were traveling with an American, and then we were waved right through. Did they honestly think that I would get troops there if they didn't do as I said? One of the guards kindly asked if I needed bodyguards to join me in my travels. I told him no thank you, I left quite safe with my current escorts. The French were pissed at my royal treatment. (Perhaps if they had joined the Coalition of the Willing then they would have been offered bodyguards too.)

Another highlight of the trip was when Sonia and I got our hands henna-ed. I had shied away from this custom because when a friend of mine had it done she broke out into an ugly rash. Turns out that she got the black henna, I went with red. As you can see, Tamir's cousin did a bang-up job.

The next day when we hit the beach I stayed in the water for only a half hour and then vainly choose to sit in the sand and read a book. I said that I was tired but really I just didn't want the ink to fade. (That, and I am understandably not particularly interested in hanging out in the water after a year and a half in Samoa.) We took a boat to an isolated beach and the guy stopped and let us jump out and play in the coral reefs of the Red Sea.

Back to Sanaa for a week of work hell.

Can't wait until I can get out again...