My Padang-Bukit Tinggi trip

I went there in May. Just sharing my photos

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Preventing Entropy of Mind and Heart

Kenyir lake

This is nothing to do with Kenyir but is a cultural show in Bukit Tinggi ( Sumatra).I was there two weeks ago

This is me in front of the cabin in Kenyir Resort about a couple of months ago. Observe the mp4 hanging around my neck. This was an entropy preventing trip of seeking beauty in nature and reflecting on my spiritual teachers words ( the mp4)

This is the cabin from outside

What has triggered this topic is a combination of human actions and reactions and my current project: A book on EQ.

This book has been good for me in more ways than one.

• It has induced me into becoming aware of my emotions and how I interact with people
• It has made me even more convinced to always try new things
• It has made me more persistent in my efforts to balance my emotions , experience peace and joy in the depth of my being
• Last but not least, remove from the environment the polluting effects of my own toxic emotions by not feeling them .

What has all this got to do with entropy?

On a discussion recently on the sufi studies list , while discussing about human behaviour Mushtaq mentioned the word entropy in the way things happen . Even when things start out as lofty ideals and best intentions , it kind of deteriorates over the years and naturally depraved human beings give in to their egos and lusts and desires.

This is getting complicated so I will just stop here with a few observations and suggestions

When was the last time you REACTED rather than RESPONDED?
What I mean by this is you jumped to conclusions, made judgment on a person who is communicating with you and became absolutely angry and out of control and then started to exchange insults?

If you tell me you did that in the past one week then my next question is ...

What have you been doing recently to stop brain and heart rot? I am not talking about some rare disease caused by germs or viruses but the all too human tendency not to do things that develop the brain and the heart.

What are these activities you want to know?

Here are some suggestions

• Pray with full focus and and concentration
• Contemplate on beauty - nature , poems , music etc..( What is that? These things don't move you ...aiyooo.....come see me to unsupress , I will give you a homeopathic remedy )
  
• Learn a new skill
• Read a book that is not essentially junky
  
• Memorise a verse or saying or ayat that is soul food
• Do something you have not done before
• Reflect on your deeds without being defensive
• Stop finding excuses for your shitty behavior
  
• Hug a kitten or a tree if you do not have a kitten
• play with young children ( tolerating them while feeling rotten does not count)
  
• Did something positive for someone out of the sheer goodness of your heart ( force yourself to do this if you cannot find the goodness -hopefully it will have to surface -unless the rot is total! )
  

How will you know you have stopped the brain and heart rot ?
When you cannot remember when the last time you yelled in anger because of your intolerance and judgmental attitude and your heart does not easily contract in anger and tension and your mind is not constantly thinking of ways to entertain your jaded senses.

Yemen Mukalla 7

The Bugshan residence in Wadi Doan

It was already dark when we reached Mohamed's village . From the road looking down I saw a road lined with street lamps leading to a building that looked from the distance like a hotel.
It was the Bugshan residence, like a castle rising up from the bare stone of the terrain, like a fairy tale castle transported to this bare windswept village by a genie.

We never got to see the Osama Ben Laden residence , but we were told that he had a large house there , but he has never been back for very many years!Indeed , he must be the most famous or shall we say notorious resident who hails from Wadi Doan.

The Toyota Hilux lumbered on like a camel onto the road that was not , to Mohamed's family home. I am told that the rains wash away most of the roads here as well. Another square 4 story building that had 12 rooms . It was now very dark and we could not see the village in its entirety . It was the price I and my friends paid for my carelessness in losing my passport or, perhaps it is meant to be , for having not had the chance to fully appreciate this mountain village , my wanderlust might just take me there once again in the future.

We were met at the door by Mohamed's mother , two sisters and nephew. They were very happy to see us and we had brought some gifts for them.

Mohamed's mother is young in spite of having r children. Mohamad is number 4 and the younger of two boys. I talked to her in my broken Arabic and we got along well in spite of the language barrier.

We could not stay long and she made Mohamed promise to drive slowly and take us to dinner on the way back.

Eating at a roadside restaurant on the way back to Mukalla

We stopped by a roadside restaurant where there were no tables and chairs, only partitioned carpeted areas where we ate on the floor , from a tray, Yemeni style and finished the meal with Chai , the sweet strong tea that is typical of the Arab world.

When we got back to Mohamed's town apartment , it was late but we had the difficult task of packing and throwing out whatever we could to lessen our luggage. In an earlier post I had mentioned we had too much luggage because we had to carry back exhibition materia since the freighter refused to carry it back.

At this point in time I remembered that our worldly existence is like a journey and understood well that traveling light was the best way . Blessed is the 'insan' who has few needs and travelled light!

In the morning , we said our goodbyes to the downstairs neighbour and went to the airport only to discover we had forgotten the long box of buntings. The very same box that had caused us to be late when arriving.

It turned out to be a blessing in disguise for , we were in excess by about 30 kgs having given away as many things as we could. Luckily for us , Mohamed negotiated with the airline people and we did not have to pay for excess luggage. Saying goodbye to Mohamed was not so difficult for we promised ourselves and him that we would meet again in Malaysia since he was coming to Malaysia again in January to continue his studies. He promised to bring the box of buntings with him and at the time of writing , the box is back with Mas!

Within an hour , we were in Sanaa airport.

Our connecting flight on Jazeera airways was delayed by two hours. That gave us a chance to meet up with a Malaysian couple who had been staying in Sanaa for three years.

Our meal at a restaurant in Sanaa. Bread on the table is typical!

Mas left with her a box of t shirts to help sell and the couple took us out for lunch . As in Mukalla , the restaurant immediately put a screen around our table so we could eat in private. The generosity of the Malaysian couple resulted in an overwhelming amount of food and I told them that there was no necessity for the huge tray of rice and I think a quarter of lamb! The waiter took it away and we had instead soup , Yemeni bread , vegetables and chicken !

Jazeera airways is like Air Asia and they did not tolerated access baggage. The ground crew looked at me and told me we were 17 kgs overweight. I stood dumbfounded for an instance and then asked her if we could hand carry some luggage. She said yes and then started to ask if we already had hand luggage and that we were only allowed 7 kg each. Before I could answer her superior called out to her that the line was slow and she was to hurry up and get the passengers checked it. It saved us because after Mas took out two catalogue stands, we were still about 7 kg in access.

Again I felt burdened by having to carry very heavy hand luggage but was grateful for the reprieve we got , Alhamdulillah!

Almost 3 hours later, we touched down and Dubai airport walked the very long halls with our heavy luggage , collected our bags , passed immigration and took a taxi back to the apartment which Mas's nephew shared with his friends.

As soon as we got down from the taxi I had an argument with Mas about dialling a local number.
I soon realised that all the time we were in Yemen , we never had any arguments that were as heated as the one we were having then and this realisation made me silent.

It was the energy of the place . In Yemen , no matter what troubles we were in the energy was calming. In Dubai there was a certain urgency and and certain tension in the air which heightened our emotions.

I will keep this in mind when I am back in Malaysia and working. I will bear in mind that the energy of the city is urgent and tense and will recollect the hills and valleys and the seas of Yemen and bring back the calming peace that helps me to surrender my will to that of the Beloved.

Hasbi Allah wa nikmal Wakeel.....

I think it would not be out of place for me to record the most important lesson I learnt from this trip.

I learned the true meaning of hospitality embodied in the the person of Mohamed, who had been longing to rest after a hectic time with the Malaysians in Mukalla only to find himself having to look after and entertain three ladies who were really rather unimportant, except to him, because we were his guests.

The End.....

Yemen Mukalla 5

This is Mohamed wearing traditional Yemeni clothes.He wears braces which he said he will remove only before he gets married !

He read my blog and complained I did not upload a picture of him
This picture was taken at a restaurant in Yemen. We had been taken there the same afternoon by Muneer who brought us to the first floor with alcoves which were screened off so that women who wore burkas could eat comfortably and families could have their privacy.

A favourite dish of mine Homous! We also had kebab and shawarmar with a hot chilli padi sauce!

Mohamed on the other hand brought us to the ground floor and we were the only ladies around!He insisted it was quite proper for us to eat there!

Ooops!!!

I have to add that the men were very polite and for the most part ignored our presence!
...........................................................................................................................................................

Muneer took us to Mohamed's house.It is a square building now with three stories ..The first two stories were rented out and the third story was for Mohamed to stay whenever he was in town in Mukalla. Since it was new , it was not yet furnished but it was carpeted and there were mattresses pillows and blankets.We deposited our bags and went back to the exhibition to pack our things , take some pictures and take leave of our Yemeni fellow exhibitors. As I mentioned , it was a sad goodbye!

We went to the beach as I mentioned earlier . There was a stadium by the beach and Muneer told us parades were held there.

This is Muneer's lady boss in her office

Muneer was very obliging , acting as a tourist guide as well as driver. We learned he worked as a taxi driver part time and his other job was with the government. What is more surprising, he has a woman boss. The fully veiled lady had a Phd in Pharmacology from a University in Hungary . She was in charge of Standards for Pharmaceuticals and Medical Appliances in Mukalla. We visited her at her Office and received a warm welcome .

I notice that even though it seemed as though the women in Mukalla were segregated and veiled , it did not stop them from getting an education and working full time jobs as well as going about their business in the streets and in the shops .The waitress at the restaurant we had our lunch at was a fully veiled woman . We also saw fully veiled school girls waiting for their school bus to go home.

School girls across the road from the restaurant on the first floor , the ship like building is another restaurant

Muneer did not want to have lunch with us even though we offered . He said his wife had prepared lunch for him and she would wait for him and not have lunch until he has it with her.I looked at Mas who looked back at me.Such chivalry on his part, such devotion on his wife's part .

lunch in an alcoved space Muneer took this picture

Where did we lose such consideration in our modern high paced life where the husband went one way and the wife the other way , each busy in their pursuit of ...WHAT?.....

After taking us to lunch as I mentioned above , we went back to the apartment to wait for Mohamed who had gone back to Wadi Doan , to get his car. He told us it was two hours by car.He arrived back in the late afternoon and we went to the Yemenia Airways office to confirm our air tickets. I heard Mohamed talk to Dato ..........who was one of the organisers for the Malaysian delegates. He put the phone on speaker and I could hear the frustration in her voice

" Mohamad, our names are not on the airlines list . We are being treated badly. Please tell your uncle to DO SOMETHING."

Apparently Mohamed managed to get people moving for he got another phone call the next night , a very happy voice thanking him and telling him that they got a flight back to Malaysia and had decided to skip going to Dubai. So instead of shopping in Dubai , they had gone shopping in Sanaa.

We stopped by some shops in the old part of town and Syifa bought a jubah for her mum and Mas persuaded me to buy one for myself .We argued over which jubah looked nice . Apparently my taste in jubah differs from Mas and both of us must have confused poor Syifa by giving her our opinion on which jubah to choose for her mum.

I was surprised to find hot cakes and hot sweet tea waiting for us in the morning after I had bathed and changed. The neighbours downstairs had taken it upon themselves to give us breakfast and they did so for the two days we were there. They even wanted to cook lunch but we were already going to the airport the second morning we were there. I though Mohamed had asked them to do so but apparently it was spontaneous and typical of Yemeni-Mukalla hospitality

That morning Mohamed had to go to the bank.

When Mohamed went to the bank , I went to a nearby shop and bought two lovely gowns for my grand daughters. Mas and Syifa went to other shops and soon Mohamed called us all back to the car .

We then went to the fish market . It was near the sea and there were a lot of small fishing boats. The fish were huge , mostly tuna and shark . All of the fish were newly caught from the sea!

Mohamed brought a kilo of fish to cook . He also bought rice vegetables and spices while we wandered around taking photos.

Mohamed's cooking and serving

Back home, he cooked us lunch.For someone who seemed to have deep pockets Mohamed was humble and unassuming. He had slept on the floor , wore traditional Yemeni clothes, did not have any airs . When I asked whether I should cut the vegetables he had simply said no and had taken the vegetables from me and I next found them scattered around the tray of rice heaped with fried tuna. I must admit he is a good cook, the Yemeni rice he made was delicious and I really enjoyed eating a meal Yemeni style. I note it saves time and washing up. When were are done,we just had to scoop up the waste food in the tablecloth and throw it away. Only one item to wash and that is the tray!

We were to go to Wadi Doan after lunch. I had asked to go since I was really longing to see a Yemeni village in Hadramaut.

It was then that disaster struck. I could not find my passport. It was in my sling bag which was with me all the time. I searched for it everywhere and everyone joined in the search.In the end I had to admit I must have dropped it somewhere .

When did I last know that I had it? I had it in the car that morning which meant I could rule out losing it the night before . So the only places we had been to were the Bank , the shops and the market plus the grocery store on the way back to the house.

Mohamed called up three people , one to go search in the shops near the bank, another in the marketplace and a third one around the grocery shop near the house.

I was devastated , imagining the worst. I think losing a passport is an international traveller's worse nightmare. I am no greenhorn . I am a seasoned globe trotter who has been travelling to unknown places sometimes all alone. I am also very careful with money and passport when I travel so how could this have happened? I was imagining being stuck for weeks in Mukalla while the Malaysian consulate issued me with a temporary travel document . From my previous experience, Malaysians working in Arab countries became just as laid back and inefficient .

My terror lasted a full 10 minutes. Muneer had been sent to the shops around the bank and he had found my passport in the shop where I bought the gowns . The shop owner was waiting for me to come back to get my passport. In my eagerness to buy the gowns I had been searching to see if I had any spare riyals and had taken out my passport . Soon after Mohamed had called and in my haste I had left my passport. The shop owner did not want to give the passport to Muneer, he waited for me to personally come to get it. He refused money that I tried to give him as a reward for his honesty and good faith. This is another discovery I made about the people here. The good ones were very good and had honor in spite of the poverty that I spoke of earlier.

When my passport was found , I discovered that Mohamed could nag. He scolded me no end and had said that when I said I had lost my passport , his heart had gone out of his chest and back!I gladly accepted the scolding , no doubt I deserved it . Upon reflection , I had told him that it was because of him that I lost my passport. His presence had made me feel very safe and relaxed , and I was off guard and no longer as alert as I usually am when I travel alone.The passport incident showed to me how efficient and organised this 23 year old young man was. No doubt he would be an excellent hotelier. That was what he was studying in KDU in Penang.

We still made the trip to Wadi Doan and I am really glad we managed to do so. It is an experience of a lifetime and the thought of this beautiful mountain valley tugs at my heart.

Next Wadi Doan , original home of Osama ben Laden , fairytale Resort Hayd Al Jazeel , Bugshan Castle and more ......to be continued

Click on photo to see a video of Old Mukalla Town

Yemen Mukalla 4

We had come to Mukalla for the International Islamic Fair that experienced a last minute unexpected change in location. The change in location cost me and my fellow travellers an extra Rm 3000 in airfare but that was not all that happened. It also meant all our preparations for the fair were wrong. We had prepared for a Dubai market but found ourselves instead in Mukalla . By Yemeni standards it was a large town, the main industry here was fishing. The average salary here was between US$100-200. While the people loved to see the things we brought, they simply could not afford our prices.

These girls were from the university, Faiza was very talkative and her English was superb!

We did manage to do some of the thins we set out to do that is to make known our NGO to the local people and to make known the work we do. I think we will never really know the impact of what we had done for perhaps amongst the people we made contact with , there may be some who were inspired by our presence and what we represented and perhaps it would spur them to do action to do something similar in their own country.
More bad news hit us just then. The freight company had experienced a lot of difficulty bringing the goods and exhibition materials to the fair and could not bring anything back. Just throw it all away he had said to me.The problem was the sudden change in location. There is a 12 hour drive to Mukalla from the International airport of Sanaa. It is a long and hazardous journey and lorry companies charged more than the freight company had anticipated. He had suffered a loss and thus refused to offer freight back.

Mas packing the T shirts that were seemingly overpriced!

Many of the souveniors we brought were not ours to throw away or give away so we had to bring them back with us, at least as far as Sanaa where we could leave them with a friend to sell for us. We now had another dilemma on our hands , another set of troubles. How do we bring back the buntings, the catalogue stands, the t shirts and other things we had brought for the fair home?

Financially, the trip was a disaster.

What I did to keep my spirits up was to change the perspective of my journey. I focused on the educational aspect of being in Yemen and kept in my mind that the experiences I was having were nothing that money could buy.

The fair for us lasted two days. We missed the morning of the first day because of being held at the airport over the lost box and we stayed till the morning of the third day when all the other Malaysians had left Mukalla. This was because I had booked the tickets myself and not relied on the group travel agent .It turns out that this move saved the three of us from a long bus journey which started for them at 3 am, only to find their names were not on the flight to Dubai from Sanaa.
When all the cares of the Trade fair lifted from our shoulders in the afternoon of our third day in Mukalla, I felt as if a load was off my back . Our ordeals were not yet over , for we had to face trying to bring back more that the allocated luggage and in the long run it may be cheaper to abandon our goods rather than pay for excess baggage, only the goods were not ours to abandon .
It was the young man from Wadi Doan that had made the rest of our stay a wonderful adventure never to be forgotten.

Fiona had asked Mohammad to help us with the lost box. I was reluctant to surrender the report , thinking it was my only link to the lost box and not fully trusting a stranger to arrange for the box to be returned. My fears were totally unfounded for Mohamed is the most reliable person I had met in a long time.On the first night that we arrived in Mukalla, totally exhausted from the day' s adventures I had gone to bed early only to be awoken by the room phone. It was Mohammad telling me the box was on its way to our room and he will arrange for it to be sent to the Exhibition Hall next morning!Mas could not understand my delight when I gleefully pointed to the box the next morning .She did not know my doubts and she did not fuly realise the miracle of having a person who could be relied upon under the circumstances we were in.

Mohammad is from Wadi Doan. On the third day we would be on our own. I am amazed that the three of us were not very worried about being the only Malaysians in Mukalla at that point in time. Having been around the Yemenis for the past few days , we had become familiar with the friendliness and laid back simplicity of their ways. I think we had absorbed some of the laid backness so that our moments of anxiety were very much muted and cushioned and a sense of peace had prevailed throughout our travails here.

When we asked Mohammad to find us another hotel , he had hesitated only for an instance before offering us his apartment which was newly built. In Yemen as in Egypt , people build their houses floor by floor. Mohammad had a house here in Mukalla and it was now 3 stories and the third story was just completed. We were quite happy to accept his offer having by then full trust in him .

He had arranged for us to be taken from the hotel by a taxi driver called Muneer who proved to be another Yemeni gem. Handsome gentle helpful and polite as well as speaking a reasonable amount of English , we found Muneer to be very obliging and he brought us to the beach , to lunch and to Mohammad's apartment .

At the beach , I had removed my shoes and stepped onto the pebbly part barefoot ( yes it was quite painful but I wanted to) before my feet felt the warm sand . A sense of exhilaration filled my heart . Leaving the exhibition , Mas had remarked she had felt a bit sad , as if reluctant to leave the Yemeni people who were still there since there was one more day of exhibition left. We had made friends with many of them and their warmth kindness and hospitality had touched our very souls. Now, at the beach a peace and joy seemed to emanate from the clear waters that were teasing at my feet as I carefully ventured to the water's edge only to find the waves swishing onto the legs of my trousers. I had let out a scream , was it out of relief, or delight? I do not really know nor is it important. The wind against my face, the gentle afternoon sun, the Sapphire blue of the Arab sea in the distance and the sound of seagulls painted a perfect picture of the beauty of the Mukalla coast and filled my soul to its depth with the fresh beauty of God's earth . I was moved to tears.

What is it about this place I wondered , that made me feel calm in spite of the uncertainty of our situation ? I think wealth should not be measured in terms of money , perhaps there is something more important, a wealth of the spirit , a generosity which was not limited by vested interests. We would be experiencing more of the Yemeni hospitality in the next days .

Next , Muneer's lady boss, A Yemeni restaurant, Wadi Doan and more

to be continued.....

Yemen Mukalla 3

The box with the buntings was missing. There seemed to be no one around to ask! The other passengers had left and we were the only ones waiting in the arrival hall.

A uniformed officer asked us what was wrong and I told him in my broken Arabic .

He asked us to wait and I saw him send two porters hack to the airplane

waiting for our missing box at Mukalla airport

They came back almost an hour later without the box.

I had some experience with lost baggage since Abang Long lost a bag when we landed in Dubai .

Dubai airport is a sharp contrast to Mukalla. In Dubai the workers and officers were super efficient and everybody knew their roles . There were even employees moving around with a T Shirt on which was written Ask Me! When we reported to a porter a bag was missing they immediately asked for the baggage tickets , noted the total weight and weighed the rest of the baggage. They noted the serial number of each bag to find out which bag was missing . The bag was returned to Abang Long the next night.

So now I told the officer I wanted to make a report on the missing bag and we checked the serial numbers on the bags that were there to find out the serial number of the missing box.

By then somebody who seemed to know what to do arrived on the scene.

His name was Lotfi.

I told him we were very late since we were supposed to be at the exhibition hall of the University of Hadhramaut.

Upon this explanation he seemed to brighten up and mentioned that some people from the University had come earlier on to the airport and he had some specific instructions for arrivals from Malaysia.

He wrote a report , asked me to identify the shape and color of the box and gave me a report which I placed in my sling bag after giving it a cursory glance.

We were all set to go and went looking for a taxi when Lotfi , came to us to tell us to wait. He said the officials from the University are sending us a car to take us to the University .

driving to Mukalla from the airport

I was getting a bit suspicious and did not think that anybody would send a car to get fetch us. Maybe they were thinking we were some other people.

I became even more apprehensive when the car arrived complete with an important looking official who greeted us . I am not a person who notices car makes but the car was a beige MPV . A man took our bags from us and soon we were off .

The important looking man called up Hotel Holiday Inn , asked for our passports and said something about a room booking.

He then said that we should check in first before going to the University.

Mas insisted that we go to the University first.

I took out the report that Lotfi made and the words VIP jumped out at me.

"Mas, Syifa , I think they think we are some kind of VIP s and I am sure we are not!"

I am pretty sure Mas and Syifa did not understand that I was beginning to suspect a case of mistaken identity.

There were two groups of Malaysians in Mukalla at that time. One group was part of Tun Dr Mahathir's entourage and another was from the International Islamic Fair and we belonged to the latter .

When we got to the exhibition hall, everybody was moving out because in Mukalla everything moves to a standstill between 1 pm to 4 pm , it was siesta time!

Hadhramaut University Exhibition Hall

It seems that the Yemeni Prime Minister had invited all the Malaysians from both groups to a banquet at Holiday Inn.

We therefore found ourselves in Holiday Inn and Mas checked at the counter to see if we were booked there because the travel agent did mention Holiday Inn as one of the possible hotels .

Without asking any further the reception clerk asked for our passports, made photocopies and somebody came over and signed for us.

When we were shown to the room , my heart began to sink. This could not be right , The room was far too luxurious and way beyond our pockets.

Holiday Inn Mukalla the hotel room that was not ours!

We placed our bags and went for the sumptuous feast . Our table was in front of the table with the Yemeni dignitaries and we saw the Prime Minister taking his lunch. He ate with his hands, did not appear to stand out from amongst his other ministers and I was awed to see how humble he was.

Banquet lunch courtesy of the Yemeni Government

I dare not weigh myself after coming back from Yemen. I like Arab food , it always reminds me of my carefree student days and the two banquet lunches provided me with far too much calories for my own good! On top of which Yemenis seem to have the typical Arab custom of feeding their guests beyond dietary requirements!

By this time the growing suspicion of mistaken identity was growing stronger. We caught up with Fiona Abdullah the travel agent and discovered our group was booked at another hotel , the Arab Sea hotel and the group in Holiday Inn was from the Tun Dr Mahathir entourage.

Who was going to pay for our room? Fiona talked to Mohamed and that was the first time we set eyes on this young Yemeni man who seemed to know a few words of Malay.

"Tiada Masalaaaah", he had said . A favourite phrase he had. He asked Mas to wait until he confirmed a room before checking out but I insisted on leaving immediately , knowing full well a night's stay at this 5 star hotel would break my budget!

At the counter I talked to the man who signed for us and told him I think there had been some mistake and we were not supposed to stay at Holiday Inn. He was gracious and allowed us to leave apologising and saying that they did not know the identity of the people who were supposed to check in because nobody had given them any names!

Mohamed came to talk to us later to confirm he had booked a room for the three of us at Arab Sea hotel and I breathed a sigh of relief!

Next:

The IIF, Yemeni people, Women Bosses, Mohamed, Wadi Doan, lost passport and more....

Yemen Mukalla 2

At the counter in the lobby of Funduk Mattar

" Salam ! Oda ashan talatah ila bukra subh, be kam ?"

Translation: A room for three people until tomorrow morning, how much ?

The reception clerk said $USD 195!

The mind boggles! Here in Aden , of which we had thus far seen grubby money , men in Yemeni cloth( like pelikat) and shirts , battered cars , bare square stone buildings looking rather antique , actually has hotel rooms that cost like they were in New York!

A bit of play acting is called for under this situation! With the sternest face I had , I questioned the price and discovered that he quoted a price for a suite.
After a lot of arguments back and forth he finally quoted $USD 50.

I still did not quite believe that this shabby hotel cost that much per night !
I asked to see printed rates , which he did not have .
He finally understood what I wanted and pointed to the monitor .
Syifa knew how to read Arabic , so she went behind the counter and read out the available rooms and the rates for each room.
We finally settled for a room with two single beds and an extra mattress for $US 47.
It was still rather steep but we did not have a choice and besides, that was the rate Syifa read out on the monitor screen!

$US47 /day and the bare essentials

The room was reasonably clean and free from dust . My nose is a superb dust detector ,(when dust is present I sneeze nonstop) so I can vouch for that! It was about 9 pm and we were still jet lagged and we planned to sleep early .

Grocery Store across the road from the Airport Hotel in Aden

I went down with Syifa to a grocery store across the road to buy drinks and on the way out , a Yemeni youth asked if we were from Malaysia. He spoke good English and we found out he was studying in Sedaya College in KL !

I adjusted my Sony Ericson P9901 to show Yemeni time and made sure I set the alarm to activate for the Fajr prayers.

One of the blessings of this journey was my ability to fall deeply and soundly asleep at all the strange places we had to sleep in.

In no time at all, Mas was waking me up . She said it is Fajr now , get up and pray! I looked at my mobile phone and it indicated it was only 4.30 am local time . I sleepily told her it is too early but she insisted it was Fajr because she heard the Azan. I reluctantly got up made ablutions and prayed.

15 minutes after praying I heard the Azan and said to Mas , look here , that is the Azan and now is Fajr! So I prayed again. 15 minutes after this , I heard another Azan and this time I was totally confused! I can understand 2 Azans, one to wake people up and another at the onset of Fajr but 3 Azans? I listened carefully and concluded the third Azan was the iqamah .

Mas was insisting that her watch showed it was already 6 am and I insisted it was 5 am .We found out later that there was an hour time difference between Dubai and Aden and Mas had set her watch to Dubai time while I only adjusted my handphone in Aden.

Our breakfast that morning consisted of biscuits and milk that we had bought at the grocery. I drank my Muz Bi Laban which Syifa commented tasted like liquid Banana Cake . I guess it was nostalgia for my student days which made me buy the drink. I used to take fresh Banana Milk Shake at the juice shop in Egypt during my student years.

The journey back to the Airport which started the next morning was uneventful except that it seems I paid only $25 instead of $ 40 , thinking the $5 was a 20 dollar note , US money being of the same color for all denominations! I paid the rest in Yemeni Riyal. I therefore settled the rest of the bill, to the relief of the reception clerk .

The taxi we got this time was a shining new taxi and for that we had to pay Yemeni Riyal 1000 ...for the two minute ride to the airport! This is nearly RM 20!

The one hour plane ride was over in no time and we found ourselves in Mukalla airport , needless to say it was even smaller than the one in Aden.

The bags were out in no time and I was relieved to see my apple green bag . I had a nagging feeling that bags were easily lost by the very lax way baggage was handled. Afterall bags that should have been sent to Mukallah direct were taken out at Aden!

And then it happened.....the conveyor belt had stopped , and the box we were carrying with the buntings was missing!

We had a problem with this box earlier in Aden. Some people , maybe the customs people had torn it open to inspect the contents at which I gave them a hard glare and the same officer who had helped us earlier had said to leave us alone. They had then taped it up with a big cellophane tape that had the words, Resealed and an airport code SAH. Just maybe that made the box go elsewhere for the plane that brought us to Mukalla was going somewhere else after dropping some passengers at Riyan Mukallah airport .


Next : The wait for the bags, VIP treatment , Holiday Inn Mukallah, Banquet fit for Kings and more !

Yemen Mukalla 1

Mukalla Yemen

Where do I begin?

The lyrics of the song Love Story that I knew from long ago did not sound out of place as we were driven around Mukalla by Mohamed in his Toyota Hilux. The pleasant young man who seemed to be everywhere and who was indispensable to the Malaysians in Mukalla did not fail to catch my attention when we arrived at Holiday Inn Mukalla to have lunch as guests of the Prime Minister of Yemen .

The turn of events that made us end up with Mohamed in Mukalla would sound like a drama on TV.

It began when we boarded a plane to Aden from Dubai .

I was apprehensive as I boarded the plane to Aden from Dubai. I looked at Syifa Hana , the 15 year old daughter of my friend Dr Harlina. She looked excited with eyes shining and was totally oblivious of the anxiety I was experiencing. She did not know the Arab world and Dubai hardly counts ! I said to her, " You are not worried are you?"
I thought to myself , that is just as well that Mas and Syifa did not know what troubles they could be in for . Let me be the one who is ready for it and ready to deal with it , having studied in Egypt for seven years, some 30 years ago .

As we touched down in Aden , it felt to me like we had gone back in time . I was seeing Cairo or maybe Tanta 30 years ago. The airport was simple and bare , there were men and women , most of them in traditional clothes . The women in full burka .

There was some confusion as we went through immigration. The immigration officer told us to apply for a visa at another counter and a few seconds later another officer came and asked for our nationality. The minute he knew we were Malaysians he communicated to the immigration officer that we did not need a visa! If only I could give you a picture of the exchange . It was typically Arab , loud voices , a lot of gesticulations and we were done! He asked us for an address in Aden and with my broken Arabic I told him we were in transit and were to catch a flight to Mukalla in the morning and would be staying in a hotel." Funduk Mattar " he suggested. I brightened up immediately and agreed with his suggestion, " Aiywah quais, Funduk Mattar."
He had suggested we stay at the airport hotel and that was great news for us , that there was actually an airport hotel!

The first thing I saw as we left immigration and walked out of the arrival hall were our bags! We had asked that the bags be sent to Mukalla and yet there they were arranged higgledy piggledy by the side of the small baggage area.

I had to think fast . We did not have any place to stay overnight and staying at the bare airport with all the strange men around was out of the question.

I searched for currency exchange counter and found the only one there . I placed $USD 60 on the counter only to have 40 returned and was given Yemeni money to the equivalent of $USD20. I looked at the money incredulously. I have never seen such grubby worn out money since 30 years ago when I was studying in Egypt!

Armed with about 3900 Yemeni riyals , we asked for directions to the Funduk Mattar. It was within visual range and within walking distance , if only we did not have heavy luggage which included buntings for the Trade fair in Mukalla!

In the end we had to take a taxi for the two minute ride and were charged a whopping 600 riyals !Taxi with our bags loaded !

There was another little drama Arab style as I chided the taxi driver for overcharging because the porter at the hotel said it should have been only 200 riyals!
I saw his face turn red as he got ready to fight for his money.
I was not about to prolong the drama and I said in my most regal broken Arabic.
I keep my promise and we had a deal and I had agreed to pay 600 and I am paying it even though you have done us an injustice.
The man broke out in a smile and soon our bags were in the lobby of the hotel.

Funduk Mattar ( Airport Hotel Aden)

Another Arab drama was about to ensue....

to be continued.

Hefty removal for 750-year-old boab tree

This is not the 750 year old tree in King's Park..I do not have a picture of it now since my memory stick has become unreadable .

As we were driving along in Liz's rented car in King's Park , Perth Western Australia, Michelle who was driving started telling us about the Boab tree.

What struck me about the tree is its energy. Even as I write I can feel the majesty and peace of this tree, now in its new home in Perth.

When we stopped in front of the tree that night , it was cold and windy and with the lights of Perth shining like jewels from the look out point a few meters from the tree. The wind was blowing strongly and for once we felt chilly in the very mild end of winter Perth climate.

We went back in the daytime, this time with Kak Noorli , a longtime resident of Perth, formerly Ipoh mari...I wanted to upload some photos , but it is not meant to be. My memory stick has gone bust!

So what was I doing in Perth? Level 3 EFT workshop with Peter Graham. Liz and Kak Noorly were fellow participants. Liz stays in Broome and Kak Noorli is a psychiatric nurse in Perth.
Liz paid more in airfare to get to Perth than I did! Amazing isn't it? I was surprised myself when I booked the flight with Tiger air. The only drawback was having to go into Singapore. The checkpoints were a bit of a hassle , especially getting back , there was a long queue at 4 am ...unbelievable!

News article on the tree:

Hefty removal for 750-year-old boab tree
14th July 2008, 19:30 WST

The bottle-shaped boab tree is being transplanted from Warum, in the Kimberley region, to Perth's Kings Park

The removal of a 750-year-old boab tree from the WA Kimberley for its 3000km journey to Perth has been a more challenging process than expected.

In what is believed to be a world first, the giant boab tree left Warmun in the Kimberly yesterday and its hefty weight required a larger truck to safely transport it to its new home, Kings Park, by Saturday.

Weighing in at 36 tonnes – 22 more tonnes than first thought – the tree stretches 14m high and 8m wide, and it will be planted in Kings Park’s Botanic Garden and feature in the Kings Park Festival in September.

The tree’s root system was also more complicated and extensive than expected.

Since yesterday the tree has travelled along the Great Northern Highway and will pass through Fitzroy, Port Hedland, Cue and Muchea.

While the cost of moving such a massive tree would usually cost about $120,000, local companies including Main Roads and BGC Contracting donated their resources and time at no cost for the project.

After the boab tree has settled in its new home, Kings Park staff will collect its seeds and grow about 200 boabs to return to the Kimberley.

Project co-ordinator Patrick Courtney said when Kings Park found out the tree needed to be relocated because of works on Great Northern Highway, they welcomed the chance to secure it.

“It’s a real coup for Kings Park to have such a magnificent tree, particularly with its strong cultural and historical value,” he said.

“Mature trees rarely become available, so this will greatly enhance the 3000 native species already on show for the Australian public."

PERTH
LISA CALAUTTI