Weddings and the Qat

Usually I have classes here at 8:30 am and get up at 7 am to do my homework. But today my class was moved to the afternoon, so last night I went to bed with the beautiful prospect of being able to sleep in for the first time in over a week. I really needed some sleep, but it was not to be. At 8 am this morning I was awoken by loud and unfamiliar music from the street parallel to mine. I closed my windows and curtains and dug out the ear plugs I was given on the plane - but not much use, the Islamic chants (accompanied by Lute) were not only very loud, but also terribly persistant. I tossed and turned and finally got up to spend the rest of my free morning in the one room of the house furthest away from the music, reading and pretending not to be annoyed by the un-asked-for, yet continueing background music. What was for me merely a nuisance on my lazy Sunday morning, was the beginning of a very important day for two families from the neighbourhood...

...over the last week hardly an hour would pass without a train of cars driving past on the main street honking their horns like crazy (Yemeni drivers already make much more frequent use of the button in the middle of the steering wheel than their western European collegues, but this is really something else). Amongst them is always one car, usually a brand new one, preferably of a famous German make, which is intricately decorated with ribbons, bows and fake flowers, stuck to the car with adhesive tape...

...when one drives around Sana'a at night these days, one often notices a whole section of a street lit up by hundreds of bright, hired light bulbs, hung across the street. Underneath, dozens of men are gathered, standing, dancing, congratulating each other, listening to the loud music, but mostly just standing. Among them is one who wears elaborately decorated clothes made of royal blue and golden silks and a purple red turban and carries a thin blade in a shining golden sheath.

--- The wedding season is in full swing!

And there is one simple and good reason for why there is a special season in which people prefer to conclude their marriages than in others: the qat is cheap now. It's rain season, so it grows plentiful all over the country and the prices have gone down. Now that explains the loud music, but you might think: so what the hell is qat?


Qat (Catha edulis Forskål) is a bush that was introduced to the Yemen a few centuries before the beginning of Islam (i.e. a few centuries after Christ) from Ethiopia, where it still grows today, albeit not in such ample quantities as in the Yemen, where it has become the single most important crop in the national agricultural product. The bush can be up to 4 meters high and is cultivated all over the Yemen, especially in the North, in terrassed fields in the mostly mountainous areas. Its leaves and little branches, cut when still light green and young, form the essence of Yemeni society. At least 4 out of 5 men chew it regularly and maybe 2 out of 5 women.
The qat leaves contain small quantities of Amphetamines, so the rumour goes, and qat is thus classed as a mild drug and made illegal in many countries. You pick the soft and green leaves off the little branches, transfer them to your mouth, chew them a little bit and then push the chewed up leave into your cheek, which forms a little pouch gradually increasing in size, as more and more leaves are stored in the cheek. Some people have HUGE cheeks, as if they had some major toothache or so.
Whether it scientifically IS a drug or not is beyond my experience, but what I can say from my experience is that it certainly doesn't have any mind-expanding or conciousness-warping effects, at least not when you only try it a few times. However, many students told me that they use it when they need to work a lot, preparing for exams for example and most Yemenis claim that it keeps them awake and makes them strong and concentrated. So it appears to have some effect on tiredness and concentration, but its main function lies in something different: it is a 'social adhesive'. It keeps Yemeni society together, it is the basis for any social interaction. If you want to meet someone, be it for business, family or personal reasons, you meet, chew and talk. All problems are sorted out over a good bag of qat.



Here is a qat vendor on a little shabby qat market in Sana'a. The plant's branches are treated with much respect and loving care. They are often wrapped in scarves, cloth or bags to keep them fresh. Every area of Sana'a has a little qat market somewhere - you never need to walk more than 10 minutes. This 'sooq al-qat' lies just off Haddah street and was one of my favourite places to come and take pictures of people. There is thousands of empty little plastic bags that once contained qat littering the floor. Random single car seats stand around between the rubbish on the floor and serve as reclining chairs for those chewing the qat. Everyone has big cheeks here and there's always dozens of children around that are so eager to get their photo taken. It's amazing how accustomed they already are to digital cameras. They are utterly disappointed if you fail to produce a screen on the back of your camera that can present the picture seconds after it was taken.
The photo further up shows a group of them in front of a little stall that sells boiled potatoes, which you simply dip in a combination of spices - a delicious snack - the Yemeni equivalent of a chip shop, I guess.

There is a real beauty about fresh qat, especially if you buy it in the village and it just came off the trees. The photo at the very top shows a bag containing the best and probably most expensive qat I've had in the Yemen. The leaves are light green and perfectly shaped, flat and have a slight shine on the upper surface, which, together with the perfectedness of their shape almost gives them the appearance of being well-modelled plastic leaves. Yet that description doesn't do them justice - really, the leaves have something virginal about them, untouched and pure.