Looking out for us
The other day, one of my roomies, Yayah, was in a bit of a funk. She’d either lost her wallet somewhere between heading back on a dabab from Lulu’s and stopping by one of the outdoor fruit and veggie stands near AMIDEAST or one of the refugees hanging around the area (more on them later) had taken it from her open bag. Her wallet contained money, her AMIDEAST ID, her ATM cards, and other important documents no one wants to lose, especially when in a foreign country. Yayah tried to remain optimistic but… The next day, the two of us were walking by the AMIDEAST reception area when the security guard appeared with Yayah’s wallet. A dabab driver had returned it with everything, including all the cash, intact but didn't stay long enough to collect any reward. There were shouts of joy and hugs at the front desk from the entire reception staff, Yayah, and me in appreciation of the driver’s honesty.
I too have experienced Yemeni courtesy. Whenever I'm about to hop on a dabab, men quickly move to another seat to let me sit by myself or next to another woman. Yemeni women are just as helpful. There have been times when I’ve climbed on the bus and a woman flips open the spare seat for me to sit next to her. And on two rides, the driver didn’t hear my verbal request to stop. No problem. The woman sitting next to me loudly thumped on the interior of the bus to make sure the driver knew to pull over and drop me off. And yes, I’ve had my own “dabab moment” when I nearly fell out of the thing when it started moving. (The driver had stopped but didn’t know I was getting off.) A couple of men grabbed me in the knick of time and shouted for the driver to stop. Whew. Close call, eh? But these courtesies also extend to other services. Yesterday I was in line to change money at the local exchange office and three young guys came in and quickly moved in line ahead of me as if I didn’t exist. I glared at them and muttered under my breath, “Oh no, you didn’t just cut in line.” When they moved forward to be served, the money changer curtly told them to step aside and then he reached out to take my dollars. I resisted the urge to strut out the door as I was leaving. Beware... the power of the abaya...
Climb to the top of the boulder that blocks your way and see the view from a different perspective.
1 comments:
I'm sure most americans would be surprised to know some of the most honest and courteous treatment I was ever privileged to have occurred in Arab countries. Once I lost my wallet too, but in Amman, Jordan. Inside was my passport, school ID, money, a credit card, and some important phone numbers. I discovered its absence as I was attempting to buy an olive wood carved camel with 2 scud missiles strapped to either side with the face of Saddam Hussein cheekily painted on each. The shop owner realized my plight and paid a taxi to take me back to my hotel. Once there, the clerk told me the police had called. Someone had found my wallet and it was being held at the station. When I arrived at the police station, they told me that I had apparently dropped it as I got out a taxi and a passerby had found it and turned it in. The police chief insisted on my having tea and asked me questions to verify the contents of the wallet. He was readily and quickly satisfied that it was indeed mine to claim, but seemed eager to chat. A few minutes later a few other officers came in and just after, a boy bearing a steaming mound of kabobs and various salads. The officers insisted I eat lunch with them. The waller was returned to me without one single cent missing, my passport and all other items intact. The police gave me an "official" ride back to my hotel. The next day I returned to the shop and tried to pay back the shopkeeper for the previous day's taxi fare, but he would have none of it. By way of appreciation, I bought not only the scud carrying camel but a nifty watch with Saddam's portrait smiling out the center. J
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