wadi hadramawt
Wadi Hadramawt is the largest wadi (dry riverbed, canyon) in the Arabian Peninsula, and has been an inhabited trading route from Biblical times. Contrary to more familiar riverbeds, Wadi Hadramawt doesn't carry the water it collects to the ocean, but widens out into Ramlat as Sabatayn, a giant ocean of sand connected to Rub' al Khali.
For the second chapter of our bike trip, we decide to follow the course of Wadi Hadramawt as it widens towards the west, but then slip into a side wadi, spectacular Wadi Doan, and follow it upstream, until we climb out of the sunken wadi worlds in search of the ocean.
Above, melting mud palaces and one happy goat in Tarim, starting point of our Hadramawt bike tour.
We heard Tarim is an important religious centre - more visible however are the heavily decorated mud palaces built on colonial wealth. Over the past two centuries, the Hadramawt has sent out a reputable diaspora of successful business families all over Southeast Asia. Most expatriate Hadramis kept in close contact with their native land, sending their sons home to study and marry. The Al-Qaf family for example made its fortune in Singapore but has dotted hometown Tarim with palaces. The Sultan of Brunei is part-Hadrami, and a lot of the (more successful) Yemeni immigrants in Saudi Arabia too - among them the father of Osama bin Laden, a Doani contractor.
Lots of info and visuals about Tarim and its colonial past on Columbia University's Tarim Documentation Project.
Hadramis are relentless builders.
At times it feels like building fever is the only feature the Hadramis share with their nephews in Yemen's mountains, worlds away to the west. The material of choice here is mud though, with Shibam as the craft's masterpiece.
The glimpse of Hadramawt before nightfall showed that, even if in some ways it is sleepy and insular, one activity continues with irrepressible vitality: building. Everywhere, there are unfinished top floors and herringbone stacks of mud bricks. Many of the older houses and turret-cornered little forts are crumbling. But new buildings rise all around. It is a cycle of dissolution and rebirth. ... There are no shortcuts in Hadrami mud building: the more time that is put into its construction, the longer a house will last. (tMS)
Next stop is Seyyun, bustling center of the wadi. In Seyyun's most famous mud palace, cladded with a blinding white coat, we see an exhibit of pictures taken by Freya Stark in the 1930s. Next to a black and white picture of the dusty square of Seyyun filled with camels, there's a window, framing a 2006 update of the same square, paved this time, and the camels replaced with cars.
In the library of the museum, we find two books on display (below) - local favorites Bill Clinton and Ali Abdullah Saleh rubbing shoulders...
Further east on the road to Shibam, we stop for a luxurious lunch and siesta at Al Hawta Palace Hotel, the only hotel in the world made entirely out of mud. Usually tour groups from Japan and Europe stay here, but at lunch time the ample staff has spare time to show us around. From the roof of the hotel, we can see the hazy outline of the Manhattan of the Desert shimmer in the distance (above right).
Our passage through Shibam is a story of its own.
Biking in Wadi Hadramawt in four images. Above, indulging in blissful evening rides, heading west, well after midday heat and traffic. Gently sliding on smooth surface through backlit canyon scenery... Below, Candi in a heated discussion with a bunch of Hadrami shepherdesses on the way out of Shibam. Sporting their funky chapeaus, the shepherdesses are the outlaws of the rigid wadi world, cowgirls roaming around with flocks of sheep and goats, shamelessly shouting "I love you" (in English!) to unassuming travelers.
A girl on a bike in Yemen is sure to turn heads (above). There's only one paved road in the canyon, serving as the backbone to the continunous string of settlements, businesses and farmlands, so you'll hardly ever bike alone in Wadi Hadramawt. Below, an exception to the rule - still life with Candida, papaya groves, and canyon walls.
For me, the Hadrami interior remains, like the insides of its houses – aloof and enigmatic. I feel as though I had been wandering around a painting by de Chirico: a place drenched with light but empty of people. ... The Wadi walls are confining, more so than Yemen’s western mountainsides. I wondered if all Hadramis were closet claustrophobes, and if this was what made them travel. (tMS)
For the second chapter of our bike trip, we decide to follow the course of Wadi Hadramawt as it widens towards the west, but then slip into a side wadi, spectacular Wadi Doan, and follow it upstream, until we climb out of the sunken wadi worlds in search of the ocean.
Above, melting mud palaces and one happy goat in Tarim, starting point of our Hadramawt bike tour.
We heard Tarim is an important religious centre - more visible however are the heavily decorated mud palaces built on colonial wealth. Over the past two centuries, the Hadramawt has sent out a reputable diaspora of successful business families all over Southeast Asia. Most expatriate Hadramis kept in close contact with their native land, sending their sons home to study and marry. The Al-Qaf family for example made its fortune in Singapore but has dotted hometown Tarim with palaces. The Sultan of Brunei is part-Hadrami, and a lot of the (more successful) Yemeni immigrants in Saudi Arabia too - among them the father of Osama bin Laden, a Doani contractor.
Lots of info and visuals about Tarim and its colonial past on Columbia University's Tarim Documentation Project.
Hadramis are relentless builders.
At times it feels like building fever is the only feature the Hadramis share with their nephews in Yemen's mountains, worlds away to the west. The material of choice here is mud though, with Shibam as the craft's masterpiece.
The glimpse of Hadramawt before nightfall showed that, even if in some ways it is sleepy and insular, one activity continues with irrepressible vitality: building. Everywhere, there are unfinished top floors and herringbone stacks of mud bricks. Many of the older houses and turret-cornered little forts are crumbling. But new buildings rise all around. It is a cycle of dissolution and rebirth. ... There are no shortcuts in Hadrami mud building: the more time that is put into its construction, the longer a house will last. (tMS)
Next stop is Seyyun, bustling center of the wadi. In Seyyun's most famous mud palace, cladded with a blinding white coat, we see an exhibit of pictures taken by Freya Stark in the 1930s. Next to a black and white picture of the dusty square of Seyyun filled with camels, there's a window, framing a 2006 update of the same square, paved this time, and the camels replaced with cars.
In the library of the museum, we find two books on display (below) - local favorites Bill Clinton and Ali Abdullah Saleh rubbing shoulders...
Further east on the road to Shibam, we stop for a luxurious lunch and siesta at Al Hawta Palace Hotel, the only hotel in the world made entirely out of mud. Usually tour groups from Japan and Europe stay here, but at lunch time the ample staff has spare time to show us around. From the roof of the hotel, we can see the hazy outline of the Manhattan of the Desert shimmer in the distance (above right).
Our passage through Shibam is a story of its own.
Biking in Wadi Hadramawt in four images. Above, indulging in blissful evening rides, heading west, well after midday heat and traffic. Gently sliding on smooth surface through backlit canyon scenery... Below, Candi in a heated discussion with a bunch of Hadrami shepherdesses on the way out of Shibam. Sporting their funky chapeaus, the shepherdesses are the outlaws of the rigid wadi world, cowgirls roaming around with flocks of sheep and goats, shamelessly shouting "I love you" (in English!) to unassuming travelers.
A girl on a bike in Yemen is sure to turn heads (above). There's only one paved road in the canyon, serving as the backbone to the continunous string of settlements, businesses and farmlands, so you'll hardly ever bike alone in Wadi Hadramawt. Below, an exception to the rule - still life with Candida, papaya groves, and canyon walls.
For me, the Hadrami interior remains, like the insides of its houses – aloof and enigmatic. I feel as though I had been wandering around a painting by de Chirico: a place drenched with light but empty of people. ... The Wadi walls are confining, more so than Yemen’s western mountainsides. I wondered if all Hadramis were closet claustrophobes, and if this was what made them travel. (tMS)
posted by Jan at 11:45 PM
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