Wadi Khabb - the Desert Garden of Yemen

Situated on the western edge of the forbidding sands of AlRub AlKhali or Empty Quarter desert, an hour drive from Najran, and two hours from AlHazem in Aljawf, the Yemeni eastern governorate, surrounded on the other three sides by rugged granite cliffs, is the Khabb valley. It stands at the confluence of the wadi, mountains and sands, whose fertile soils have been cultivated by man since time immemorial. A rich, beautiful, and fertile valley with ancient history, where traditional skills and style of living have survived into harsh modern era. In contrast to the stark surroundings, the Wadi Khabb valley has for thousands of years formed a garden retreat of great natural beauty and wealth, where traditional clay houses lie hidden among the dense palm groves, flowering orchards, and lush green fields.

Fertility and architecture
Traditional clay houses are surrounded by luxuriant palm groves, each is a kind of domestic fortress as much as nine stories high whose flat-top towers are crowned with ornately molded crenellations. Sandcastle like, they are not built to a single rigid design. They have their own individual form. In the past they may have served as effective fortifications. But they retain a warmth and softness – a homeliness - which accounts for their unique aesthetic appeal. The thick clay walls provide coolness, and tranquility of the interiors enhanced by diffused light that filters through strained – glass windows, surrounded with green fields, and orange groves.

Serene towers are rising naturally out of the earth. They were made in the midst of green palm groves. During another trip, Wadi Khabb was in full flood. Behind the long glittering sweep of the palm with soft dark clouds, hanging over the mountains in the background capturing the play of light and shade. The shelters of their inaccessible mountains were shared with eagles, their companions in dignity.

Countless little dishes were pressed upon us, dates in all varieties, shapes and tastes starting with date juice, date fetta, and date bread, date biscuits, also almonds, nuts, dried and fresh fruits as from the time immemorial when there was joy in living and glory and dying. The wadi was covered in a veil of peace and serenity which nothing seems to be able to destroy.

Everywhere people were sitting on the roofs, as if on terraces. Thousands of dates were drying on the roofs. The night hid the murmur of a thousand prayers and a thousand of memories were kept. In the past, long caravans came here to pass. Caravans knew that for weeks, and months, they had proceed in the same direction from Marib to Najran and onwards to the shores of Mediterranean confront the sands, perils, live, eat and pray, enjoy, grieve and sometimes die together. They eased to be strangers to each other, no vice remained hidden, no artifice could last.

With the passing of caravans they accumulated riches and knowledge, or perhaps a story, anecdote, a word, or greetings. They saw passing through different peoples, merchants, notables, students, or ulama. Countless palm gardens were once more full of delicious tender fruits, the dates.

From their watchtowers once so high, most of them remain in tact. Flat-topped towers, sand-like castles are hidden among dense palm groves, flowering orchards, and lush green fields. Here every day seems identical from dawn to dusk. Houses of the same colors of the sand and a contrasting explosion of color from inside. When prayers are finished conversation begins.

During the afternoons visiting begins, recognizing each other worth. It will be the same tomorrow and every day. The sun is about to burst behind the mountains. Incense burners release fragrant whisper of smoke, and sweetened their drinking water. An unique island civilization in the middle of vast sea of sand and rock. The scent of old Arabia is here, a mixture of triumph and personal sadness.

What is the sweetest thing in creation is being asked. The sweetest thing is love from the heart, am told. Towards the east palm groves soon fade into sands and the luxuriness of Wadi Khabb quickly vanishes. Behind is the realm of sand, wind and drought. Lost in the silence are the steps the sand dunes roll away. Great grandeur, full moon, edge of Empty Quarter across the filed of dead grass and coastline of sand along the horizon.