Sanaa The City Of White

Sanaa is the city of Yemen.
There is not in the Tihama
nor in the Hijaz a city nobles
in its origin and wealth
Ibn Rustah

Sanaa is often described as the Pearl Of Arabia with its white minarets, doms and mud skyscrapers. It lies in the middle of Yemeni highlands, the city has perfect climate. It is one of the oldest inhabited cities in the world. Its role in the great civilizations of South Arabia remains half legend, full of romantic description and speculations.

One of the reasons for development of those civilizations, lies in the geography of the Arabian peninsula. South from Mecca, the mountain chain runs parallel with the Red Sea which contains the monsoon rains. In the past caravans journeyed to the north, loaded with incense, spices, balsam, silk and indigo to fill the bustling markets in the north. The world here is scented with thousand scents, as in the past on the incense trail that run across the Peninsula to the shores of Mediterranean.

Sanaa today is an almost 5 Million modern metropolis of 1990 united Yemen. An important economic and business center of Southern Arabia. In this city the architecture has an important place, it is the pride and enjoyments of its inhabitants. When I saw its white minarets and domes first, the city granted me its fragrance and said: COME. Here I saw how clouds become colors and facts became dreams.

But after the sun goes down the city becomes alive.

The sun rises on streets empty of strollers, vendors or even cats. A man and mule come into view, a produce vendor riding into the city from his farm near bye.

Flat breads, potatoes, onions, garlic tomatoes and melons.
Jasmine and incense. Grapes, raisins and dates.
Papayas from the Tihama and mangos.
Oranges, apples, apricots.
Rose water in bottles.
Almonds, nuts.
Coffee beans and spices.

All from its green geometric terraces and wadis. Take me to the raisin market. Rove with my heart in the silver market. Where morning derives ink and plumes for its colors. Here you see a drizzle of perfume filtering through the rays of light. Over there is the attar, perfume, market. Where beautiful women sprinkle their clothes in scents of musk and jasmine and where the essence of flowers wait for bottles. The refreshing space leaves its place willingly in order to sleep in the bottom of the glass and dream of pleasure.

This city has no ceiling to separate it from heaven. No fear reaches it from the mountain peaks. Fortune and poverty are its allies. The sun accompanies the city until sunsets. The city wall and rows of stone rectangles and square. They are feeling rich and eternal. They appear soft and fresh. Clouds are painting the picture of rain. While butterflies dream of green grass. They are only sleeping. They will emerge from its sleep after a year. I tell you after twenty years. And it will wash its feet in the blood of Sabean kigns. It will dance until morning and until evening.

At Tahrir square where the old and new Sanaa meet fresh oranges, pomegranates, bananas, grapes, guavas, melons, mangos serve in season as its own advertisement for fresh juice. The streets and alleys of the old city begin to bustle once again as the setting sun loses its strength and the shadows strengthen. Merchants chew delicious green leaves of qat. The songs rise above the dust and the mingled smells of meat and garlic and apricots, grapes, raisons, and spices.

The Rhythm of the street quickens.

Shop keepers spot passing tourists. Local made cloths with the color of the sun, and patterns of the earth and green wadis are on display. By the time the days final call to prayer fades away the market streets are calm at last. After the sun has set in the watches of the night, the God of Moon whitens the faces.

Moon, stars, clouds.

But the old city rises early the next morning with more bustle, more color, more voice. Shopkeepers these days tend to do their own sprinkling. Clothing vendors hang long night gowns, scarves, blouses. Beans, lever, fish, kebabs, eggs, cheese are breakfast food in Sanaa. Children pile into school buses. Mini buses decorated with advertisements. Bicyclist, scooters, pedestrians, all view for a place on the road. Traffic policemen whistle and wave.

Once again the roads that waited have gone to sleep. Dust has wiped out all the footsteps. It is a little cold. A little quiet. The air. Look at the stars, they are dripping incense and spices. They return at dawn with news of the world. Passed ancient trees, wild flowers and roses. Past butterflies drifting through the air.

Like happy messengers.

SANAA is due to its outstanding architecture under UNESCO protection. A monument of mankind and Arab culture capital during 2004.