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Out of Yemen

Yemen exists primarily, one suspects, to provide a definition logic by providing a diametric opposite. As I post this I'm sitting in Sanaa airport waiting for my flight to Amman, and I would be enjoying my first wireless connection in a week if it were not slower than the dialup I've had to make do with.

Out of the 20 odd million people, something like 50% (60 something persent of men and 30 something percent of women) are perpetually drugged on khat. It probably affects the remaining 50% given that the environment can't be too stimulating when one out of every two citizens is stoned as a matter of lifestyle.

This is not a critical post, it is observational. A friendlier people than the Yemenis are hard to find. The picture herein attests to this, taken in a vilage in the southern governorate of Abyan.

Children in AbyanChildren in Abyan

But still, it's a country where the police escort asked me for money for drugs, where I left ketchup footprints in a hotel room, and where my colleague failed to avoid sticking her nose perilously (and almost fatally) near to a man's armpit.

More on this matter if I have the time, inclination, and if I survive the first class lounge in Sanaa International Airport.

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