We would never have thought that in Yemen the most common phrases we would hear would be "hello welcome to Yemen, we are happy that you are here". We hear this every day since we arrive. Perhaps the contented grin is a direct result of a green leaf called "qat" and the stoned like state it appears to bring about amongst its users. The men carry big bunches inside a plastic bag, and to watch them chew it, is comparable to watching a cow chew its cud- they grind it to a pesto paste, until it looms like a huge abscess inside their cheek. And everyone chews it, everywhere, all day long it seems.
Our pre conceived perceptions had been that Yemen was a dangerous unstable country and held an ominous view of westerners. Let's face it; Yemen doesn't come to mind as a destination for your next vacation. And a sensitive Western media does nothing to make you feel that it could be any different. Granted, its troubles are not few; it doesn't have the wealth that its neighbors posses; poverty is omnipresent and being the only country in the Arabian Peninsula who accepts refugees, it struggles with a huge influx of destitute Africans arriving on its shores. As a tourist you cannot drive from Aden to the capital of Sana'a because of inner tribal conflicts. And as the taxi driver explained, Yemeni citizens are only allowed to enter Egypt, Syria and Jordan without difficulty since every other country assumes "all Yemeni citizens are terrorists". Even in Saudi Arabia they greeted with hostility, which in itself is quite an irony. Yemeni's insist that the terrorists are unsolicited extremists from elsewhere who have infiltrated Yemen and use it as a base for these activities. As usual, there is a lot of unmerited confusion.
Being here in Aden does not feel threatening however, and we are immersed in a completely new culture which we have an avid curiosity about. The segregation between women and men is apparent and obvious and you tend to sympathize with a situation that demands that women must hide behind a dark veil with only a tiny viewing window exposed. But when we quizzed the taxi driver about the lives of women; he laughed, casually revealing how beneficial the veil can be it when used to disguise a clandestine rendezvous with a boyfriend-an amusing way to look at it!
You'd never be short of a handbag or a pair of shoes; at the shopping centre every second store is either one or the other, I guess if it's the only thing you can make visible you'd want to at least ensure it to be fashionable. But on the 2nd floor we discovered lot's of western clothes for sale, some of which were less than demure-now where is the market for that sort of stuff you'd wonder, as we did. Again, our curiosity forced us to quiz, and the clerk told us that the women wear these clothes at home.

4pm brings relief from the day's heat, shops reopen and the streets come alive as people emerge from their homes. There is a playground close to the harbor, and Kara, Nina and Lucas are keen to run around and play. Our little minority group becomes the subject of much curiosity. Children gather around, muttering a few words in English, and shy smiling young girls give us flowers, giggle at us, and tell us we are welcome. Uwe and Werner have traveled this far around the world without ever being told they were beautiful; and this coming from women that they can't even see. Even older men stop and politely welcome us and ask us where we are from. While most of the womens' faces are hidden, every so often there's one that is not. Lucia asked one such young girl why she exposes her face, and she said that it is her choice, because she doesn't like her face being covered. You are left wondering if the dress code is just a pre imposed fraction of the culture that has grown to become part of an accepted tradition, and/or family choice more than anything else, or if some women are ready to challenge the norms.
The traffic in Aden is busy and chaotic, with qat induced men zooming in all directions. We witnessed one incident in eye opening Arabtown, where a misfortunate individual was knocked over by a speeding vehicle, only to be pulled aside and left on the sidewalk, as the impatient drivers continued on their way. While the mosque implores to its followers with a drone that can only be called painful, most cars blast some form of rock, one taxi driver was particularly fond of replaying the same "Shakira" song over and over. Communication is difficult, but fun. While desperately trying to find the Arabic word for "thank you" from the back of our Middle East Lonely Planet book, we almost said it in Hebrew. The "Shakira" taxi driver seemed to know exactly where we wanted to go, when we flagged him down and asked how much it would cost to the tourist port, a fare that seemed agreeable. 5 mins later he stopped by a travel office, where guys approached us with airline tickets to San'a, we soon realized he had no idea where to bring us- but he knew the price!
We experienced a local Yemeni restaurant which was full of lots of men and flies and great tasting food.
We're well rested now and ready to move on and enter the Southern Red Sea, via Eritrea, Africa.