Saleh, my driver in Wadi Hadramawt, brought me to his home in the middle after the day, when the sun is bright and everything slows down. We had spent the morning exploring al-Kathiri Palace in Seiyun, and some crumbling palaces and the famous library in the nearby town of Tarim, and wanted to wait until late afternoon, when the light is better for photographs, before going to Shibam.
After admiring his father’s impressive classic car collection, I was invited upstairs for lunch. The women and children and I sat cross legged in a spacious room, no furniture but numerous pillows stacked against the wall. Presently food was brought in for me on a large tin tray. I felt a bit self conscious eating alone, but ate happily - a succulent piece of grilled tuna, rice, salad of thinly sliced carrots and tomatoes, a bowl of stewed vegetables. Delicious.
Presently, Medina arrived and slowly prepared the henna as she chatted with the other women. I ate and smiled, and watched Medina mix the dark powder with a bit of water in a small bowl, then spoon it into a cone of plastic cut from a plastic bag, tipped with a bit of electric tape. When I had finished eating and cone was filled, she piped delicate designs of leaves and vines on my hands and wrists, front and back. Saleh’s wife nursed the baby boy, then fed him bits of boiled potato mashed with her fingers. The girls watched and giggled. The young mother shifted the baby and dabbed the designs with sliced lemon. The henna formed a thick crust which I scraped off hours later back at the hotel. The delicate designs remained for ten days or so before fading away.
Medina was not interested in visiting Shibam that afternoon, but agreed to accompany me to the Shrine of the Prophet Hud the next morning.
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