A journey of colours Wadi Khabb is Yemen’s oasis [Archives:2002/52/Last Page]

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December 23 2002

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BY IRENA KNEHTL
FOR THE YEMEN TIMES
Situated on the western edge of the forbidding sands of the Rub AlKhali, an hour drive from Najran, and two hours from Hazem in the Al Jawf governorate, surrounded on its other three sides by rugged granite cliffs, is the Wadi Khabb. It stands at the confluence of the Wadi, mountains, and sands, whose fertile soils have been cultivated by man since time immemorial.
It is a rich, beautiful and fertile valley with ancient history, where traditional skills and styles of living have survived into harsh modern era.
In contrast to their 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. It has been recorded as calm and prosperous region during the time of the Himiyar civilization. Roman legionaries under Aelius Gallus attempted to capture it during the reign of Augustus Caesar.
Fertility and architecture
Traditional clay houses are surrounded by luxuriant palm groves. Each of these houses is a kind of domestic fortress as much as nine stories high whose tapering, flat-topped towers are crowned with ornately molded crenellations. Sand-castle like, they are not built to a single rigid design, but have their own individual form.
In the past they served also as effective fortifications. But they retain a warmth and softness – a homeliness that accounts for their unique aesthetic appeal. The thick clay walls provide an exceptional coolness, and the air of tranquility of the interiors enhanced by diffused light that filters through strained-glass windows, surrounded by 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, and 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, and biscuits, but also almonds, nuts, dried and fresh fruits as from the time immemorial when there was joy in living and glory and dying. Wadi was covered in a veil of peace and serenity which nothing seems to be able to destroy as if created for eyes, limbs and heart.
During Spring, the sun is made milder by thick clouds. Everywhere, people were sitting on the roofs, as if on terraces, and were talking to one another. Thousands of dates were drying on the roofs. The night hid the murmur of a thousand prayers, and thousand of memories were kept. Countless marriages were performed after Eid alFitr celebration.
In the past, long caravans came past here. Wadi Khabb was a very important station, a stopover, on the incense trail. Caravans knew that for weeks, and months, they had to proceed in the same direction, from Mareb to Najran and onwards, confront the same 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 only a story, anecdote, a word, or greeting. They saw passing through different peoples, merchants, notables, students, or ulama.
Countless palm gardens were once more full of delicious tender fruit, the dates. From their watch towers once so high, most of them remain in tact. Flat-topped towers, sand-like castles are hidden among dense palm groves and flowering orchards, and lush green fields, whose fertile soils have been cultivated by the man since time immemorial. Here every day seems identical from dawn to dusk.
Houses are of the same colors of the sand and have a contrasting explosion of colors 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 the drinking water.
Wadi Khabb, the oasis of life, once stopover for caravans passing from Mareb en route to Najran, on the ancient trade route from India, offers outstanding architecture, no one building seems the same, palm groves, row of palm trees, 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, and feeling of pleasure after its absence. 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 field of dead grass and a coastline of sand along the horizon.
Modern times are different:
They have to do something about issues such as hopes, dreams, justice, respect and inclusion of opportunities, cooperation and exchange.
To open us means to choose the path of knowledge.
In case of Wadi Kabb it would be most important to tap their emotional energy in order to get their commitment and pride for modern Yemen. Further due to its good geographical location between Mareb and Najran besides building of essential infrastructure and provision of services creation of an investment atmosphere would be of special interest. Some of the projects and or undertaking: marketing of agricultural products, dates, vegetables, corns and citrus, packaging plants for dates and fruits, bottling plants for water and juices. There is plenty of pure water, improvement of irrigation systems and vocational education.


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