Sleepless in Sana'a....

Sounds romantic?... trust me, it isnt.Unless you consider laying down wide eyed staring at your ceiling a romantic experience..in which case,it doesnt take much to sweep you off your feet. Sleepless in Sana'a is how Ive been for the past two weeks. My zombified expression testifies it to be true, and the bags under my eyes I could go shopping with.. I really dont know what it comes down to. I've heard a lot of theories as to why I may be finding it hard to sleep, such as " Get off the drugs, John" or, "Maybe you have a lot on your mind", but the most plausible so far came of course from my sensible cousin Alexis, which was "John, its the altitude bro, It plays funny tricks on your sleeping patterns". Ok, so its not me being high in Sana'a that is the problem, but Sana'a being high up. That should make my mum feel better already.

Apparently if you have low blood pressure, which Alexis usually has in Australia, the altitude stimulates your blood to produce more white blood cells, which in turn helps the body to retrieve more oxygen, which then helps you sleep like a king... if you have low blood pressure that is. As for me, I now have officially developed a high intolerance to resembling a zombie from the night of the living dead. Im averaging three hours per night, which multiplied by seven is barely a full day sleep per week. Then there is my beloved and dearly cherished random skanky street dog that has suffers from some sort of mental illness. He is not my dog, but some white skanky dog sent from the pits of hell whose sole purpose in life is to come directly beneath my window and bark for hours on end at.....a wall? Seriously, I dont know if this dog has suffered some traumatic experience as a pupp whereas he was continuosly thrown against a wall, or maybe ran into a wall one day and never forgot about it, but even if so... then why my wall? There are so many walls to go nuts on in Sana'a, but this dog has chosen the 2x2 square metre block of wall directly beneath my window for no apparent reason.

So I'll be laying in bed, tossing and turning, convincing my eyelids they are tired, hypnotizing my brain into some sort of mantra like state where, as there are no sheep in Sana'a I find myself closing my eyes and counting skanky street cats jumping over a fence....One skanky street cat...two skanky street cats..and so on. But the latter is to no avail, as eventually I realize that counting skanky street cats just isn't sending me to sleep. At around 4 am in the morning, just when Im on the possible verge of maybe, just maybe, falling asleep, white Lucifer appears from nowhere. I can hear his skanky paws approaching my down-trodden alley as soon as he nears the corner. He has this fatigued ,asthmatic like breathing technique, kind of like he's on his last breath, which unfortunately never seems to come true.
He pauses briefly, gasps one last asmthatic drool towards the floor, then begins the long 3 metre journey towards the wall beneath my window. I've sat there countless times observing him, at first trying to scare him off, but this also to no avail.
Point is, there are at least 10 windows along the driveway...so, once again, why mine? Once in position, which is directly placed staring at the nothingness of my white wall, he begins his lament. Ten minute intervals of the most miserable barking Ive heard in my life. A lazy..Woof..Woof...Woouuuf...Ahhh..(gasps for more air..) Wooouuf... and on and on. This is a ritual he performs for the next hour. By then my nerves are frail. Rapid eye movement sets in as my eyelids flutter like a butterfly on crack cocaine...begging to be laid in peace, to close for just one hour at least. Then, right on time for the Incredibly loud prayers to come pouring out of the mosque's megaphone at 5 in the morning, a whole new type of lament begins, and the dog disappears, just like a bad dream, only this is a re-occuring one.
Sometimes walking back from class, where I teach graphics, I'll be walking my usual journey back through the perished streets of Saafia. Its mid afternoon, the sun is high, I'm armed with a red bull in hand, completely fatigued from the day's occurences, when all of a sudden...Lucifer, the Skank..appears from nowhere. He'll be wagging his balding tail, happy he's found a new pile of rubbish on the streets to savour, when, as if he knows something is not quite right, he turns his head slowly, towards me...our eyes meet. Im not sure if he knows I know its him, because the other night when I threw a half drunk can of coke on his skanky head he didnt even budge... or look up..just kept on his demoniacal barking uninterrupted, Coke still dripping down his furry face. But he knows something is not right..the vibes just arent the same, the atmosphere has thickened with hate, and so our eyes meet, and they remain locked for the twenty or so seconds it takes for me to make my John Wayne walk past his skanky fatigued self. We both know we've seen each other somewhere before, just not sure when, and we both know our paths will cross again...

To Be Continued...