UNHCR: UNITED NATIONS HIGH COMMISSION FOR REFUGEES

NAMES IN MY BLOG ENTRIES WILL BE CHANGED TO PROTECT IDENTITIES OF PARTIES INVOLVED.

This Blog entry is in regards to the first meeting I attended with Raquel, the wonderful Community Services manager who allowed me the opportunity to volunteer in Yemen. I have skipped on a few days happenings in between but will catch up on those in following blogs and will let pictures and videos soon to come speak a thousand words.
On wednesday I was invited by Raquel to attend a meeting on AIDS and health issues amongst the refugee community in Yemen comprised mostly of Somali and Ugandan people.
We arrived at the hotel where the meeting was held only to find that out of 40 of the invited representatives from the various NGO's ( Non Government Organizations)only 6 showed up. 5 from our office. It was a real let down and Raquel was furious. I took one look at her and knew heads were about to roll. We waited around for a while in the hope of some late arrivals, and speaking to a lovely U.N.V named Monique, this is what I learnt....


* To my knowledge so far, rape and sexual assaults are rife in Sana'a. Assaults are commonly perpetrated on children and women who seem to be the easier target firstly due to their social position and also due to the lack of forensic facilities in Sana'a itself. A rape of a woman for instance can only be prosecuted if reported within the first 24 hours of the occurence. This is made extremely difficult firstly by the fact that refugees here are completely looked down upon and disregarded by the local authorities. Access to hospitals or police station is restricted and hard to gain access to for a Yemenese, let alone a refugee. A woman must also have five female witnesses to the event, as well as needing to retain evidence of the attack, which then in turn needs to be sent to the only forensic facility which is in Jordan...another country away.This is a time consuming process which greatly increases the perpetrator's chances of getting away with the crime scott free.
Many offenders presently walk the streets of Yemen as free men,which would no doubt increase their confidence of a repeat offense knowing that the chances of being punished are extremely few and rare.

There has been a recend incident where a six year old boy was raped and killed.
As the story goes, a father took his young boy to the barber to get a hair cut. He temporarily left the boy there while he went off to run some errands. While the father was away, the barber raped the young boy, then to silence any evidence he took the child to the seventh floor and threw him out of the window.
At the father's return he enquired of his child where abouts and was informed by the barber that the child made his own way home. The father became suspicious and began an investigation.

After a lenghty enquiry the barber was found to be guilty. Under the law of the Koran, if a person is found guilty of rape, he is to be thrown from the window od the tallest building in the city. As the tallest buildings in the city are run by foreign government agencies, this was not possible, so it was decided that the barber was to be first shot dead, and for his limp body to be thrown out of the same window the child was thrown from.

Justice is seldom in Yemen, but carried out to the harshest extreme when guilt is proven. This is one of the few stories where justice ran its course, but many innocent cries have been unheard. This is something that needs to change.

Sana'a Sana'a,big city of dreams...like...keep dreaming

Finally In Sana'a. The plane is about to land on an airstrip missing half its tarmac. Everyone on the plane crosses their fingers and begins their prayer to which ever God they may believe in. I begin to sweat profusely. The air strip seems to be roughly 600 meters long. Long enough to land a paper plane no doubt... but Im flying on one which is surely double the length of the runway. The adventure begins. Im flying Yemen air.....comforting then when rattling noises mean the wheels are out and ready to kiss the tarmac perhaps one last time. The seat belt lights flash on and off,perhaps the electrical wiring has seen better days, or maybe its an arab tradition to do and undo ur seat belt as landing approaches. The rattling noise increases, almost to a deafening level. We are now 100, 80, 60, 40, 20 meters to........TOUCHDOWN!!!!!!!! The plane lands as gently as an 800 kg ballerina attempting a backflip... I open my eyes and uncross my fingers. Either we made it or heaven is one hell of a let down. No, we made it Im reassured by a hostess as keen to get off the plane as I am. Im looking for the airport but all I can see is a tiny little building who's sign reads S N A A PO T.
Either its an anagram or its missing a few letters, I decide on the latter and as I descend down the rickety plane stairs I head for the building. Surely it cannot be the airport...its 10 x10 meters and there are people yelling and pushing each other into a claustrophobic cue where I am handed two leaflets in arab. I think Im supposed to fill them out so I can hand it to the guy standing in the cubicle chewing on some strange grass. Only problem is I cannot speak arab...so... where do I put my name and so on? I decide to fluke it, start filling out random info such as my favourite colour and which pop band I prefer and as I smile my way past the AK 47 guard also chewing on the strange grass, I hand the leaflet to the cubicle guy. He reads it, gives me a strange look, like.... YOU DO KNOW BULLETS HURT RIGHT?...but decides Im probably mentally ritarded and therefore not a major threat to Yemen, so after looking for the appropriate stamp for about ten minutes, he stamps my life goodbye, the guard puts the safety catch back on the AK and Im given the green light to proceed. I'll skip through how long it took me to retrieve my luggage and fast forward to having hugged my cousin and making my way to his house in the taxi he has waiting outside. The taxis in Yemen are recycled from post world war 1. Some are missing doors, some rear view mirrors, some have wobbly wheels just screaming to be set free, and all are rusty beyond the point of recognition. This does not however deter the drivers from Impersonating Michael Shumaker ( forgive the spelling) as they scream down pot holed roads at maniacal speeds. There are no road rules in Yemen,either than the bigger car wins the right of way, and the boldest driver takes home the loot.
We make it, somehow, to Lex's pad. Its early morning, I havent slept in three days and Im beginning to hallucinate. I must however remain awake just another 12 to make sure I get over the jet lag. My first day is a blur. All I remember is almost being run over on an average of 5 times a minute as we walk the streets to find some food. EVERYONE IS STARING AT ME. Could it be Im twice the height and width of your average Yemenese, or the deranged look on my face as I try to stay with it just a few more hours. We eat, I mumble something to Lex and all I recall after that is hitting the bed.......hard!!. Yemen will indeed be an interesting place.....

On the way, finally.

After what seemed like ages twisting and turning on the plane trying to find some sort of comfortable position, the pilot finally announced we would be descending in Dubai and to please ditch any drugs or American propaganda we may have. Not quite the Arab world yet, but good preparation for what lies ahead. The plane lands, I bump my head on the airplane door one more time while exiting and find myself at the Dubai airport. I only have one hour before my connecting flight to Sana'a, so I decide to wonder around the airport to see what delights Dubai has to offer.

It seems there arent too many 6 foot 4 blondies walking around the airport so Im immediately met by curious stares. Maybe its the way I look. Completely zombified from a sleepless flight and desperately in need of a shower. My ears are still more obtuse than a pack of drunken rednecks as I begin to ask directions to the departure gate. A coffee is definately in order to kickstart enough braincells to get me to the gate. Perhaps a ciggie might go down well too. I ask directions to thhe smoking room and as time is passing by quickly Dubai itself will need to remain unexplored for the time being, which is just as well as I just paid 14 US dollars for an apple juice....So so cheap. Two days here and I would be broke and on my way back to Oz. After a 15 minute walk I arrive to the smoking room. It is absolutely gruesome. I walk inside and develope

bronchitis,lung cancer and emphasyma all in the first breath. Disgusting..feral..are the first words I can think of. Im surrounded by a pack of smoking afficionados . They stem from all parts of the world, all magically drawn to the one shitty disgusting room at the dubai airport to share in the same common passion....chain smoking. It seems there is some sort of unspoken yet understood contest going on as to who can continuosly light one ciggie of the last in an never ending conquest to smoke themselves to death. The winner gets to leave in a body bag. I light mine up, but I just cant seem to do it. Its way too depressing in here. I take one drag, met by curious eyes wondering if perhaps I too am there to join the death contest. Not today thank you... I butt mine out after the first drag and walk out of the gas chamber minus 3/4 of my noirmal lung function.

As i proceed to the Sana'a gate Im approached by a nosey airport worker who asks me" Hi, where are you travelling to?"... I feel like saying mind your business but I reply " to Sana'a"!!, cheesy smile plastered over my sleepy face. His jaw drops, he searches for words to say, but all he manages is a drawn out...."why?".. as in..why the heck would you possibly want to go there..

I tell him, no, Im not part of a western espionage organization and no, Im not going there to be trained in a terrorist camp.. Im just visiting my cousin.. he lives there, we are very close and I need a vacation.. and seriously..does it really matter anyways?. His face is puzzled, he searches for clues, I give him none. An uncomfortable silence holds us both stunned like dear in headlights, this is my cue to cut the odd conversation short, so with a quick...well, have a good time working in this extremely expensive airport, I grab a hold of my hand luggage and continue towards the gate. Give me some sleep.. Give me Sana'a... air travel sucks...