just got back from a fantastic week in Yemen where among other things I managed to wangle an invitation to a Yemeni wedding and had my first experience of chewing Qat, nicely crossing off two things from my To Do list in one foul swoop.
Qat or 'Khat' (pronounced cat), a mild stimulant, is everywhere in Yemen and on some afternoons you could be forgiven for thinking that the entire population is getting slowly cooked on piles of the leaves.
After a spot of frenzied haggling with their friendly local Qat seller, users gather their friends together and start the slow and laborious process of patiently picking the leaves off their piles of twigs or stems before chewing the leaves and deftly pushing them to the side of their mouth as they discuss the burning issues of the day.
The ultimate goal is to create a cricket ball-sized lump in your cheek (and get a bit of a buzz in the process). Taxi drivers, market sellers - even police and border guards, as the afternoon develops the bulging cheeks of the Qat chewer can be seen all around. But as the chewing session lengthens in hours the animated conversation ebbs and gives way to a more introspecitve time dubbed Solomon's Hour when the user becomes more wistful.
Qat or 'Khat' (pronounced cat), a mild stimulant, is everywhere in Yemen and on some afternoons you could be forgiven for thinking that the entire population is getting slowly cooked on piles of the leaves.
After a spot of frenzied haggling with their friendly local Qat seller, users gather their friends together and start the slow and laborious process of patiently picking the leaves off their piles of twigs or stems before chewing the leaves and deftly pushing them to the side of their mouth as they discuss the burning issues of the day.
The ultimate goal is to create a cricket ball-sized lump in your cheek (and get a bit of a buzz in the process). Taxi drivers, market sellers - even police and border guards, as the afternoon develops the bulging cheeks of the Qat chewer can be seen all around. But as the chewing session lengthens in hours the animated conversation ebbs and gives way to a more introspecitve time dubbed Solomon's Hour when the user becomes more wistful.
The thirsty Qat plant has been blamed for damaging the Yemeni environment, taking up scarce water and agricutural land at the expense of other crops, and linked to health risks like cancer - but try telling
the users that. Males users will assure you it makes you think of home
and girls and makes you a tiger in the bedroom (the last point in particular being the subject of some dispute).
But chewing Qat and storing it in your cheek, as a I soon learned, is something of an art - and a not unuseful one either as the alternative is having your Qat ball break up, resulting in you swallowing a load of bitter-tasting bits of chewed up fresh foliage, which is about as good as it sounds.
Before I hit the wedding my companion Noah spent around 20 minutes looking gravely serious as he studied various bags of Qat in the market before choosing ones for us he was happy with (to my untrained eye they all looked suspiciously similar). Bulging bags of Qat in hand we then hotfooted it to the wedding party.
After a bit of chewing and dancing in the streets I found myself in a big room with cushions lining the walls. All around me were Qat-chewing men in various states ranging from torpor to exuberant chattiness. Even the little kids were getting in on the act.
The Qat itself took a while to kick in but after a few hours of patient munching I started getting a bit of a buzz and I realised I was becoming a bit more animated as I watched the serious-faced men as they danced around in traditional garb waving their ceremonial daggers in the year. And all the while the band played on.
As midnight approached the groom left the building and the festivities started to wind down. By this point the floor was covered with so many discarded twigs and leaves it was reminiscent of a zoo enclosure after feeding time or a frenzied attack on an orchard.
Back outside again my companion Noah, who after a prolonged chewing session was now in something of a 'Qat funk', his former high spirits having deserted him, presented me with a Japanese tourist who'd also been invited along to the wedding. I thereupon spent a very pleasant time picking my way back to the hotel along the near-deserted narrow streets of old Sana'a, gabbling away in pidgin Japanese to my newcompanion as he responded in kind with his basic, animated English.
Arriving back at the hotel I found I was too wired to sleep and consequently only grabbed a few hours before I was up again with the lark (and the speakers in the nearby minarets) for a busy day of sightseeing but it was definitely worth it. I'm not entirely sure that chewing Qat will take the place of a couple of swift ones down the local for this boy but combined with a traditional Yemeni wedding it certainly made for a memorable night.
By Karl Cushing, features and supplements editor, Travel Weekly
But chewing Qat and storing it in your cheek, as a I soon learned, is something of an art - and a not unuseful one either as the alternative is having your Qat ball break up, resulting in you swallowing a load of bitter-tasting bits of chewed up fresh foliage, which is about as good as it sounds.
Before I hit the wedding my companion Noah spent around 20 minutes looking gravely serious as he studied various bags of Qat in the market before choosing ones for us he was happy with (to my untrained eye they all looked suspiciously similar). Bulging bags of Qat in hand we then hotfooted it to the wedding party.
After a bit of chewing and dancing in the streets I found myself in a big room with cushions lining the walls. All around me were Qat-chewing men in various states ranging from torpor to exuberant chattiness. Even the little kids were getting in on the act.
The Qat itself took a while to kick in but after a few hours of patient munching I started getting a bit of a buzz and I realised I was becoming a bit more animated as I watched the serious-faced men as they danced around in traditional garb waving their ceremonial daggers in the year. And all the while the band played on.
As midnight approached the groom left the building and the festivities started to wind down. By this point the floor was covered with so many discarded twigs and leaves it was reminiscent of a zoo enclosure after feeding time or a frenzied attack on an orchard.
Back outside again my companion Noah, who after a prolonged chewing session was now in something of a 'Qat funk', his former high spirits having deserted him, presented me with a Japanese tourist who'd also been invited along to the wedding. I thereupon spent a very pleasant time picking my way back to the hotel along the near-deserted narrow streets of old Sana'a, gabbling away in pidgin Japanese to my newcompanion as he responded in kind with his basic, animated English.
Arriving back at the hotel I found I was too wired to sleep and consequently only grabbed a few hours before I was up again with the lark (and the speakers in the nearby minarets) for a busy day of sightseeing but it was definitely worth it. I'm not entirely sure that chewing Qat will take the place of a couple of swift ones down the local for this boy but combined with a traditional Yemeni wedding it certainly made for a memorable night.
By Karl Cushing, features and supplements editor, Travel Weekly
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