My Story: Life in Yemen
After arriving in Yemen on April 12, 2006, our first day didn't go well because Ahmed showed me immediately that he was NOT, as he had claimed so many times, a changed man. He was not interested in seeing his children or spending time with them, after not having seen them in 4 years, and he was still, to my dismay, a violent man.
It was a long trip, however, and he had paid over $5000 for the round-trip plane tickets, so I decided to try to make the best of it, knowing that it would only be for the summer. We were supposed to go back home to the States before the kids started school in August.
The first week was a miserable one, because Ahmed was mean and cruel and abusive to me and the kids every single day. He demanded that the kids stay away from him and listen to his every command the first time he said it without ever speaking back to him. I had always encouraged my kids to express their feelings and opinions - the good and the bad, because I don't think it's healthy for kids to have to learn to bottle up their emotions or to only say those things which people want them to say. I've taught them respect, but I taught them that respect is a two-way street - respect is something you earn. I also spent years stressing the need to "be a man of your word", meaning, if you say you're gonig to do something, then you better do it. It's one of our mottoes.
None of the things I taught them prepared them for life in Yemen with their father. In his world, he was God. He wanted nothing more than respect and fear and total submission from anyone around him, demanding respect without giving any in return. He constantly made promises and said he would do things, but never fulfilled his promises. For example, he had promised to play with them, but after our arrival, he refused any type of such "frivolity". He wanted his kids to be "out of sight and out of mind". He said there were tons of toys at his house, but when we arrived, we discovered that there was not one single toy for them to play with, and he refused to spend ANY money on them for anything. We didn't bring many clothes, because he told them he would buy them all new clothes. After arriving, he claimed that he didn't have money to buy them clothes. He did make his sister, however, who is a doctor, to go buy them some clothes to wear.
That was a disaster. When shopping in America, I let my children choose what clothes they liked. In Yemen when they went clothes shopping with Ahmed and his sister, my children were excited to pick some clothes for themselves. However, he got angry, because, in his mind, kids are not allowed to have an opinion, and they were not allowed to choose what they wanted. They were ESPECIALLY not allowed to state their opinions or ask for something.
I soon found out why he told me not to bring any clothes to Yemen. In America, the girls wore shorts and dresses and short-sleeved shirts. In Yemen, he wanted them to be completely covered from head to foot - only long sleeves, long pants, etc. Yemen is a very, very hot place, especially for us Ohioans who are used to cold weather most of the year. Wearing heavy, long-sleeved shirts and pants in 100-degree weather is absurd, in my opinion. The kids definitely felt that way, too. That got them into trouble, as they protested against the clothes he picked out and were punished and hit for daring to speak to him as an equal. Each child only got two outfits, meaning their total wardrobe consisted of approximately 4 outfits total.
The living arrangements were also very hard to deal with. His house is a 3-story concrete box surrounded by a 10-foot concrete wall (because women aren't to be seen there). On the first floor, there are 3 bedrooms, a bathroom, and a small kitchen. Each bedroom is about 12 feet sqaure. One bedroom is occupied by his sister. The second bedroom is occupied by his father and his schizophrenic brother. The 5 of us shared the remaining bedroom, and all 5 of us were relegated to sleep in the one bed, which is smaller than the average twin-size bed in America.
I suppose they didn't want to buy the kids very many clothes because there was nowhere to store any clothes. There was one wardrobe in the bedroom that contains 5 small shelves. Each of us got one shelf to put all their clothes and belongings on. It is very cramped, and there is no privacy whatsoever. The second floor is inhabited by Ahmed's brother and his wife and chidlren, and the third floor is occupied by his other brother, his wife, and their 3 children. There are also two guest rooms on the first floor where they meet their guests - one for women and one for men. These two rooms were to be kept "spotless at all times", since guests could stop by at any time. As a result, there was no room for my kids to run around and play, and after being used to having their own rooms and their own space, the cramped quarters gave them no space to get away from their brother and sister, and their own tempers started to flare as a result.
Ahmed made it clear that we were not allowed to leave the house beyond the front gate, claiming that "They really hate Americans here and you are not safe". We became prisoners inside those 4 concrete walls surrounding his house, since he would never take the time to take us outside for a walk, except on rare occasions.
When we did go out, he made me wear the long, black robe that all the women are forced to wear, and the headscarf. I told him that I don't believe in wearing the scarf, in fact I am adamantly opposed to it and what it represents to me. We fought about that, but he would not let me leave without wearing the scarf and the heavy, black robe - which is very difficult when it's 100 degrees! Once again, he got what he wanted, as he always does. He never gives up until he gets people to do what he wants, when he wants it, and how he wants it done.
