The day out started feeling as if it would be more peaceful. My weekend had already been a roller coaster of emotions and events in my personal life, but I was feeling pretty good as I walked out my front gate to grab lunch in Tahrir Square.Just a minute or two after leaving home I ran into a French student's father who I hadn't seen in weeks. We enjoyed a great conversation and held similar views about how fascinating it is to be living in Sana'a now, especially the neighborhood we are located in, which is directly between the large pro-government demonstration in Tahrir Square and he large anti-government protest in Change Square. He also informed me that his wife and two kids got back to Sana'a after a two week visit to family in France.
I continued walking and in Tahrir Square was greeted by the usual large gathering around Friday's noon call to prayer. This has only recently grown to the level that it is and over the past few weeks and has frequently been the starting point for large pro-government marches, a couple of which I unintentionally joined while walking to friends' homes. The area was somewhat quieter than other days, but there were perhaps more people in Tahrir than I have ever seen. Ali Abdul Mogny Street, which runs right between Tahrir Square and The Old City, was closed off for at least two kilometers and was nearly filled with people knelt in prayer. The Friday sermon once again had control over the sound waves and on either side of the road people bustled with activity.
After a delicious lunch at a favorite restaurant, I decided to take in the scene and get some pictures. I enjoyed several small conversations with people curious about the 'foreign guy' in the demonstration and appreciated the Arabic practice I got in the process. Throughout this time military helicopters buzzed around at a very low level, although what they were doing I do not know. After about an hour I started to head towards home before going to my Arabic teacher's house for our usual long Friday afternoon class. I felt I had got some great pictures and that little else could be accomplished by my presence there.
On 26 September Street near my apartment I stopped to buy some fruit from my favorite bukalla and again enjoyed some great conversation with some locals I both know and don't know. A few hundred meters from my front gate I stopped to talk to a group of soldiers standing in the street between the Prime Minister's Office and the Radio Station. They had initiated the conversation by asking where I was from, "Roossia? Franceea?" After telling that I was from America, we enjoyed some conversation in Arabic, which included an explanation about the unique looking gun one of them was holding. I had asked them what the large device on the end of the barrel was for, which without would have been a normal shotgun, and was told that it was for firing the mystery gas canisters that have been shot on the protesters in Change Square a couple times over the past few weeks.
I then asked if I could get a couple pictures or two of them. They were excited at this opportunity and quickly agreed to it. They were even more excited when I then asked if I could get a picture taken with them, and soon I was standing with the soldiers, all of us smiling and me holding the gas gun. I then told each of them it was a pleasure to meet them and we shook hands as I walked the last bit of the way home.
When I got to my apartment, where I planned to stay for only twenty minutes, I tried to quickly upload my photos from the day in protests at that point. After having some difficulty with the usually inconsistent internet connection, I started to gather my things and to head for the home of Subhi, my Arabic teacher and great friend. While walking past my bathroom towards the front door I heard the unfortunately familiar sound of gunfire and went to the window to see if I could see anything. As I looked out the window, continuing to hear gunfire, I was able to determine that the shooting was taking place near Change Square and then saw smoke coming from near where the shots were being fired. I immediately sensed a change in the mood for the day, which only continued to grow in intensity.
I then walked back the short distance it is to Subhi's home, passing by the same soldiers I had previously enjoyed the photo op with. The guns and the mission they were upholding seemed quite different at this time, despite being only twenty-five minutes later. The thought crossed my mind that soldiers just like them could have been firing similar guns and weapons from near the protest in Change Square. I still waved and smiled, but unfortunately had a growing sense of tension and a mix of emotions hid beneath the surface.
I was greeted at Subhi's by his neighbor boys and brothers, Mohammed, Ali, and Abdulrahman. We have grown quite fond of each other since I started studying at Subhi’s home and during our brief conversation this time, Mohammed taught me the Arabic words for gunfire, black smoke, and fire. After walking through the the front doors I then saw Subhi, his wife, and oldest daughter. I felt the usual warmth and comfort from them and proceeded to make myself at home in the mufraj room.
I knew we would be watching the news reports about the situation from the day and looked forward to finding out more about the gunfire and smoke I had heard. After a short time, Al-Jazeera began to broadcast live footage and news updates on one of its channels. The smoke was coming from near the intersection of The Ring Road (Dairie) and Iran Street, which is near a favorite restaurant of mine and the grocery story City Mart. It is also very close to my close friend Mohammad’s house. The footage continued to grow in intensity and the news updates came in quicker and quicker. It felt very surreal to watch footage from an area of Sana’a that is a ten minute walk from my apartment and part of my familiar territory. I had last been at Change Square on Wednesday on my usual walk home from school and only a few hundred meters from the location where the current violence was happening.
When the first reports of deaths came on the screen, all of us sitting in the room were devastated. The first report said two deaths with many injured, but had no more information about who was responsible for the shootings. Unfortunatley it was not long before the second report came in with an updated totals on the number of deaths. Seven dead. Just as quickly the third report came with twenty-eight confirmed dead. I had a growing mixture of sadness, anger, and frustration as I watched the footage of injured and dead being tended to on the screen in front of me. It was hard to believe that this was all taking place right where I was and that I could continue to hear the, now waning, gunfrire from outside.
After some time, a large group of Subhi’s friends arrived from Change Square where they had just been. Although I never actually asked, I imagine they left because of the violence that had broken out and to get to safety. I found it fascinating to be sitting with men who had just been at the events now showing on the television in front of me. Around this time was also when my own personal spirits began to rise and I began to feel less of the depressed and sad state I had earlier felt. This was due partly to having more time to process the events, but also because Subhi helped me understand the events from the ‘bigger picture.’ Yes, the events unfolding were terrible and the mounting loss of life was a tragedy, but this is also a necessary, as well as regular, part of any revolution or change in government. Despite the loss of life, these ‘martyrs’ could perhaps help speed up the change in power that, at least to the men I was with, is good for the people of Yemen. Subhi even mentioned the much higher loss of life that occurred as a result of the Civil War in America.
Once my perspective and outlook had changed, I felt much better and did my best to keep up with the continuing updates and the conversations around me. This was much more difficult than normal, mostly because the vocabulary was so specific to the situation and not in my personal lexicon of Arabic. Despite this, I was able to even catch a few of the jokes that were told and felt much better to hear laughter from people, especially those who had just come from Change Square.
Soon after this another friend of Subhi’s showed up, this man also coming from Change Square, but in a much different capacity. He is a doctor and had been helping to provide medical attention to the injured and even had blood on his left ankle, I imagine coming from one of the wounded or perhaps dead. Though I could not keep up with the infromation he shared, Subhi told me what he had said. The gunmen had apparently been firing from the roof of a building owned by the governor of Mahweit Governate, which is near Sana’a to the north. Once this had been discovered by people from the opposition, they managed to make their way in the building and eventually forced the gunmen to flee, which then put an end to the violence. From the perspective of the opposition then, this was another victory and brought more smiles from the men I was with.
After this the shooting ceased for the day, though the final confirmed death total of forty did not. For the next hour or so, our group mostly watched coverage of an interview with a member of Pres. Saleh’s family who no longer supports his cousin. While this was on, there were also reports of a few government ministers who were abandoning the president’s party because of the day’s events. More victories in the opposition’s perspective. Sometime during this period of time, I began to hear an Arabic word, unknown to me at the time, said many times by my comrades. After asking what it meant I was told it was the Arabic word for suicide, in that the events of the day were turning out to be a political suicide for Mr. Saleh. This produced the most cheers from the room for the entire day.
Around this time I received a phone call from a Norwegian friend, Sven, who told me he was headed to another friend’s home, Brian, to hang out. Because of the realistic possibility that these friends could be evacuated at any time and I would not see them again, I left Subhi’s and headed towards Brian’s flat in The Old City.
As I walked out the door, however, I received a forwarded text from Brian that he had just received from his job with the IOM that stated the following: “EU Security reports: 30,000 protestors moving from univ. to face pro govt protestors in Tahrir sq. All roads in centre closed. Heavy military presence. Stay home and have run bags ready.” While I contemplated this text I was already walking on 26 September St., one of the more direct ways of getting from the univ. area to Tahrir. Although nothing like the warning was going on, and fortunately did not, I found myself very unsure of what to do. Staying in the area would mean being in the crossroads of this march, but walking to Brian’s would mean being away from home, also not a good option.
Before I made my mind up about what to do, I was walking in The Old City and had already passed through the heavily secured Tahrir Square. Though as a foreigner I could get in more easily, it was by far the most guarded I have yet seen Tahrir. Just as I was about to Brian’s place, I finally decided it would be in my best intersts to just go home and stay put. I then literally turned around and started walking for home, stopping to buy some food on the way but otherwise not wasting any time.
Fortunately the message about the protestors moving from Change Square to Tahrir Square did not come true, but the thought of it was enough to make the rest of my evening fraught with anxiety and worry about all the different scenarios that could play out. Unfortunately, as I finish this writing, three days later, things have continued to heat up in what now seems like an inevitable and unavoidable deparutre by Saleh. Inshallah this change will be peaceful and life will resume its normal grind again. Only time shall tell.........
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