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Yemenat
05-07-2025
- Politics
- Yemenat
My Diary in America: With the Mayor of New York City
I received a brief text message from businessman Omar Al-Saadi, informing me that he would take me along with Dr. Tariq Al-Amary. He didn't tell me where we were going, but he insisted that I be ready by five in the afternoon. We waited for him at the appointed time. We traveled from Brooklyn to Yonkers, to the home of his lawyer. We knocked on the door, and a woman warmly welcomed us. Her husband then appeared from inside. In this context, the woman holds a status and importance that many Eastern societies do not recognize. I felt that this was not mere coincidence, but rather a reflection of politeness and social customs prevalent in America, or so I assumed. Her reception reminded me of the 1980s when I visited Ramah area in Hadhramaut, where we were guests in some local homes. The women there welcomed us according to their traditions. In that region, it is the wife who takes charge of hospitality, while the husband may leave the matters of hosting to her, adhering to strict social norms that dictate the guest's behavior. Their women are beautiful, equally known for their modesty and purity. The features of the lawyer's wife appeared American to me, although I was informed that her husband is Christian of Levantine descent. Their home and its surroundings sparkled with beauty, blending luxury and elegance with captivating details that caught the eye from the grandest elements to the finest specifics. We approached a table with a pen and a form to register the donor's name and the amount contributed for the mayor's re-election campaign. I had no idea this was a donation event. The only cash I had on me was a single fifty-dollar bill, which was neither suitable for donation nor divisible in a moment of confusion. Omar Al-Saadi saved me by saying, 'Register two thousand dollars, and I'll cover it for him.' The lawyer intervened, insisting that it should be specifically for me. From what I gathered, the lawyer's objection was based on American law, which prohibits such donations since I do not hold U.S. citizenship. I then saw Al-Saadi writing a check for himself and Dr. Sadiq Al-Amary. The amount indicated on the check reflected the generous and lavish contributions of Yemenis with American citizenship at events like this. * * * We descended to the courtyard of the mansion, which overlooked a lush garden considered part of its extensions. There, I found Yemeni businessmen holding American citizenship, and a hall filled with sweets, fruits, and breakfast items. In the lounge near the hall, there were various types of whiskey that rivaled the one once claimed to be present in Judge Qotran's home. From a distance, I noticed glasses filled with ice and bottles of cold water, creating an atmosphere where no one questioned where I came from. I was thirsty due to the intense heat we were experiencing in the peak of summer. I didn't dare go to grab a bottle of water, as the cartons of water bottles were next to the luxury whiskey bottles. So, I asked the driver of one of the Yemeni businessmen to fetch me a bottle of water, hoping the others wouldn't misinterpret it as I prepared for al Maghrib prayer. He went and returned with a bottle of water, and when I asked for his name, he apologized. His apology puzzled me, but it didn't stop me from suppressing a quiet laugh to avoid drawing attention from those present. I saw a man descending the stairs amidst his admirers—a tall, slender Black man. The attendees below stood up for him, though I didn't know who he was. I sensed he was an important figure, the hero and star of this celebration. As he came down the stairs, I rose from my seat in surprise when I heard the lawyer tell him that there was a Yemeni parliament member present. I noticed his elegant smile, revealing a light spirit and bright white teeth. I asked those around me about this man, and they replied, 'The Mayor of New York City.' I was pleased to know that the mayor was a Black man. I approached him to take a selfie, something I rarely do with others. He welcomed me warmly, drawing me close. He spoke to us with great humility. He delivered a speech, although I didn't understand what he said due to the lack of a translator. Nevertheless, the meeting was enjoyable; the mayor was humble, and I added vibrant new connections to my understanding of America and its democracy.
Yemenat
05-07-2025
- Yemenat
From My Diaries in America: A Fish Out of Water
Omar Al-Saadi arrived at the agreed-upon meeting spot, parking his white Lexus nearby. He stepped out of his imposing vehicle with a stylish wheeled bag in tow, approaching me while pulling it along. In contrast, my black duffel bag was damp and strapped tightly to my back with two shoulder belts, resembling a mischievous child in elementary school. He greeted me with a broad smile and a friendly spirit, calling me my dear. We shook hands warmly and headed toward the station, then the train platform, waiting for the train. During our movements, he asked questions and engaged actively, transitioning from one topic to another, while I helped him pull his bag after some hesitation and resistance on his part. I began to feel a certain fondness for him in a relationship that was still under trial. I appreciate relationships that are free from complexity, pretense, and formality. As soon as I took over pulling his bag, I felt a greater sense of freedom, liberated from the constraints of etiquette that restrict intimacy and hinder the discovery of others. We boarded the train and searched for our reserved seats in first class. The seats were plush, and the tables elegant. Everything here seemed harmonious and comfortable. He preferred my company and seated me by the window, then moved to another seat and table after a few minutes, especially since there was plenty of space available. The empty seats outnumbered those occupied. On the train, I wrestled with sleep that sometimes washed over me gently, and at other times hit me like a tidal wave. I tried my best not to miss the stunning views and beautiful nature through which the train was passing. Whenever the train entered a tunnel, my eyelids would droop, and I would succumb to a delicious sleep, only to awaken once we emerged without preventing the ongoing battle against sleep until I returned to enjoy the beauty of nature and the details of life that I was gliding past. We arrived at the Washington station. I was surprised to find ourselves in a queue, first one, then the next waiting for a taxi. We moved to the hotel to drop off our luggage, then directly to the conference hall. We raced against time, arriving fifteen minutes late due to transportation issues and a mistake in finding the correct address. Upon entering the conference hall, Holda rose from her seat near the entrance. She welcomed us with the smile of a child, her face radiant and bright. She greeted us softly and handed each of us a bag containing some conference documents, related brochures, a ballpoint pen, and a notebook. * * * In the conference hall, we were supposed to listen to the speakers, but I had no idea what they were saying! There was no translator or headsets providing Arabic translations as is common in many places. Everyone at the conference was silent except for the speakers, all of whom were speaking in English. My accompanying translator, who was sitting next to me, tried to whisper brief answers to my questions in a low voice to avoid causing any disturbance or distracting the attendees. I strained to hear but to no avail. I felt the need for another translator who could listen to me and explain what was being said. I needed a tool or means to eavesdrop more effectively. Speakers would come and go, and I had no clue what they were discussing! I felt like a fish out of water. To escape the monotony of this heavy situation, I resorted to a translation app on my phone, trying to grasp some of what the speakers were saying. My appearance in my seat, trying to comprehend, was nothing short of amusing, perhaps even funny at times. I felt that the lack of the local language was like swimming in confusion, amplifying my sense of alienation. I managed to understand bits and pieces here and there. My head felt like a chaotic jumble grains of barley, corn, millet, and whatever else came my way. A little from this, a little from that, and a little on top of a little adds up. I picked up a word here and a phrase there, and through individual effort using the translation app, I slowly pieced together what I could. After the first session, finding my companion within the conference became a challenge, sometimes requiring a prize to locate him. He was like a small ball of mercury slipping away between my fingers. I would spot him here, only to lose sight of him again despite his tall stature, large head, broad baldness, and prominent forehead. I would see him on the first floor, then after searching, find him on another floor or perhaps in another hall, busy with his many calls. My experience with him, after some time and forgetfulness, reminded me of my childhood when I used to play hide and seek with my friends.
