In a previous post, I commented on a 1925 National Geographic Magazine article by Major F. A. C. Forbes-Leith. In his journey from London to Quetta, the major passed through Iraq and met some of the famous silver makers from Amara.
Daniel Martin Varisco
In a previous post, I commented on a 1925 National Geographic Magazine article by Major F. A. C. Forbes-Leith. In his journey from London to Quetta, the major passed through Iran and had a close shave, or at least saw one, as noted above.
Daniel Martin Varisco
Outside a café: Biskra
A century brings change, yet memories of the past can still bring life to a quickly forgotten past. Exactly one hundred years ago, if you were to visit your doctor and pick up the latest issue of National Geographic Magazine, you would find a story about Biskra, the oasis in Algeria. Pre-Valentino’s The Sheik, this is rather pedestrian travel dialogue from an author who survives in the text only as a Mrs. But the pictures are truly marvelous and make returning to this century-old magazine well worthwhile. Webshaykh
A visit to the market place during the morning is one of the sights of the town and oriental in every tone. Squatting groups and bronzed-legged Bedouins, in brown and white camel’s-hair burnouses, are selling cous-cous, dried peppers, and of course dates. Bunches of fresh grass and green barley and thistles are heaped in one corner of the inclosure, Moorish slippers here and a pile of red fezzes there, and souvenirs for the tourist not lacking. For fifty centimes one may purchase a set of graceful gazelle horns, and curious knives and Arabian guns tempt the collector on the way. An ebon negress is selling oranges, an Arab boy in a red fez, and not much else, carries a basket of purple fruit in green leaves, while cloaks, burnouses, turbans, and yakmahs, purple, blue, deep red, and spotless white all crushed together, make a kaleidoscopic color in the whitewashed square. Bags of henna leaves, for staining the nails in Arab fashion, send forth their pungent odor, and the aroma of coffee and cigarettes fills the air. A Kabyle girl in red gown, tattooed bluely as to her forehead and cheeks, stained yellow as to her finger tips, passes us, cigarette in mouth, her bangles and anklets clanking as she goes. Continue reading A Century Ago in Biskra
In 1924 Major F. A. C. Forbes-Leith decided to drive a “motor-car” from London to India, a journey that took almost half a year to traverse ten countries. Overall, a total of 8,527 miles were covered, with 3,000 of them devoid of road or track and 1,500 over desert, not to mention detouring around 150 broken bridges. This was three years before Lindy flew from Mitchell Field (next to the university I currently teach at) to France. The rationale for a ridiculously long auto adventure? That was simple: no one had done it before. As Major Forbes-Leith puts it, “Airplanes had already flown to India on several occasions, airships for a regular mail service were in the course of construction, even one of the submarines of the Royal Navy was on its way, but as yet no effort had been made to bridge the distance by mechanical transport.”
Attempting such an adventure at the time no doubt took a sense of humor. In this case the auto was labeled “Felix” after the cartoon character Felix the Cat. Continue reading Have Felix, will travel
[The following is Najwa Adra’s review of two books by anthropologist Steven C. Caton, who conducted ethnographic fieldwork in Yemen in 1979-1981. It was first published in Yemen Update, #48 (2006):46-50.]
“Peaks of Yemen I Summonâ€: Poetry as Cultural Practice in a North Yemeni Tribe, by Steven C. Caton
Berkeley, University of California Press, 1990
ISBN # 0-520-06766-5
351 pp., illus., maps, hardcover
Yemen Chronicle: An Anthropology of War and Mediation, by Steven C. Caton
New York, Hill and Wang, 2005
ISBN-13: 978-0-8090
341 pp., maps, no illus., hardcover (also available in paper)
Reviewed by Najwa Adra
“Peaks of Yemen I Summonâ€: Poetry as Cultural Practice in a North Yemeni Tribe and Yemen Chronicle: An Anthropology of War and Mediation, published 15 years apart, should be read as two complementary parts of a whole. They document Steven Caton’s field research on tribal poetry in Khawlan at-Tiyal in 1979-81. Together, these books are important contributions to theory in anthropology, the ethnography of Yemen, and perhaps literary theory and political science as well. The first book is a technical discussion of tribal poetry as cultural practice; the second is a personal, reflexive description of the author’s experiences in the field. It provides rich contextual data that shed light on, and help support, the author’s argument in the first book. Continue reading Peaks of Yemeni poetry he summons
There is an old saying, renewed whenever we reflect on contemporary politics: the more things change, the more they remain the same. A little over a millennium ago, the widely traveled scholar Shams al-Din Abu ‘Abd Allah Muhammad al-Muqaddasi wrote a geographical compendium of the world. He is as opinionated as any op-ed columnist, but also an astute observer of the foibles of his own time. So how did al-Muqaddasi, who had traversed much of the known Islamic world in his time, view Iraq? Here is his assessment; c’est la vie!
This is the region of men of refinement, the fountainhead of scholars. The water is delightful, the air marvelous; it is the chosen place of the khalifs. It produced Abu Hanifa, the jurist of jurisprudents; and Sufyan, the best of the Quranic Readers. From here came Abu ‘Ubayda, and al-Farra‘, and Abu ‘Amr, author of a system of Quranic reading. It is the birthplace of Hamza, and al-Kisa’i: of virtually every jurist, Reader, and litterateur; of notables, sages, thinkers, ascetics, distinguished people; of charming and quick-witted people. Here is the birthplace of Abraham, the Compansion of God, thither journeyed many noble Companions of the prophet. Is not al-Basra there, which can be compared to the entire world? and Baghdad, praised by all mankind? sublime al-Kufa and Samarra? Its river most certainly is of Paradise; and the dates of al-Basra cannot be forgotten. Its excellences are many and beyond count. The Sea of China touches its furthermost extremity, and the desert stretches along the edge of it, as you see. The Euphrates debouches within its limits.
Yet it is the home of dissension and high prices, every day it retrogresses; from injustice and taxes there is trouble, and distress. Its fruits are few, its vices many, and the oppression of the people is heavy.
[Excerpt from al-Muqaddasī, The Best Divisions for Knowledge of the Regions. Translated by Professor Basil Collins. Reading: Garnet Publishing, 2001.]
Tarlabasi, 2004, by Gamze Olgun, Oil Painting.
by Jenny White
Kamil Pasha Blog
Posted on January 24th, 2008
Tarlabasi is a district on the backside of the Beyoglu hill falling from the crest at Pera – where all the foreign embassies were in Ottoman times, now demoted to consulates – down in the direction of the Golden Horn. In The Abyssinian Proof, Kamil chases a wily criminal to his lair in Tarlabasi. The district is picturesque in the way of crumbling majesty on its last legs (a large part of Tarlabasi will be razed in 6 months, probably replaced by hotels). The steep, narrow lanes are strung with laundry, bustling with locals shopping at an outdoor market crammed into one of the lower streets. At the top of the hill near Istiklal Bouelvard are some lovely stone houses, now ruined or so shabby as to be nearly uninhabitable. A large stone house cracked down the side like an egg is posted for sale. As you walk down the hill, the houses become smaller, shabbier, sometimes outright ruins, less stone and more wood. In Ottoman times, Catholics and Greek Christians (Rum) lived near the top — shop owners, employees of the embassies — and poorer families near the bottom. Taylor Pepo’s apprentice lived in Tarlabasi with his family (The Abyssinian Proof). Today Tarlabasi is inhabited by Roma (gypsy), Kurds, the very poor, and social outcasts of various kinds. Continue reading Strolling Through Tarlabasi
The Café in the Place Halfaouine.
In an earlier post I provided the Orientalist musings of Ms. Norma Octavia Lorimer, whose By the Waters of Carthage (1925) is classic put-down travel mongrelism. If you thought the first part was bad, read on below…
“OH, MY DEAR!
Come and take me to the desert; it lies over there, in the great Beyond, like Death — waiting — waiting — waiting.
I have seen camels in their proper atmosphere, lading their common everyday life of indifference, though so far, I must admit, I have not seen them trying to get through the eye of a needle. These strange supercilious leavings of the prehistoric past are almost as scornful of mankind as new-born babies. A Horse looks as foolishly modern besides a camel as an Englishman in his blue serge suit looks beside a burnoused and biblical Moslem…
I have been in the souks (bazaars), and it is true that there above all places you can hear the East ‘a-calling’; it is there that you forget that Tunis is under French protection and it has fine boulevards and theatres and a Petit Lourve, for all that is on the other side of the horseshoe gate (the porte de France, as it is called), and my hotel is within in. It is in the bazaars before midday that you get a glimpse of how the people live, for the pulse of the city is there, if an Arab city has a pulse. Continue reading Norma’s Take on Carthage: Part Two