My Observations on Aden

• The sixth port in the world.
• 60% of the inhabitants prey to malignant diseases.
• The most dangerous of their nervous ailments: their addiction to chewing "qat."
• The princesses of Aden never leave the palace after the tenth year of their age.

Aden is a famous natural port lying in the south of the Arabian Peninsula; measured by the number of steamers that enter it, it ranks sixth in the world and second in the British Commonwealth (for politically it belongs to the British Kingdom). The Aden Protectorate is made up of the port (Ma'alla), with its two quarters, old and new; then Aden (Crater), which is the capital and seat of government; a small village called Sheikh Othman; and finally (Little Aden), which was built recently, orderly engineering methods having been observed in its construction; it contains an oil refinery, around which stand the houses of the company's families and employees.

Though Aden is one of the Arab lands, it is inhabited by numerous colonies — English, Indians, Italians, Somalis, Persians... and Jews, and others besides. But it is truly regrettable that among these communities, looking only at the man in the street, we find the Arab less clean than the others and weaker in health — I do not say less learned, for my information on that subject is not precise. I learned from a nurse that more than 60% of the inhabitants are ill with several malignant diseases, such as tuberculosis and chronic dysentery. In truth I believe that their greatest disease is the chewing of qat (which is a narcotic). The strange thing is that the government in Aden brings it to them weekly by airplane from Abyssinia and certain other regions of Africa. There is a special department with employees who sell it to the inhabitants, who await it with burning impatience. The government draws a large material profit from this business. Among the sights at once comic and sad is that of the convoys of motorcars carrying the addicts to and from the qat office as they sing, dance, and cheer. The Adeni usually begins chewing qat after midday and continues into the late evening. One of qat's effects is to keep the chewer from sleep, so that morning finds him worn out, unfit for work. A laborer may work for eight shillings a day (that is, about three and a half Lebanese lira), of which he pays five for qat, and the rest goes to keep body and soul together for himself and his family and to secure food, clothing, lodging, and the other needs of life. And how wretched a life it is.

There is another nervous ailment which anyone living in Aden observes: the terror and panic of the townsfolk at a sudden report, an unexpected shock, or even the mere mention of the word hanash (snake); no sooner is the word uttered before one of them than he flees in terror and alarm. The Adeni is known for blind imitation without comprehension. I recall the story of a Syrian who wanted to test one of them — or rather to joke with a workman who had just drawn his pay. He brought a sheet of paper, stood before him, and began tearing it up, saying: "I tore it up!" Whereupon the simple workman began tearing up the banknotes he had drawn, repeating "I tore it up!" Another incident: a servant was carrying the coffee tray, and there were more than ten persons in the room; one of them wished to joke with him and said, "I threw it" — and without thinking the servant threw the coffee tray, the cups flew into the air, and the sight was comic in the extreme!

As ill luck would have it, chance did not allow me to become acquainted with any Adeni women except a very few princesses who live in the palace and never go outside it once one of them has reached the age of ten. If they grow restless and insist on going out, it is toward midnight, in a curtained motorcar that takes them to the sea and brings them back. Even so, they are not entirely cut off from the outside world, for every possible kind of amusement is brought to the palace — cinema films and games. Women teachers, moreover, come to the palace to instruct them in certain languages, in arithmetic, and in rhythmic and Scottish dancing.

In Aden the custom of incense is widespread; men and women use it alike, especially the Indians, in place of the bath and to cover the smell of perspiration. The ladies also take care to carry a little bag, made specially for the purpose and kept inside the lady's handbag, containing cloves; the lady begins chewing them the moment she goes out visiting, the object being to conceal the odor of the mouth.

The language of the country is Arabic, but there it is stuffed with foreign words — English, Indian, and Persian. Examples: "roti" instead of bread; "mez," meaning table; "shola," meaning a kerosene stove; "glass," meaning a drinking glass. And some words carry a meaning other than the one we know: instead of the word "I want" they say "I desire." One of the servants made me laugh once when he came to me saying: "The khawaja desires you!"

These are observations of Aden which stamp themselves on the imagination of everyone who lives in that far-off land.

Yet the great truth which these pictures cannot efface is that the country is full of possibilities — geographic and strategic and natural — and that there is no way to turn these possibilities to account except by spreading and generalizing culture among the Arabs of those parts and by handing over the country's political and financial destinies to them little by little. Aden cannot return to the flourishing state it knew when it was called (the Garden of Eden) except by opening the doors of culture to all its citizens and by dispelling the psychological fear, the bad habits, and the addiction. And it is among the good omens that we see the alertness and national consciousness which has lately spread among the citizens of Aden, as they have called on one another to unite and to demand recognition of their rights as a people entitled to determine its own destiny for itself.