Going to miss Yemen dispite getting sick

I have got my passport back, I have my business via and I'm going to return to Ethiopia tomorrow. There was a stressful few days when my passport totally disappeared off the Internet tracking, and no one was answering the number I had been given to call.

It's taken a long time to adjust to the hours here, even though Yemen is on the same time zone as Ethiopia during Ramadan everything works differently. Shops open 1-2pm, they close again at 5 to break their fast (Muslim fasting is not eating or drinking anything from sunrise to sunset for a full luna month, Ethiopian Orthodox fasting is not eating any meat or animal products on Wednesdays and Fridays) and to pray. Shops re-open at 8pm and sat open till 1am. I finally adjusted to going to sleep around 3am and getting up after midday.

I got food poisoning which meant I lost 2 days to illness. I think that it is rather ridiculous that I spend a full year in Africa without any serious sicknesses, then once I come to the beautiful Gulf with it's respect for hygiene practices, and hot dry conditions that bacteria can't thrive in... I get taken down by the first bad samosa that passes my lips. This is the third time I have got food poisoning while travelling, the first time was in London (cold chicken kebab from a corner store) I was convinced that I had the black death. The second time I was in China (bad, half cooked egg with breakfast) I was convinced that I had Ebola virus and Sarrs. This time I pretty much knew what was happening.

I had met some other guests in the hotel and lent them my army knife (which has a cork screw on it... cork screws being rare as rocking horse poo in Yemen) so while sick I left a note in the hall for them to bring me water and re-hydration salts, which they thankfully did. I'm fine now. It was hell while it lasted, but it left as fast as it came.

Now I have a cold sore, the second in my life (the first I got in India, when I thought it was a grievous infection that was going to consume my whole face). The tingle tells you when it's time... except when you don't know what the tingle is all about. Fortunately people in pharmacies always speak the international language of medicine. But this international language is not sweet and soft like asking for "cold sore cream" no, I had to ask for "herpes simplex medication" for the to understand what I needed.

I have met some really lovely people here in the ex-pat community. I have attended a couple of lovely parties and had a great time. A Yugoslavian-American journalist here lent me her copy of the last Harry Potter which kept me happy for a few days. It's so nice to know what happens in the end. I have even have a coffee date tonight with a Egyptian computer programmer, ain't no stupid cold sore going to get me down.

I'm really sad to leave the Middle East. I love it here. it's beautiful and exotic and sexy. I didn't think I would like it that much because it is not wild and free, and suddenly my second X chromosome comes with a new set of rules and limitations. But for some reason I just like it. I'll be back.

The guy on the left doesn't have a goiter, he's chewing qat, the local narcotic, in Ethiopia it's called chat.