THE FLOWER OF PARADISE" 



The Part Which Khat Plays in the Life of the Yemen Arab 



By Charles Moser 



Formerly American Consul, Aden, Arabia 



IT WAS a hot Sunday morning and 

 our tikka gharry dragged itself up the 

 old Aden road that comes out at the 

 crater pass like a fly on three legs. The 

 road was speckled with natives in bright 

 clothes, humming with excitement. What 

 it was all about we could not discover. 

 Presently Ali Yusuf came trotting by on 

 his little roan ass, brave in a new purple 

 coat with gilt trimmings, his lean shanks 

 dangling so low that his heels scraped the 

 dust. "Ali Yusuf, what means this ?" we 

 cried. "Has not Ramazan passed and 

 Mohorrum not yet come ?" 



Ali Yusuf salaamed gravely. "Sahib, 

 it is the marriage." 



"What marriage?" 



"Of Zeila, daughter of old Bhori, the 

 tin-seller in the bazaar, to Abdul Khan, 

 whose father is jemidar of chaprassies at 

 the hurra bungalow." 



"But why are the people here, where 

 there is no bridegroom and no makhdara 

 (wedding pavilion) for their entertain- 

 ment?" 



Ali Yusuf pitied our ignorance. "Sa- 

 hib," he spoke gently, "it is the poor re- 

 lations, and they wait for the poor man's 

 happiness." 



At that moment shrill yells burst out 

 from the pass above us and, looking up. 

 we saw a crowd of boys racing toward 

 the town. As they ran they shouted, "Al 

 khat aja!" (The khat has come), and the 

 people on the road broke into a joyous 

 tumult. Then the tunk-a-lunk of a tom- 

 tom in the house of the bridegroom took 

 up the tidings and beat out its summons 

 to the wedding guests. 



As we crawled over the crater's lip, 

 under the frowning archway of the pass, 

 we came upon the khat-bearing camel en- 

 compassed about by a cloud of witnesses, 

 dancing. Swathed around his belly and 

 over his load of dripping green herbs was 

 a glorious silken cloth, blazing with silver 



and gold and hung with jasmine sprays; 

 and though tom-toms thumped and fifes 

 squealed out a furious music all about 

 him, the solemn beast bore his burden as 

 if it were some majesty of state. So 

 passed the blessed khat, the poor man's 

 happiness, the strength of the weak, the 

 inspiration of the mean-spirited, to its 

 place at the marriage feast. 



SCIENCE KNOWS LITTLE ABOUT KHAT 



The world knows almost nothing about 

 khat. Our scientific books are nearly 

 silent on the subject. Travelers who 

 ought to have observed its uses write 

 from hearsay and usually with the most 

 amazing ignorance. There are even Eu- 

 ropeans in the Yemen, whose servants 

 have chewed khat every day of their 

 lives, with so little knowledge of native 

 life and customs that after years of resi- 

 dence they ask, "Why, what is khat ? We 

 never heard of it." Yet no Yemen event 

 is complete without its presence, and no 

 Yemen Arab — man, woman, or child — 

 passes a day if he can help it without the 

 aid of at least a few leaves of the precious 

 khat. 



When the European is weary he calls 

 for alcohol to revive him ; when he is 

 joyful he takes wine, that he may have 

 more joy. In like manner the Chinese 

 woos his "white lady," the poppy flower, 

 the Indian chews bhang, and the West 

 African seeks surcease in kola. Khat is 

 more to the Yemen Arab than any of 

 these to its devotees. It is no narcotic, 

 wooing sleep, but a stimulant, like alco- 

 hol. Unlike alcohol, it conceals no demon, 

 but a fairy. The khat eater will tell you 

 that when he follows this fairy it takes 

 him into regions overlooking paradise. He 

 calls the plant the "flower of paradise." 



How and when khat came into the 

 Yemen is not certain. Botanists say that 

 it was brought over from Harrar, in 



i73 



