My dad suggested that as a member of the Bohra community, I should go to Yemen and visit the community's prominent places in the region. 'Yes, of course!' I burst out. I had always wanted to go to this country which had remained a mystery to me, whose people, in my mind, were all warriors, ate raw flesh and drove their four-wheelers ruthlessly.
Karachi to Dubai – the first leg of the flight – was fun as usual, with fellow Pakistanis going back to work or those that were on holiday. From Dubai to Sanaa though, I had no clue who I would end up sitting beside.
As it turned out, it was a family of three; two brothers and their father. They were coming from America to visit their family back in Haraaz.
The father and I started talking about Game of Thrones and instantly hit it off. He spoke such fluent English that I almost forgot he was a Yemeni. I started asking him questions about his country and he unabashedly claimed visiting Yemen would be the best experience I would ever have.
'This country of mine is insane, the people are mad but full of love.'
I had no idea what he meant. He then started sharing stories about all his summer visits to his village:
'My village is my heaven, everyone there knows me well and waits for my arrival ... we eat kaath (a leaf with narcotic effects), we eat entire goats at once, we laugh at the lamest jokes ... America can never be my home, Yemen is where my heart is.'
During the conversation, he uttered not a single negative word about the place. I was truly in awe and couldn't wait to land and find out for myself.
As we landed, I saw the small runway filled with army planes; it was like entering a war zone. I gulped and entered the airport, which was really more like a terrible bus station – no air-conditioning, the sewerage pipes leaking, the airport officials staring at you like you were the most wanted murderer in town.
I was scared, so scared that I couldn't even find my voice to reply to the airport official's inquiry about my arrival details. But eventually, despite the harsh airport procedures, I got my luggage in an hour and went off to a Bohra musafir-khaana pre-booked by my father.
As I stepped out of that airport, a strong gust of wind hit my face. The wind was cold and full of sand — like getting my first taste of Yemen, literally.
Our taxi was a very old model of Toyota. The driver smiled and said 'welcome' in Arabic.
 |
Yemni Swag. |
The airport was pretty far from the main city. And because it was a Sunday, everything was closed; no traffic, no people, but I started taking in whatever little I could see on the roads.
The entire city had a very rugged feel to it. Everything was brown and beige. There were stone houses, big roads, three-storied buildings. At first glance, it appeared to be a dull city but it was hard not to miss its character.
The food in Yemen, on the whole, was healthy Arabic cuisine, generally consisting of the meat of sheep and goats slowly roasted with garlic; delicious and gooey. Bread was a staple food. Also, I recall the fruits to be a whole lot juicier than they are back home in Pakistan. All in all, the food was simple but enriched with superb flavour.
Sanaa the capital
The Bohra community guesthouse was almost like a five-star hotel. On my first day, I decided to visit old Sanaa, and that's when I was completely blown away.
It was noon time on a Monday and the scene before me was something straight out of a Khaled Hosseini book – the bazaar, the scent of ittar and bukhar, the sounds of the children playing in the streets, the voices of women bargaining for cheaper prices ... I was spellbound as I attempted to take it all in.
 |
Old Sanaa. |
 |
Men eating Kaath on a working day; a typical sight on the streets of Sanaa. |
 |
Local art graffiti on the streets of Sanaa. |
I then went to see the old mosques of Imam Ali. The architecture of old Sanaa and of Yemen, in general, is the most fascinating thing about this country.
The buildings are made of stone, with frosted glass windows that have traditional Yemeni designs painted on them. It was magical. I couldn't stop photographing all these buildings that seemed to take me back in time.
 |
Ancient architecture in old Sanaa. |
 |
The streets of Yemen before dawn. |
The people of Yemen
In their traditional Yemeni attire, looking at these people is almost like watching a theatrical play with the old city as a backdrop.
They had fair skin tones and curly hair, almost all the men had a beard or a light stubble. The women wore black, brown and grey burqas, enhancing the 'stage set' wonderfully. Talking to the women there is a big no-no! Still, Yemeni women are without a doubt the most beautiful lot.
 |
A Yemeni child outside his school. |
The kids were naughty, loud and busy playing football, a few had toy guns. The men (and sometimes even teenagers) were found with a mouthful of kaath, sold in shopping bags.
 |
Yemeni children. |
 |
Moazzan. |
Al Hutaib — Haraz mountains
Up next on the itinerary was a place called Hutaib on the mountains of Haraaz.
The journey from Sanaa was rough because of the roads. Seeing almost every other man holding a gun, grenade or an AK-47 in their hands was by now a visual I had grown quite used to.
 |
Children sell Kaath on the highways. |
It was evening when we arrived and Hutaib was love at first sight for me.
A beautiful mausoleum and the most enchanting mosque I had ever seen. Here, I was living on a camp site, sleeping on a bunker bed, eating pancakes, having bonfires, forgetting that I was in Yemen and not some top-notch tourist resort.
The next morning we went to the mosque that everyone was quite keen on exploring.
 |
Mosque Mansur-ul-yemen is on one of the highest mountain peaks in Yemen. |
 |
Inside Majid Ali. |
The mosque was built on the edge of a mountain; all in beautiful marble, with emerald-coloured carpets, exquisite woodwork engravings – it was nothing less than a royal palace.
Masjid Mansoor-ul-Yemen
In the evening, we went on a trek with one of the managers of the Bohra guesthouse in Hutaib. He was a pro at this and we were so bad that the experience ended up being sort of incredible. At one occasion, I almost fell off a steep slope and had accepted that this was how I was going to die – in Yemen, from a mountain cliff. But, I lived on to have a scrumptious meat BBQ dinner later that night.
Hutaib was like a postcard from heaven, with mountains enveloping the mausoleum and mosque, and gardens so lush they were straight out of a dream sequence. It rained everyday.
Zi Jibla
Our next destination was a city ruled by a princess, whose castle sat on the top of a mountain. Beautiful beyond words, it was one of the biggest castles I had seen, with rivers around it as if they were guarding its honour.
 |
Zi Jibla Bazaar. |
I came back to Yemen after visiting four cities and thought of going back to old Sanaa, my favourite place so far.
This time, I was more comfortable. I knew how the place and its people worked, so I was careful with what I did or said.
 |
The entrance gates of old Sanaa. |
 |
A residential building in old Sanaa. |
In their traditional clothes, I felt completely like a Yemeni, a free spirit roaming the streets amidst the Azaan-filled air, praying in those historical mosques, eating with the locals, having kahva coffee, talking in Urdu, while they talked back in Arabic.
I returned to Pakistan in utterly love with Yemen.
 |
Mehlum S. Sadriwala travels around the world with his camera trying to capture visual stories.
Find out more about him on his Facebook, Instagram and Tumblr.