Of Braille and Independence: Teaching English in Yemen
I remember sitting at the kitchen table of a high-rise apartment overlooking the congested city streets of Cairo, while engaging in our usual evening conversations over a cup of hot Egyptian tea.
Ibrahim, a close friend, spoke of his country, Yemen, showing me lovely pictures of his homeland, its unique culture, and his family. “Carla, I want you to visit that corner of the world.” The idea seemed amazing, but impossible due to the constant travel warnings one would hear concerning Americans in the Middle East.
Two years later and I found myself breaking the fast with a sip of water and a few dates as we listened to the call to prayer in Sana’a, the capital city of Yemen, “Allah AL Akbar, and Allah AL Akbar…” I sat on the floor with awe, as I awaited the sunset and would soon delight in my first meal at Ibrahim’s home. Here, in this remote region of the world, I accepted a volunteer position teaching a group of blind university students English, as well as delivering workshops on job readiness.
“The blind can see more than the sighted; they are not corrupted by the sighted world. We, as Muslims and followers of the Holy Koran, know this,” a participant stated during a presentation I gave regarding blindness. The words, although powerful, seemed contradicting. Culturally, Yemen society treats their blind as though they are to be served on hands and feet, more so are females.
Engaging in conversations concerning blindness with my students proved quite challenging. “Teacher Carla, why do we have to talk about Braille and independence?” a student asked. “Ma Shah Allah! You are amazing, but we could never be like you.”
Thinking about how I could go about changing this attitude, of living without the fear of being blind, ran through my mind everyday on my drive home. Of course, I would have to be sensitive to Yemen culture and its tightly rooted views. I knew it would take more than my six-month stay, and with that, although not at ease, I tried new strategies each and every day.
As a blind female in Yemen, I felt accepted, covering myself from head to toe outside my home. For me, it represented a symbol of respect towards the culture, as well as a way to fully experience being female in a predominantly male society. Although, not the norm, if I needed to go out after sunset and Ibrahim was unable to accompany me, I took the chance and went alone, making my way through crowded streets. If lost, I approached any local for directions and occasionally engaged in friendly conversations if they allowed. My approach was strange for some, but admired by others.
I walked through the dark alleys of the old city with my cane in one hand and my head up high to convey a sense of confidence and self-reliance among the blind. I wanted them to realize their potential by raising awareness about blindness in the sighted world.
The most daring venture I took alone was on a five-day trip to Socotra Island, located between the Arabian Sea and the Indian Ocean.
As Eid, a religious holiday was coming to an end, I planned a trip down to the south with Ibrahim’s cousin, but the plans seemed less likely to happen. “Carla, why don’t you go to Socotra? You may want to take this opportunity to explore an unknown part of Yemen,” Ibrahim said one evening over a cup of tea. The thought of being on an island excited me, but the unknown of where I would stay or how I would navigate around a place that has been described as the “Galapagos of the Indian Ocean” left me to question my decision. Not only this, but I was in Yemen, a predominantly Muslim country where women would not dare to go anywhere alone. Furthermore, the unstable political climate was not very promising. In spite of all this, after three months of volunteering, a vacation sounded ideal.
“Ibrahim, what should I do? Should I go at all?” I spent hours researching the exotic island and the more I read about it, the more excited I became.
“Carla, just go for it. It is safe. Let’s buy your ticket,” he said.
After two days, I found myself face-face with the travel agent. “We have one seat left. Would you like to buy it?” the travel agent said. Thoughts of uncertainty went back and forth in my head and with both excitement and the jitter, I finally handed in my passport and cash.
On Socotra Island I would spend the early part of the day hiking through the semi-arid terrain while exploring the indigenous fauna and plant life. Swimming throughout the afternoon and eating fresh-cooked fish were my daily activities. My dark skin and Arabic language skills allowed me to engage in the most amazing conversations with males, the only gender I encountered. Sleeping on the cool sandy beach under the star-studded sky every night would bring about a calm and union with something far greater than I.
Ramadan is here again, and although I am not there celebrating it with Yemenis, I feel so embedded in the culture. Although oceans away, I am still fasting for the sake of experiencing starvation, giving to those in need whether it be food or service, and becoming closer to God. The experience proved to be life-changing. Whether it was sitting under the moonlight enjoying a cup of tea with a Socotra and conversing about life on the island and its simplicity, or driving home from class speaking to my friend about Yemen culture, I would say that every encounter was a building block towards an ever-lasting broadening learning process.
Carla Valpeoz was born in San Antonio, Texas. She was diagnosed with being legally blind at the age of seven while living in Mexico when she entered school for the first time. Her first overseas experience to France sparked her interest in traveling. She has studied abroad in Tunisia, Spain, and Egypt while enrolled in an undergraduate program at Texas Tech University.
Carla recently graduated with a Master’s in Social Justice and Conflict Transformation at the SIT Graduate Institute. Her six-month practicum for graduate school took her to Yemen, where she volunteered to teach English, delivered work-related workshops at a Women’s organization, and designed and implemented projects for the Orphan’s department at Islamic Relief Yemen. Carla will work for Mary House as a refugee and immigrant advocate in Washington DC, before she begins to look for work abroad again.
