Our House in Yemen

Some would say that the riskiest thing I have ever done was spend a year living in Yemen. I'm not sure I can really catalogue my life choices in a way that one particular thing stands out as the riskiest but I'm not about to claim that living in Yemen was safe either.
We lived in the bottom two floors of the house pictured above. We had an enormous amount of space for just the two of us. It was crazy trying to clean it. For a time we had a local woman help us with housekeeping but it was too difficult for me to communicate with her and she did things like use my gallon Shout stain remover, that I'd meant to last me 2 years, in one week. (She cleaned our floors with it!) It was such a hard decision to let her go because we knew the poverty experienced by so many in Yemen. I then struggled for our remaining time there to clean a house full of marble, always covered in the thick dust that only someone that has lived there can comprehend.

I felt more at risk at some times than others. For the most part we worked during the day and watched satellite television shows at night. Our house was on a walled compound and we had two guards that stayed in a little house at our gate. I never had the courage to host any of our family members in our huge house. I guess I felt that the risk was worth the experience for me but wasn't willing to extend an invitation to take the same risk to my family.

 I wish I could have shared with them the view from our rooftop of local children playing soccer on a dusty, trash covered field at sunset. As the sun went down and they were backlit by it in a way that was blinding to look at, you could squint and forget for a minute where you were. The sounds of children playing are the same everywhere and their happy noise kicking a ball was calming to me especially after days that I was out and about in the noisy city, trying so hard not to draw too much attention to myself.
I took many pictures of children while we lived in Yemen. I look back on them every so often and can't help but wonder where they are and who they became.

 

As many photos as I have of children smiling and happy in a way only children can be like the photos of the boys above, I have photos with faces that haunt me as much today as they did 8 years ago. 

  

 It's difficult to consider that living in Yemen is the riskiest thing I have ever done when I try to imagine the path that some of these lives might have taken.

If You're Lucky

What is the greatest reward that can come from risk? I'm sure the answer is different for each and every one of us. Is it life after facing death? Someone needing surgery might think so. Is it having a lot of money after making a financial decision? Ask a wise investor. Is it freedom and prosperity after fleeing a bad situation? Our country is full of people who would say yes. Or is it nothing more than the knowledge that a personal choice in life led to a greater life? For those who are fortunate and carefully weigh their options when taking a risk, there are rewards.

Of course there is also the possibility that great risk leads to misfortune, undesirable circumstances, or even tragedy and lives are cut short all too often from risky behaviors whether it's not wearing a seat belt, using drugs, eating a terrible diet, or smoking.
For me the choice to take a risk must be accompanied by the likelihood of a great reward of some type. Buying homes must promise a good chance of being able to sell it when the military tells us we have to move. Deciding what my family will do is always based on what will be best in what we like to think of as the long run. (Even if the longest "run" we have had anywhere is three years!)

My husband is a Marine. The life of someone in the military is so full of risk yet the rewards are often nothing more than pride in a mission completed. There are times when the reward after a long day's work is survival. It seems unfair sometimes for me to consider the day to day risks I choose to take in order to achieve or obtain something knowing how different the risks are for some.

Tour guides at Shahara, Yemen

One of the best hiking experiences we ever had when we lived in Yemen was a hike to Shahara Bridge. We climbed an enormous mountain with a group of American friends, Yemeni guides, and a group of armed Yemeni military guards. It was so remote, so incredibly rugged that it is difficult for me to believe I have been there. The danger facing hikers to the bridge is first and foremost falling to their death and I believe that in the photo above where I'm sitting on the edge of a canyon above the bridge, I have my arm braced on the rocks behind me as though I was aware of that then.

After reaching the bridge at Shahara, Yemen

There was also the distinct possibility that as Americans we might not have received a warm welcome by the locals. Terrible things could have happened to our group on that hike but fortunately nothing did. We had a great adventure that I'm sure none of us will ever forget. Did friends that stayed home feel the risk was too great to take the hike with us but then regret their decision, having missed such an experience? I don't blame anyone who believed the reward was not enough to risk taking the trip. We all exhausted ourselves with the climb and then slept on the floor in one room and shared a bathroom with a hole in the floor for a toilet. I'm grateful that my 2005 self felt that the reward was worth the risk because I don't think my 2013 self would.
Risk is as unique to each person as rewards are. Do I believe the saying that with great risks come great rewards? The only answer I can think of is, if you're lucky.

It's Safe to Say, I'm a Risk Taker

Socotra, Yemen

Is it better to play it safe or take risks?

Our world is so full of incredible things to see. Life is way too short. Without taking risks, lives just pass by and a person can end theirs having been just a little speck on a map that never moved very far from its starting point, never made a mark, and never made any waves.

We are a military family and are fortunate enough to have traveled the world more than most people. I took the photos in this post when we lived in Sana'a, Yemen in 2005. For one year, we were able to see sights that most people will never see other than in pictures, including some places that I'm sure not many Americans have been able to visit since. Without our willingness to take risks, and be uncomfortable and even scared at times, the amazing memories I have would belong to someone else more willing to step away from what was familiar and comfortable.

If we played it safe, the years we spent exploring overseas may have instead been spent on a military base, in a military town, shopping at familiar markets, eating out at restaurants, going to the movies, and shopping. Although we missed those comforts, making the gutsy decision to give them up was the best decision we ever made. There is no better way to learn how brave you are than to force yourself to try something new. There is no better way to learn to appreciate what you have as an American than to give it up for a life somewhere else where people have so little.

Sana'a Yemen

When I first asked myself the question is it better to play it safe or take risks, I thought my answer without hesitation was to take the risks. For a second I forgot about the one area of my life that I play it so safe it's almost funny at times. When it comes to my son, even as he approaches his second birthday, I play it safe to the point that I still watch him sleep on a monitor, still refuse to allow stuffed animals in his crib for fear he'll suffocate, and just in general still feel like I could make some mistake at any moment that would hurt him. I wouldn't let him try solid food until he was six months for fear that he would choke or stop nursing. I closely checked the temperature in his room so that the risk of SIDS was lessened after reading that it may be caused by overheating and I really wanted a digital thermometer in his room.

Looking back on this photo I took of the children in the back of that car in Yemen for the first time as a parent, I almost feel sorry that I took it. As a mother, the photo means more to me than what, at the time, was just some adult taking a ridiculous risk with those little ones. There is nothing more precious to me than my child. Even if it seems silly and I know that I can't protect him from everything, I will let my parenting continue to be a place that my rule is to play it safe. Even though I thought nothing of walking through a bazaar in a Muslim country without covering my face or my bright red hair, I still have trouble letting go of the video baby monitor, the parenting manuals, and the homemade baby food maker.

Have you ever seen a beautiful beach with nothing but a camel on it? If not, do something about that! Make the brave choices instead of the safe choices sometimes.