I have The Man's flight itinerary. I knew he had 10 hours in London, and six hours in Dubai. I kept hoping I would hear from him. I didn't. I knew he would arrive in Sana'a 8:35 a.m. Monday, local time. He is seven hours ahead of us there. I wondered if he would try to make contact upon arrival. I wondered how his flight went, whether there were incidents with any of the connections, and what about being jet lagged.
I woke up this morning and rushed to check my e-mail. 8:00 a.m. in Toronto means 3:00 p.m. in Sana'a. I've customized a world clock on my computer to tell me this. He surely must have arrived and had time to... what? Sleep? Contact the UNICEF office? Walk around town to take it all in?
Kiki and I browsed pictures of Sana'a the last night she was here. The old part of the city looks like it's made of gingerbread houses. Like this:
The buildings are used like this:
I was excited to see in my e-mail box a message from The Man! His note was time stamped 3:16 a.m. Indeed, he said was 10:14 a.m. there when he started his e-mail. He was writing from the hotel's business centre. Yemen is like Mars, dry and dusty. The office is sending a car around to pick him up at noon. More later.
That was it. But what a rush!
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