National Museum of Yemen

Being a designer from the western world, you’re accustomed to working within a set of criteria closely tied to our western culture. However, in Yemen, these criteria simply do not apply. Nothing in this country relates to our familiar experiences and knowledge. Our expertise is of limited use, and our prior experiences can only be applied to a limited extent.
When it comes to making agreements, it’s a speculative endeavor. Quotations are rare, and there’s no concept of invoices. Payment upfront is a requirement, and raising complaints proves futile.
Even our common sense, as a last resort, disappointingly falls short. While we are treated with great friendliness and hospitality, there remains a sense of scepticism.

In Yemen, virtually everyone, in every village, is armed to the teeth. It’s customary for every young man to receive an AK-47 on his wedding day.

. This project was carried out during one of the few periods of peace in the country.
In late 1997, following a public tender, our agency was tasked with the mission to upgrade the National Museum of the Republic of Yemen in the capital city of Sana’a. This involved renovating buildings, enhancing collection management, improving permanent displays, and providing staff training.
The budget allocated was 5 million Gld, and the project was scheduled to span four years. Yemen, a country with minimal natural resources and limited industry, is not particularly wealthy in oil and gas, but it possesses mineral resources from a distant past, with most of them now concealed by desert sands. Some of these resources would eventually find their way to the National Museum.

Sana’a is a city that alternates between astonishing and dismaying observers. The pollution is alarming, but the architecture, especially the renowned eight-story clay apartment buildings in the Hadhramawt region, is a marvel.

While buildings in Sana’a are not as tall, many are still entirely handmade and possess organic shapes, reflecting a strong connection with nature.
Yemen is a poverty-stricken nation perpetually marred by wars that hinder development. There are insufficient resources for constructing new houses, so the population has been restoring their existing homes for centuries. Consequently, time appears to have stood still, and the country seems to have only recently emerged from the Middle Ages. In this world of extreme contradictions, taking on a design project becomes an adventurous unknown.

The museum is housed in the palace of the last Imam, who lost power in the early 1960s. This palace was constructed in the middle of what remained of a military hospital from the second Ottoman period.
When collaborating with local individuals, surprises abound. Nearly every man works only in the morning, reserving the afternoons for chewing khat, a stimulant derived from the leaves of a privet shrub. Total Design employees often had to partake to build trust. This practice can be likened to conducting business in a local pub, where deals are struck, agreements are made, and stories are exchanged. Chewing khat is a remarkable experience. Typically, people gather on the top floor of a house, sharing Qat, drinks, and nuts. A communal water pipe is also passed around, with each person using their mouthpiece. The gathering continues in quiet contemplation until around 6 o’clock when the sun sets almost vertically, casting a profound stillness over everyone as they yield to the fading light.

Total Design’s objective was to design everything with the assistance of local expertise, without importing anything from the Netherlands. This wasn’t due to a lack of appreciation for Dutch products but rather because maintenance in Yemen would be impossible. A basic digital projector, for instance, becomes useless as soon as the bulb breaks. Only local architects and craftsmen provide any continuity for repairs and maintenance. Our contribution is questionable. What can we teach these people in the realm of design? After all, time seems to have stood still, and craftsmanship still holds sway here.
Creating things like display cases takes longer, despite the manual labor involved. However, these display cases are not only much more affordable but can also be repaired on-site. The handcrafted work comes at no significant cost and exhibits an unparalleled robust beauty. Making a handmade display case in the Netherlands costs a fortune, whereas in Yemen, it costs virtually nothing.
This assignment was unlike typical design work, but it was deeply connected to our profession in ways we were unaccustomed to. It was a journey of discovery into unfamiliar values, requiring a sense of humility.

In summary, this project was one of the most thrilling design assignments ever undertaken