ADEN: Happy Arabia

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The port of Aden lies on the edge of a huge, volcanic rock on the tilted coast of southwest Arabia about 100 miles from the mouth of the Red Sea. Romans called the neighboring territory Arabia Felix. Kipling, with a sharper eye for the facts, called Aden "a barrick-stove." It is one of the hottest, most forlorn spots in the British Empire, of which it became a part just a century ago. Its acquisition as Queen Victoria's first colony made the young virgin Queen very happy. She, the Romans and Aden's Governor, Lieut.-Colonel Sir Bernard Rawdon Reilly, who says he likes his rock-ribbed home, share their felicity virtually alone.

Aden's rock is so bare that only three clumps of foliage can be seen from the sea. Having not one natural source of drinking water, residents must be satisfied with condensed sea water, with the trickles from artesian wells, one 1,500 feet deep, or with the stagnant liquid in rain-wells which ancient Persians are supposed to have cut in the rocks. Colonials' rum-punches are earthy and their cats red-brown from omnipresent dust. Malaria and other tropical diseases are common. Only industries are manufacture of salt and cigarets (which are sold very cheaply under pirated labels). Such sports as camel-racing can be indulged in when it is not too hot. The port, a strategic and impregnable naval base (sometimes called the Gibraltar of the East) bristles with guns.

In spite of all this, Sir Bernard thinks the Bedouins who live in Aden are lucky. Last week he let them in on some centenary pageantry—a ball, concerts, a show of arms, a special issue of postage stamps. Sixteen sultans from the outlying protectorate paraded in splendor. One real gift, worth waiting a century for in disease-ridden Aden: $30,000 for a Maternity and Child Welfare Centre.