Al-Balad: Regenerating the past
Restoring Jeddah's historic district offers not just a connection to another time for visitors, but a vital link for a local community that still considers it very much a part of the present
When I tipped my head to the side, I could almost hear the clop of camels’ hooves on the cobblestones, their saddle bags bulging with cloves, pepper and ginger from the Far East; porcelain, jade and silk from China; and cardamon, cumin and turmeric from India, all unloaded from dhows that had sailed up the long barrel of the Red Sea. Some of them would have been led out into the desert by traders, others marched upstairs and into the kitchens of coral-stone mansions so tall that they carved the sky into thin blues lanes. Today, the dromedaries may have disappeared from the streets, but you can still buy spices in the souks, hear the call to prayer issuing from candle-like minarets and step inside the ancient homes of Al-Balad, Jeddah's UNESCO-listed Old Town.
Jeddah started life as a modest fishing village, but when the third Caliph, Uthman Ibn Affan, visited in 624 AD to swim in its waters and pray on its soil, he declared it the main entry port to Makkah (Mecca) and its fortunes changed almost overnight. Devotees travelling for Hajj (the pilgrimage to Mecca) flocked through the city walls – which were only torn down in 1947 – and the town became a major stopping point on the silk, spice, coffee and incense trade routes.
Over the centuries, many explorers have passed through Jeddah, including Ludovico de Varthema, Ibn Battuta, Richard Burton and TE Lawrence (better known as Lawrence of Arabia). When writer Paul Salopek visited Al-Balad in 2013 as part of his ‘Out of Eden Walk’ – a 38,600km odyssey to retrace our ancestors’ global migration routes – he wrote: “Modern-day Saudi Arabia has lost so much of its memory beneath sleek highways, parking lots, hotels, malls,” but here “is a remnant world – a preserved square kilometre of remembering.”
However, during the 1970s oil boom, locals moved out to modern complexes and the Old Town was largely neglected. On average, two buildings per year either fell down or were lost to fire, so in 2018, the Ministry of Culture appointed the Jeddah Historical District Progam (JHD) to oversee the restoration of Al-Balad. The area comprises four districts – Harat Al-Sham, Harat Al-Mazloum, Harat Al-Bahar and Harat Al-Yaman – and contains five historic souks, 36 mosques and 650 centuries-old mansions. Even today it still hums with busy brick-oven bakeries and traditional coffee shops, and has its own 170-year-old restaurant.
“Old cities are like bodies, the lanes like veins – they arise organically. And that hasn't been lost in Al-Balad,” said Ahmed Angawi, founder of artist collective Zawiya 97 (see p179). Indeed, the area has managed to maintain a sense of community down the years, whether that is found in locals gathering five times a day to stand shoulder to shoulder while praying at Al-Shafi'i Mosque with its 800-year-old minaret, or in those joining the Jeddah Academy of Fine Arts for its outdoor classes, it is a familiarity that endures. Many of the people who work here have memories built into its old coral stones.
“My grandfather was a merchant in Al-Balad, and my mother still buys her groceries here,” said Rawaa Bakhsh, communications manager for the JHD, as we sat in her office inside the 120-year-old Beit Jamjoom in the heart of the Old Town. “In some restored places around the world, the soul has been sucked out – not here. This isn't a ‘living museum’ – our aim is to regenerate and revive. These houses long for their people. Like two lovers, they thrive when they're together.”
The JHD is aiming to avoid the mistakes that have been made by other cities around the world in restoring their old quarters.
“We don't want a Venice or Dubrovnik. So, cruise ships will have to moor 2km away,” said Abdulaziz Alissa, director general of the JHD. “This includes returning to how it looked in 1948, when the sea lapped at the shores of the old city,” he added.
There is a real sense of time travel here. Perhaps it's because in Saudi Arabia it's still the year 1445, thanks to the lunar Hijri calendar, or because just north’, meaning ‘grandmother’ (Eve is often called the grandmother of humanity), and it has been suggested that the city may be one of the world's oldest. What is undeniable is the feeling of being transported to another era as you wander the alleys of Al-Balad. I guarantee you'll be listening for the clop of a camel around each corner.
