SAN'A, Yemen — It's 9 p.m., an hour when carpenters normally are getting ready to close for the day, sweeping up wood shavings and stray khat leaves from the floor of narrow workshops in Old San'a.
But this is the Muslim holy month of Ramadan, a time when carpenter Adil Ismail al-Mafadi and many other Yemenis joyfully turn their lives upside down. Al-Mafadi is just opening up for a night of business, after a day spent praying, socializing and grabbing a few hours sleep.
With Ramadan's ban on eating or drinking during daylight hours, it has become tradition in Yemen to put off work until night, when hunger pangs — and other longings — won't be a distraction. Smoking and chewing khat, a mild stimulant that is a Yemeni passion, also are forbidden during Ramadan days, which are meant to be spent in prayer and contemplation.
"We are happy to avoid smoking and khat during the days of Ramadan. Thanks to God's mercy, we can stand it," says al-Mafadi, managing a wide smile despite a tennis-ball size wad of khat tucked into his left cheek as he prepares to work until 3 a.m.
He won't be alone. Until dawn, the cobbled streets of the capital's ancient quarter are bustling streams of cyclists and pedestrians, women draped head-to-toe in black gowns that reveal only the eyes, men with traditional Yemeni daggers tucked into their belts. The occasional car or truck squeezes through, the driver honking impatiently.
It is Ramadan for Muslims all over the world, but in few places does modern life surrender to tradition as thoroughly as Yemen.
"It's because Yemenis are 100 percent Muslim," says Mohammed Ahmed al-Hamani, a souvenir shop owner in Old San'a.
The phrase is uttered by others trying to explain why Ramadan is observed as it is in Yemen.
Some theorize Yemen may be influenced by being next to conservative Saudi Arabia, home to the holiest shrines of Islam. Saudi Arabia also is a place where foreigners caught eating, drinking or smoking in public during the day during Ramadan face deportation.
Then there is the economic isolation of this poor country. San'a must be among the last capitals in the world without a McDonald's, although it does have an American-style pizza restaurant.
Apart from the pizza place and the few upper-class hotels, it's nearly impossible to find a restaurant or cafe open to serve non-Muslims or non-fasting Muslims. In the big cities of other predominantly Muslim nations, a variety of Western fast-food restaurants serve up burgers and fries during Ramadan days.
Yemen's post offices, city halls, the Central Bank and other state offices cut the working day during Ramadan to give an extra two hours of sleep for civil servants who have been up late shopping and visiting friends. In Pakistan, by contrast, bureaucrats actually start earlier, so they can leave early for evening meals after all-day fasts.
The Ramadan slowdown could affect legal proceedings in Yemen's investigation of the Oct. 12 bombing of the USS Cole. It's not clear whether prosecutors will file charges against at least two suspects, as investigators reportedly have recommended, or if a trial will begin before Ramadan ends at the end of December.
The streets of San'a are deserted at sundown, when most people are home having breakfast. It's only later, under a sliver of moon hanging in the sky like a smile, that Old San'a comes alive.
Children are everywhere. They play hide-and-seek or a cramped game of soccer in an alleyway or shoot off firecrackers in sparkling cascades, exuberant at the Ramadan treat of being allowed out at night.
Does 13-year-old Mohammed al-Thulaya fast? He clicks his tongue, a Yemeni "yes," and adds proudly that he's been keeping the Ramadan fast since he was 10.
"It's a celebration," he declares, then becomes tongue-tied, embarrassment getting the best of him, when asked to explain what is being celebrated.
Muslims believe their holy book, the Quran, was revealed to man during a Ramadan some 1,400 years ago.
While waiting for customers, al-Hamani and his friend and fellow souvenir seller Abdullah Hussein al-Karamani sit together, taking turns reading aloud from the Quran.
"We feel we grow closer to God during this month," al-Karamani says.