From Library Journal
The title refers to qat, a leaf that when chewed produces a hypnotic effect. When Rushby was teaching English in Yemen, he became enraptured by the drug, which is central to Yemeni social life. Back in Britain and feeling nostalgic several years later, he decided to go back and follow the ancient trade routes of qat, which overlapped the routes of Arthur Rimbaud and the explorer Richard Burton. Rushby's vivid writing reveals places that few visit: Southern Ethiopia, Djibouti, and Yemen. He meets strange and sometimes dangerous characters but finds generosity almost everywhere he goes. This may be how he manages to keep his sense of humor and enthusiasm even when dealing with angry, gun-toting officials or negotiating treacherous hikes along steep mountain passes. This travelog is a little too much of an ode to qat, and because of the nature of the societies Rushby visits, you only get a view of the men's world. Still, this is entertaining reading; recommended for large public and academic libraries.AKathleen A. Shanahan, American Univ Lib., Washington, DCCopyright 1999 Reed Business Information, Inc.


From Kirkus Reviews
A superior travel narrative of the qat trail, its history and strange quirks, and very strange characters, from newcomer Rushby. Qat is a brilliant green leaf that can be seen ``flashing like a broken traffic light'' in mouths from northeast Africa to the Arabian Peninsula (and many points beyond, where citizens from these lands have settled). Its effects are highly individualized, and its reputation is not agreed upon: ``legal in Britain, banned in the USA, celebrated in Yemen, vilified in Saudi Arabia.'' But there is no disputing its pivotal role in the poetry, music, architecture, and family relations of Ethiopia and Yemen, not to mention in television schedules, road-building, and economic status. Rushby engrossingly outlines all of these effects. He had been familiar with the drug for a number of years before he decided to follow the qat route from Harrar overland to Djibouti, across the Red Sea to the coffee port of Mokha, then into the hills of the two Yemens, before anchoring in San'a. It was far from a comfortable journey, but Rushby makes light humor of its tribulations and brings an enormous brio to his subject. His travels are not just in pursuit of the history and culture of qat, for he quickly learns that the pleasure of the plant is in the companionship of using it. Hes a humble pilgrim and a shrewd witness, open to the tales and legends (some of the shaggy variety and some fantastic) told by cabbies and goldsmiths, fakirs and foreign legionnaires and fellow travelers. There is a polish to his descriptions of landscape, thoroughness to his political geographies and social observations, and savvy to his handling of dicey situations with authorities. Like its subject, Rushby's book can loosen ones mooring to the everyday world, conveying the reader to darkened rooms high above ancient, exotic cities. -- Copyright ©1999, Kirkus Associates, LP. All rights reserved.


Review
". . . [A]bounds with fascinating and exciting fresh material presented in a style comparable to the accepted classics of travel in Arabia and the Middle East." --Norman Lewis



Book Description
Ethiopia in eastern Africa and Yemen on the Arabian peninsula remain as two of the most inviting outposts for travelers seeking the exotic, the exciting and, occasionally, the dangerous. In these two places Qat is just one name given to a green leafy plant that is cultivated there. When chewed, the leaves of this plant release two pharmacologically-active substances that produce a hypnotic, reverential “high” similar to marijuana, but distinctive in the thoughtful state it induces. Kevin Rushby traveled to Ethiopia and Yemen and discovered that the use of Qat is more than the casual use of a mild narcotic. He found that it is a way of life. Qat plays a pivotal role in all facets of the culture influencing everything from architecture to television schedules. Tracing the historic trade routes of Qat the author travels from the heart of Ethiopia over the Red Sea and into Arabia. Written with an exceptional combination of grace, wit and insight, Kevin Rushby proves himself to be a worthy successor to Paul Theroux, Bruce Chatwin and Jan Morris. From Addis Abbaba to Djibouti to Dire Dowa and on to San’a, Rushby discovers the soul of these places while meeting characters one might call "interesting" and avoiding situations one might call "life-threatening." Eating the Flowers of Paradise is a powerful and entertaining journey through exotic lands by one of the best new writers to emerge in recent years.



From the Publisher
"Eating the Flowers of Paradise is an account of extraordinary journeyings in a corner of the earth which remarkably enough has eluded investigation by explorers until this time. It abounds with fascinating and exciting fresh material presented in a style comparable to the accepted classics of travel in Arabia and the Middle East." --Norman Lewis "If you never chew a leaf in your life, this rollicking tale of high adventure should give you a hint of how it feels." --The Independent on Sunday (London)"Rushby is a fearless and sociable traveller....There are many amusing episodes and good jokes in this engaging book." --The Tablet (United Kingdom)"Pure joy from beginning to end." --Wanderlust (United Kingdom)


About the Author
Kevin Rushby taught English in Sudan, Malaysia, and Yemen before becoming a fulltime author and photographer.

FROM THE PUBLISHER

Lured by Idyllic Memories of ancient cities, spectacular mountains and, most of all, dreamy afternoons spent chewing the psychoactive leaves of the qat tree, Kevin Rushby set out to travel the old "Qat Road" from the highlands of Ethiopia to Yemen. It was to prove a fascinating and dangerous journey, peopled with an extraordinary array of characters - criminals, Islamic scholars, an exorcist, and the mysterious Cedric, the travelling companion from hell. Eating the Flowers of Paradise combines classic travel writing with an explanation of the rich and varied culture surrounding the drug qat. Legal in the U.K. but banned in the U.S.; experts variously claim it to be as mild as tea or as addictive as cocaine. In the Yemen, it is central to the life of the country, and, as he goes, Rushby explores our attitudes towards substance abuse and addiction.

FROM THE CRITICS

Publishers Weekly

The flower of paradise is khat (also known as qat), a plant whose leaves, when chewed, release a powerful stimulant. Eager to return to Yemen, where he taught in the 1980s before the country embraced puritanical Islam, the intrepid Rushby set out to retrace 19th-century explorer Richard Burton's travels along the Khat Road, an ancient (and still dangerous) trade route between Ethiopia and the Arab peninsula. It's a rollicking, exotic trek. Like the rugged lands that produce the leaf, khat is a drug abundant with contradictions: banned in most of the Middle East, it's Yemen's primary cash crop; illegal in the U.S. (though commonly found in botanical gardens), it's sold by English greengrocers; favored as dance fuel by London club-hoppers, it's a complex social lubricant in Yemen, playing "a pivotal role in poetry, music, architecture, family relations, wedding and funerary rites... office hours, television schedules, even whether couples have sex and how long it lasts." A khat fancier himself, Rushby repeatedly draws parallels between the Victorian demonization of sex (a cultural puritanism flouted by Burton and by the poet Rimbaud, another visitor to the area) and America's drug war. At times, it's tempting to dismiss his pro-khat proselytizing as the addled rationalizations of an addict. That would be a mistake. Rushby's pilgrimage is adventure travel at its best: passionate yet even-handed, a nonjudgmental, knowing glimpse of a venerable culture. Rushby is an open-minded guide, documenting contemporary hardship and evoking the stunning landscape while unveiling an idiosyncratic picture of the region's rich history. (Apr.)

Library Journal

The title refers to qat, a leaf that when chewed produces a hypnotic effect. When Rushby was teaching English in Yemen, he became enraptured by the drug, which is central to Yemeni social life. Back in Britain and feeling nostalgic several years later, he decided to go back and follow the ancient trade routes of qat, which overlapped the routes of Arthur Rimbaud and the explorer Richard Burton. Rushby's vivid writing reveals places that few visit: Southern Ethiopia, Djibouti, and Yemen. He meets strange and sometimes dangerous characters but finds generosity almost everywhere he goes. This may be how he manages to keep his sense of humor and enthusiasm even when dealing with angry, gun-toting officials or negotiating treacherous hikes along steep mountain passes. This travelog is a little too much of an ode to qat, and because of the nature of the societies Rushby visits, you only get a view of the men's world. Still, this is entertaining reading; recommended for large public and academic libraries.--Kathleen A. Shanahan, American Univ Lib., Washington, DC

Booknews

English teacher turned author and photographer, Rushby recounts his trip along the old Qat Road from the highlands of Ethiopia to Yemen, describing the people and cultures he encountered. He augments traditional travel narrative by exploring the rich and varied culture surrounding the drug qat, legal in Britain, banned in the US, central to the life of Yemen, and variously characterized as being as mild as tea or as addictive as cocaine. Indeed he includes a qat glossary and consumer's guide to buying and enjoying it, and ponders the range of attitudes about drugs and addiction. Annotation c. Book News, Inc., Portland, OR (booknew.com)

Kirkus Reviews

A superior travel narrative of the qat trail, its history and strange quirks, and very strange characters, from newcomer Rushby. Qat is a brilliant green leaf that can be seen "flashing like a broken traffic light" in mouths from northeast Africa to the Arabian Peninsula (and many points beyond, where citizens from these lands have settled). Its effects are highly individualized, and its reputation is not agreed upon: "legal in Britain, banned in the USA, celebrated in Yemen, vilified in Saudi Arabia." But there is no disputing its pivotal role in the poetry, music, architecture, and family relations of Ethiopia and Yemen, not to mention in television schedules, road-building, and economic status. Rushby engrossingly outlines all of these effects. He had been familiar with the drug for a number of years before he decided to follow the qat route from Harrar overland to Djibouti, across the Red Sea to the coffee port of Mokha, then into the hills of the two Yemens, before anchoring in San'a. It was far from a comfortable journey, but Rushby makes light humor of its tribulations and brings an enormous brio to his subject. His travels are not just in pursuit of the history and culture of qat, for he quickly learns that the pleasure of the plant is in the companionship of using it. He's a humble pilgrim and a shrewd witness, open to the tales and legends (some of the shaggy variety and some fantastic) told by cabbies and goldsmiths, fakirs and foreign legionnaires and fellow travelers. There is a polish to his descriptions of landscape, thoroughness to his political geographies and social observations, and savvy to his handling of dicey situations with authorities. Like its subject,Rushby's book can loosen one's mooring to the everyday world, conveying the reader to darkened rooms high above ancient, exotic cities.