The Camel Caravan

The cold winds blew across the desert. It was December and the desert appeared lifeless. No trace could be seen of the life waiting beneath the sand. And there it remained, waiting for the breezes of spring.

The winter winds whipped the sands and the sandstorms rose up around us. We attempted to shield ourselves with our gutras, the traditional Arabian headgear. The storms lasted for what seemed like days and nights.

When the spring broke through the storms it was a welcome change. The sun shone brightly and to my astonishment rain fell from the sky. The rain even suprised the Arabians. " It is a gift from Allah" said one. Another nodded in agreement and a third spoke of the birth of several White Camels. The White Camel is an auspicious event in the Arab World.

Overnight the desert blossomed. Tiny plants were everywhere. Greens, Yellows and Reds had sprung up in the once arid desert. Teeming with life it is easy to see why the rains were such a blessing.

The days rolled on, one into another and one day I observed in the distance a slowly moving line snaking its way across the desert. The Caravans had arrived. " That is the true Arabia"  my friend said to me. He is an Arabian city dweller. His family only 40 years out of the desert. " My family heritage is that! for hundred of years they have ran the Camel Caravans along these and the spice routes in the south of the peninsula. This is the time of year I take the suburban across the desert to meet with my family. You should ride along with me and see the Arabia of my forefathers. The days before the oil and petrochemical plants." I quickly accepted his gracious invitation and he informed me that I must wear the traditional Arab dress. My American Bluejeans were much too hot for the desert.

Later that week we went to the Souk, the traditional Arabian market place. I purchased the traditional white Arabian Thobe, looking like a long white gown. I added to this another Gutra for my head.

The days passed and I watched the endless stream of caravans making their way across the desert. The telephone call finally came. I called off of work and we were off. Dressed in my new clothes, the desert sun was bearable and the air conditioning in the Suburban was working overtime. We raced along the desert. A seemingly unchanging landscape. By early evening we reached the camp of my friends family. We exited the truck and were greeted by his extended family. He explained the Arabic that I was hearing. It was the old nomadic greeting..." Has it rained?" This greeting clearly indicated the importance of the rains to these roving peoples.

The fires were burning and the smell of roasting lamb filled the air. We dined in a large tent where the floors were covered in carpets from far off places as Tabriz, Uzibeckistan, and Afganisthan. The meal was traditional, eaten with the hands, from common bowls. Being a left handed westerner, my friend instructed me to eat with only my right hand as the left is considered to be the Toilet Hand in Arabic culture.

After dinner we assembler around the fire, once again sitting on carpets and watched the stars journey across the cloudless desert sky. The Hooka or Hubly Bubbly was lit and passed from hand to hand. When my turn arrived I inhaled deeply and realized that the pipe was not tobacco or Kif. The bowl contained Hashish. There were nods of approval amongst the men as I realized what I was smoking. The pipe traveled round and round, the fire blazed and my friend explained the gist of the conversation to me. Hours passed, the fire was reduced to embers. I wrapped myself in a blanket and drifted off to sleep while the stars danced in the sky.

They arose early the next morning.I joined them in a meal consisting of cooked liver, Foul which is a bean dish similar to refried beans. Stacks of hot flat breads covered with sesame seeds along with  Cheeses, dates and Halawa, a honey and sesame confection similar to a dry fudge.  All this washed down by a hot tea, sweetened with sugar and flavored with mint and served in small shot glass sized glasses.

I was taken to see the camels and sure enough, there were the white camels that my friend had spoken of. Was this to be an auspicious day for me?? I had to wait and see.

I inquired of my friend if it was permissible to ask what goods the caravans transported. He explained my request to his uncle. I saw a slow smile crawl across his face as more Arabic was exchanged. His uncle laughed. His uncle took my hand and escorted me across their small camp. To my suprise there were many sacks and crates on the ground. He handed me a sack and we walked along the crates and sacks. We stopped, he reached in and put sandalwood into my sack. From another he presented me resinous frankincense. Other sacks contained rice, dried fruits and the like. The crates were curious indeed. They were stenciled in English and Arabic. It clearly stated the contents to be Agricultural implements. An open crate revealed the contents to be rifles. My friends uncle explained that they were for other members of his tribe which he would meet on his journey. We walked further and he picked up a sack. He looked into my eyes and held up one finger. I realized I was to take one, just one from the contents of the bag. The sandal and frankincense were already gift enough but I thrust my hand inside the bag. I pulled one from the bag. The sunlight revealed an oblong package covered in burlap. I opened its packaging. My breath faltered...The uncle grinned. I was holding in my hand a Kilo block of Black Hashish. I raised it to my nose and savored the aroma. I turned it in my hands, examing it and saw the crossed swords embossed in it. Clearly this had traveled from Morocco, across the desert sands, into my hands here on this ancient trade route. The uncle smiled a sly smile to me and my friend joined us. 

We walked to the camp and shared a lunch together. My friend explained that his uncle was a proud man and it pleased him to present me with gifts. He admonished me that his uncle would not accept anything in return. His uncle broke into the conversation, My friend explained that the uncle was concerned that I realized that out here they live by the law of the desert. He warned me to be very careful with his gift, to keep it secret. Things are much different in the city, he added.

After lunch we said our farewells and were once again racing across the desert sands.

Yes I suppose you could call this an auspicious event.