Saturday, December 13, 2008

A couple of weeks ago, Nick and I went with six others (Texas A&M grad students/employees) on a desert excursion. We had a fantastic time! We left the city at about 2:00pm on Friday (the weekend is Friday and Saturday here) and were transported in two Land Cruisers by Abrahim and Adel, two native Qatari men. We drove for a little over an hour with Arabic music blasting from the car stereo until we found mountainous dunes that seemed untouched by humans. It was then that we began the trackless roller coaster ride they call “dune bashing”. Abrahim started out easy at first, accelerating over bumpy plains of sand, taking the occasional sharp turn. Then we began to climb steeper inclines, still moving rapidly until, suddenly, we’d look ahead and find nothing around us! Down we went over steep cliffs of sand with nothing to stop us from flipping the vehicle except for our driver’s experience and expertise as a self-proclaimed “man of the desert”. We went over dune after dune, some straight down and others sideways (the scariest!). It couldn’t have been more fun or exciting.
After a couple hours of dune bashing, we stopped to admire the sunset over the dunes and the inland sea. We walked on the shore and soaked in the ambiance, which included a view of Saudi Arabia across the water. It was windy, but peaceful in its vastness. It made me realize how small I am, like a grain of sand, in an unfathomable universe. The nothingness of the desert can be so spectacular, yet it is so different from my conventional definition of beauty in landscape. As an East coast girl who has always admired changing leaves and green panoramas, I have now been confronted by an exotic contender in nature’s beauty pageant.
Since we were such a small group, Abrahim and Adel decided to take us to see their friend’s camel farm. The owner of the farm, a weathered Bedouin man, lived in a large tent in the middle of the desert. He had a herd of about 25 camels outside and a rambunctious kitten—his only other living companions for miles. However, in all his simplicity and isolation, he still managed to have satellite television and a mobile phone (which is understandably necessary, yet comical). After taking pictures of the camels, we went inside his tent and he fed us dates and the most sugary tea and coffee I’d ever had. He made the coffee from scratch—pounding and grinding the beans by hand—and served it to us in somewhat clean cups with an unbalanced coffee to sugar ratio. After we finished “tea time” with our Bedouin friend, we hopped back into the Land Cruisers and headed for camp, speeding over the sand in the darkness.
Our guides’ tour group had a permanent camp set up among the dunes on the inland sea. They had several tents, outhouses, a makeshift kitchen/grill, an eating area, and even a sand volleyball court (on which we all successfully embarrassed ourselves). The camp was surrounded by small lights powered by a generator. They had two men waiting for us with dinner made—kabobs, rice, hummus, bread, etc.—and cold drinks on ice. We ate and, after digesting, we went to attempt our first “sand boarding” experience (i.e. using a snowboard on the dunes). I didn’t bring tennis shoes so I used it as a sled instead, cruising down the slope on my butt. Some of the guys were actually pretty good. In the dim light, the sand could have been mistaken for snow and the guys looked like a bunch of crazy surfers (wearing shorts and t-shirts) going north for a weekend to try their “sea legs” on land. Nick held his own and stayed up most of the way down, but gave us some laughs and entertainment during a dramatic spill. Nick and I also decided to take a walk to the top of the tallest dune nearby (a great alternative to the “Buns of Steel” workout) and check out the night scenery and views. It was gorgeous, yet eerily quiet and desolate. It made me imagine how scary it would be to be lost or alone in the desert. I am definitely not one to find that type of solitude comforting.
After dune boarding and climbing, it was time to relax. Our guides brought out the shisha pipes to a square wooden platform covered in large pillows and rugs. Smoking shisha (hookah in other cultures), a water pipe filled with flavored tobacco, is a social custom in the Middle East. Since drinking in public is not only frowned upon but illegal here, it is their version of having a glass of wine with friends. Although I am not a smoker, it is part of the local custom, so why not? Abrahim and Adel came and sat with us, laughing and telling stories. It is hard to get to know the locals here, as they mostly keep to themselves, so this was a special opportunity. The most useful information we learned from our guides that night was that “Nick” means something very crude in Arabic. They insisted that Nick be called Nicholas. :)
After talking and looking at the stars for a while, we went to bed. The tents were filled with Persian rugs, large cushions, and sleeping bags. The temperature was definitely much cooler in the desert at night. I slept fairly well (Nick woke up to take pictures of the sunrise with his new camera) and in the morning breakfast awaited us. We spent the rest of the morning walking along the shore collecting pretty shells and starfish and then headed back to the city around 9:00am. It was a great adventure and a lot of fun
!