The funniest thought occured to me the other day, while atop a camel: What the hell am I doing in the Saharan Desert? I couldn't help but laugh outloud, but it was a bad idea because all I got in return was a mouthful of sand.
Seriously, I really could not recount how I ended up traveling in a caravan two hours into the dry, expansive Sahara. It wasn't my short term memory I was having problems with, rather it was the past eight months that were baffling me.
Somehow I managed to find myself leaving my home, the great US of A, for the first time in my young life. And I ended up in Beirut, of all places. I didn't even go to Europe or Canada before packing my bags for an extended stay in the Middle East.
As if moving to Beirut wasn't exciting enough, I found myself exploring Central and Eastern Europe, visiting countries like Syria and now I am studying in North Africa. The whole trip has been a blur really. One great big dream, which I seem to drifting in and out of.
And suddenly, I was in the Saharan Desert. I think I remember reading about this region of the world when I was a freshman in high school. Wow, never did I think I would experience first hand how it looked, smelled and tasted.
The ride was so...interesting. It had its own sort of beauty. The scenery was all the same color, made of all the same substance, and did not boast any sort of wildlife, except the occasional beetle. But there was something so wonderful about how the sand blew off the tops of sand dunes in long brown streams. And the wind was sooo dry and pure. Elongated shadows of sand dunes, or riders atop their camels shed the only contrast to the blue sky and the brown sand, and the shadows made the desert come alive.
For the first hour the people in our chain of camels, and there were four of us (Me in the front, and then Karl, Alex and finally a good-natured Brit named John) we played a few rounds of 20 questions and commented on how unbearably uncomfortable it was to ride camels.
But after a while all the riders fell quiet, and if any of the others had an experience similar to mine, it was because we were pondering how we ended up in the desert and how surreal it all seemed in that moment. Of course these thoughts only came to me during the moments I could take my mind of the huge wedgie the camel and the saddle were creating.
After arriving to the "oasis", the hotel's sort of resort in the desert, I climbed the sand dune with Karl to see the view. The climb was ridiculously difficult, but it was well worth it. To get back down I tried an unconvential tactic, which was to slid down on my bottom. I didn't get too much sand in my pants and actually it was a lot of fun as the dune was very steep.
We spent the rest of our time playing cards, socializing, eating a feast and being entertained by the Berber men who served us and danced for us. Our board for the night was to sleep in tents, and there were surprisingly comfortable but that may be due to our exhaustion from the day's activities.
We went to bed late, and got up early to see the sunrise. Our return trip was nothing special...just as uncomfortable, and this time everyone was just a bit more tired. Upon finishing our Saharan excursion, we showered, ate a hearty breakfast, and then hit the road back to Fez.
Most of the students, including myself, slept and stared out the window. It was nice and relaxing. And we were probably all wondering what the hell happened...and if our trip into the desert was just another dream.
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