Erg, reg, hamada ? Deserts really tick the boxes for me. Actually, any desert does. Give me creosote bushes plus Joshua trees and I'm ecstatic. However, to give me the real deal, send me where I can hear those sad, soughing, susurrations of the Sirocco singing over the Saharan seif dunes. Most of the people I know think deserts are bleak, desperate places. I just love them (and alliterations, in case you hadn't noticed) !
At first you think they're empty, soul-less places. Very quickly you find out that life has the ability to colonise even the most empty of places. If you don't believe me, put your foot into your boot first thing in the morning without shaking it out first. It's probably going to be ok (scorpion stings only kill you about 39 % of the time (or so I'm told). I just love those extremes. Days are hotter than Hell (If I'm going there and so - after the life I've led, that's a real prospect - I hope that part's true at least. I should just about be able to cope). The nights are more than cold enough to make even a trebly reinforced tungsten steel monkey with doubly insulated underwear flinch. Get up in the cold, harsh steel-gray light of dawn and look at those icy bits on the oasis while you feel the cold strike through you. Two hours later and dehydration will set in if you don't start guzzling Adam's Ale in large quantities. Now that's what I call living. The stars at night are just unbelievable too.
Often the land seems so empty in the daytime. You'd think the nights would be too. Yet, in the dark, your ears seem to pick up so much more. There are all sorts of noises. Crunching, slithering, moaning, howling, you are so aware that there's life out there. Shine a torch out of your tent and see how often ghostly eyes are reflected back at you. Actually, it's quite funny. Light a fire and sit there. Whizzing noisily out of the dark, insects commit suicide at short and remarkably frequent intervals, leaping into the flames from astounding distances.
Mind you, you see some sights too. Whilst doing my bit for my employer in Tunisia, we were doing some research in the desert not too far from the places where they filmed a lot of the Star Wars series. It's very popular with tourists for some reason. Bus loads of tourists descend upon the homes of the trogolodytes and take photos then head back to a hotel with all mod cons. More interestingly, camel trips set off into the desert proper nearby from a camp beside the hotel. They go off and, about 3 hours into the desert, they stop and - suddenly, without any warning, in the searing heat - they are surrounded by local entepreneurs on ancient motorcycles offering them moderately cool coca-cola from satchels on their backs. Surreal. One trip had a lot of Germans, most with the steel-rimmed glasses, the phenomally enormous girths and the lantern jaws. Guess I wouldn't want to be a camel with any of those on top. What was it about straws and camel backs ? Where were their hausfraus I wondered ? One in particular amused me. As they moved along, he would rise up as high as he dared, shade his eyes with his hand in the classical manner whilst his gaze would sweep majestically and ever so slowly across the horizon. So very Lawrence of Arabia. So truly impressive.
Anyway, it's taken a long time to get here. In an earlier post I mentioned dowries. Well, here we go. I was told this story by a colleague whilst in the Sahara. Supposedly, it was told to him by a tribesman from the African Rift valley. The more I think about it, I'm convinced it's probably apocryphal but it's a nice story anyway.
An anthropologist went into the Great Rift Valley in Africa towards the end of the 19th Century. He found a semi-nomadic tribe whose life revolved around cattle and, as anthropologists often do, decided to spend time studying their lives, customs and mores. Over a period of time he became accepted into their tribe, learned their language and became familiar with their ways. Eventually, they were so familiar with him that they would tell him things that, otherwise, they would not discuss with anyone else.
He began to notice the routines of their lives. Men herded the cattle, hunted and fought off the predators such as lions. Women cooked, looked after their houses, brought up the children and spent most of their lives around the villages. Children were educated by the older people and played happily together. However, over time, he noticed that the adult males would spend most their time back in the village at night around one or two fires whenever they returned from their herding and hunting duties. They would drink, gamble and spend a lot of time telling stories about their hunting prowess. Eventually, almost reluctantly at times, they would return to their homes. The women, on the other hand, would spend much of their evenings in laughing, raucous groups often deriding their men, telling stories which were, most definitely, not to their husbands' credit.
As time went on the anthropologist noticed that one man, far more frequently than the others would be first to drift away from the camp-fire sessions and then head for his hut. Nothing was ever said. In terms of wealth, the number of cattle owned by each man, he was not the richest but neither was he the poorest by a long way.
He also noticed that that man's wife rarely ever made any negative comments about her husband - if she ever said anything at all. She was, also, amongst the first of the wives to head for her hut at night. He did notice, however, that the other wives often gave her looks which were almost envious. Again, little was said. Of all of the married women she seemed to be the most relaxed and, probably, just about the happiest in the village.
This observation went on for some considerable time with no significant changes. Eventually, he went to the tribesman and asked why his behaviour and that of his wife were so different to the rest of the tribe. At first, the tribesman was very reluctant to discuss it all. Eventually he took the anthropologist back to his hut and they sat down. The wife brought them drinks and then disappeared.
"The problem is dowries." began the tribesman. "Nearly all of the marriages could be predicted from our childhoods. However, to get your wife you need to go to her father and then negotiate how many cattle you will give as a dowry. Most men begin with an offer of about 6 - 9 cattle, according to the beauty of the girl. The father responds that he will not settle for less than 15. Hard bargaining may go on for many days. Eventually, a price of between 10 and 12 cattle is agreed. Naturally, the bride knows what is paid. After all, the wealth is really her's from then onwards"
"When I went to see my wife's father to make my offer, we sat down. He offered me a drink, as is the custom, and waited for my offer. I looked him in the eye and offered him 16 cattle. His jaw dropped and, in that instant I apologised for insulting him with such a poor offer for his daughter who I had longed for as my wife for so many years. I increased my offer to 18 cattle. He sat there, mouth moving but unable to speak. At that point I made the offer I had in mind before ever I went in to see him. I offered him 22 cattle. He swallowed and accepted. It took less than one hour to reach agreement."
"Why," said the anthropologist "when dowries are about 10 - 12 cattle, did you pay that ? 22 cattle are worth so much. You could have negotiated a much smaller dowry and still she would have been your wife."
"True,'" said the tribesman," but you have seen how wives speak about their husbands, showing little respect or affection, even though they always knew they would probably marry those particular men and wanted to. You have seen men who are often reluctant to return to their homes at night even though they always wanted to marry those particular women. Women truly resent being bargained over even though it is the custom. A bride's standing is reflected in the dowry agreed."
"Now, ask yourself some questions. How does my wife feel, knowing her dowry went upwards without hesitation, not down ? Then ask yourself, how must she feel knowing she has the highest dowry ever given in this village ? Think of her standing in this village and finally ask yourself, how does she feel about her husband ?"
