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A Desert Trek Across The Sahara Of Tunisia
There’s something about the desert -- monochromatic yet shadowed and seemingly endless. Patterns made in the sand by the oncoming sandstorm mesmerize me. Fortunately, Mohammed, the camel driver who leads the bizarre-looking beast I sit astride, is paying attention to where the one-humped camel is going.
Nothing as far as I can see in any direction, other than the clothes Mohammed and I are wearing, is machine-made. The camel’s so-called saddle consists of two short planks of wood held together by strands of brightly-colored cotton, a far cry from the finely tanned leather I got used to when I rode horses. I see sand moving in what looks like waves below my stirruped feet. This is my dream that keeps repeating. This is how I remember a visit to the Sahara Desert.
Stepping away from what I take for granted as "normal" turned out to be thought-provoking. How often, I ask myself, do I get off the carousel known as U.S. city living and think about something as seemingly simple -- but in reality as complex -- as a desert?
Tunisia by Bus, South to the Desert
Traveling through Tunisia by bus made it possible to appreciate vast stretches of nothing but sand. With each roll of the wheels, the familiar (at least for me) receded. In the towns there is sophistication in architecture and religion derived from North African and Arabic tribesmen as well as French and Spanish colonizers.
In the villages, life is in many ways quite primitive: Shops or stalls along the road and in markets that sell meat “advertise” their wares by hanging part of an animal’s carcass such as a camel’s head or a sheep’s skin, often still bloody, from a high hook. Women carry sacks of grain on their heads, while children herd goats, donkeys pull carts, camels graze alongside the road and men spend hours sitting in open-air cafes sipping coffee or mint tea.
Connections to my world get more tenuous as I head south into the desert. Since I do not speak Arabic, French (which I do speak, badly) is the only way I can converse with the Tunisians. I can’t call home because I can’t get a telephone connection. There are no newspapers. Television in the hotels where I stay, unlike the homes with satellite dishes, does not work. Or, at best, offers only channels in Arabic which I do not speak. Is connectivity over-rated I ask myself? Have I landed on another planet?
As if to validate this notion, the bus driver stops at a small canyon near Chott El Jerid. That’s where the "Star Wars 1: the Phantom Menace" scene with poor little R2 D2 being ambushed by the Jawas was shot. Further along the road, at Tatouine, in western Tunisia, are the “slave quarters.” These multi-story caves (created by those Hollywood wizards who are so good at making fake look real) are piled on top of one another. Kids will be fascinated to get a glimpse of the staircase that reaches those at the highest level. None of the caves has a door so it’s all rather spooky, but that’s the point.
Also en route south is the town of Douz, a sleepy place except on Thursdays, when the camel market is held. The buying and selling of camels is a colorful and pungent scene, as camels tend to smell badly.
It is also the locale of the annual Douz Festival, sometimes called the Sahara Festival, held most years in November or December. Some Tunisians think that as many as 50,000 of their countrymen, living in Tunisia and overseas, attend. The four-day event is also a time when tradition-bound Tunisian fathers look for suitable husbands for their daughters. Not yet a tourist attraction, the festival is almost a century old and includes camel races, dancing, and shows of horsemanship known as “fantasias.” Everyone dresses in colorful native costumes for this unique celebration.
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