Heading Into The Sahara Desert
Morocco
July 2008
After a day and a half on the road, we are anxious to arrive
at the desert. There are 13 of us; most
of us are strangers to each other. With
the first visible grain of sand, we ask if we are there yet. Are we at the
Sahara? Mohammed, our guide, can’t seem to understand why we don’t know the
difference between where we are now and the desert. “it’s just the road to the desert,” he tells
us. Our ignorance and excitement exhaust
him.
Off in the distance is a tent made of heavy blankets. We
stopped there and Mohammed tells us we are now in the desert. But now we do not
need him to tell as we know immediately when the air hits us. The difference in
temperature from our last stop is dramatic. The thermometer reads 44°C/ 124° F.
It feels as if I’ve been has been shoved in oven. As I inhale air, my lungs are scorched.
We are greeted by a handsome man who is invites us inside
his tent of 90°F and that is a relief. We are serve tea but I would have
preferred an ice cold bottle water. all the water I have with me at the moment
is warm. After a few minutes, we are instructed to get back on the bus and we
are reluctant to go back out into that intense sun.
We arrive at the lodge and are told to pack for the night. We
are encouraged to have four liters of water each. We bring our toothbrush,
camera, sun lotion and head wraps but not much more. Mohammed helps each of us
put our head wraps on. We laugh with excitement. Someone comes up with a tray
of hot tea. And then out of the corner my eyes I see a caravan of camels. They
are tied to each other and they slowly walked towards us. We laugh with
excitement and check and recheck that our head wraps are secure. The blazing
sun reduces our confidence and increases our vulnerability. It is now time to
get on the camels and I go first. These camels have one hump, saddle packs and
a metal handle bar. They’re much more tourist friendly then the camels I road
in Mongolia. So I hop on this, with a bit more confidence that I should have.
But that confidence is short-lived. As soon as the camel gets up on his first
set of hind legs, I am dangling headfirst. I want to get off. I try not to
scream in fear as I do not want anyone to see how pathetic I am. Once
completely up I feel little bit better but I can’t move myself to get
comfortable. I’m too afraid to squirm too much. I don’t want to fall off. I hold on for dear life while the two Mexican
brothers sit on their camels with such ease, it makes me jealous.
We ride for about two hours through the desert. Most the the
time another caravan joins us so there are about 30 of us. We are in a
slow-moving procession. As I looked back at one time, a few camels are on the
top of the small dune. The sun is beginning to set and the composition would
make a gorgeous photo. But I am too afraid to get my camera out. I don’t want
to move around too much for feel of sliding off. Hopefully someone else will
get that photo and I’ll just get a copy.
From a distance I see something black. At first I thought it
was a large black trash bag. As we get closer, I see that we have arrived at camp.
Our camp consists of a dozen black blankets all roped together and propped by
long branches to make an enclosed shelter. That’s it. There is no water, no
outhouse, nothing.
We are helped off the camels and I begin to sing the Billy
Crystal song “Rolling, rolling rolling; my big fat ass is swollen”. I am sore
and wobbly. And as I walk, I try in vain to avoid the multitude of camel droppings.
It’s a shame these droppings can’t be used as fuel because we would no longer
have a world shortage of energy if we could convert these droppings.
As we walked to the tent I see someone at the top of the dune.
It is a small boy who looks to be about 14-year-old. He walked from the lodge
and is carrying our dinner. I can no more imagine any mother in United States
along her son to go off the desert by himself. But here comes Mohammed, with
all the food to feed 15 of us.
One of the guides brings out a large red blanket and some
pillows and several of us just collapse there. Others find the energy to run
off and climb the dunes. I stay with the collapsed group. The guides bring out
drums and play for us and they sing and dance. We quiz them on creatures of the
night. Yes, there will be scorpions but they do not bite. Yes, there are large
beetles and other bugs. I mention that I saw a field my mouse. I am told that
it was a kangaroo rat. I prefer a mouse over a rat. but regardless the sight of
the mouse/ rat put a damper on the moment for me. I don’t want to be near
either of them.
The sun goes down which cools the hot air. The sky is pitch
black, really, really dark. But there were millions of stars. There is a slight
sandy wind. I have grains of sand in my teeth, eyes and nose. There are no
night sounds. The camels are quiet. I am in the Sahara Desert. It doesn’t get
any better than this.
