Aliya of Bahariya

The Art of Riding Camels

As the early morning progresses, there isn't much to do. I keep a running tally of the number of cups of tea that Musa drinks. I mostly lie on my back in the tent, staring at nothing, trying to think about nothing.

I hear some commotion. Interested in what people around me are doing, I lift up my head, but of course I see nothing. I look at Musa.

"What's that about?" I ask.

Musa seems distracted with a book, and barely looks up. "Oh, oh, well, it's just some of the men going to scope things out." He murmurs.

"Scope what things out?"

"Tracks, prints from animals." He responds, turning back to the previous page in his book and briefly checking something.

I think about his reply, but still I don't have a clear image of what they're doing. "What kinds of animals? I saw the skeleton of a big camel back in the desert."

Musa clears his throat. "Lions perhaps."

"I don't understand." I say, frowning.

He puts his hand in the book, on the page he's reading, and looks up. "They are going out to see what kinds of animals perhaps came in the night, to see if there might be any danger. If there are lion tracks, for example, we would know that one or more came in the night, which is a threat. Then, we will be cautious when traveling, as we would have the knowledge that a lion might be close by."

"Ah." I remember lions, and once again feel grateful for the men who stood watch and will now go check for dangerous animals. "They better take their spears."

"Undoubtedly they will." He is quite absorbed by his book. I would ask him what it is, but I don't think he is wishing to be interrupted.

I sigh and roll on my side, then sit up, wondering when we might be leaving. Everybody seems to have something to do, except me. Fathima isn't even in the tent, she took Aisha out not long ago. I stepped out of the tent only to feel very intimidated and slunk back with the understanding that there isn't anything for me to do.  

"Is something the matter?" Musa asks quietly.

"Oh," I respond, a little embarrassed that my boredom translated to my behaviour, "I was only wondering if maybe someone should show me how to ride a camel before we leave."

Musa begins to chuckle, which turns into a laugh. Eventually he says, "Oh... Don't worry too much. I will show you how to get on, and once she is moving all you really have to do is sit there."

I look at him, taken aback. Why did he immediately begin to laugh if I shouldn't worry? My original feelings of slight fear are heightened because of Musa's reaction. I cross my arms, suddenly a little indignant and needing a distraction. "What are you reading?"

"Narrations of the sayings of the Prophet, sallallahu alayhi wa salam, which are called the Hadith." He says it casually.

I drop my arms out of their crossed position. Why do all of the answers to my questions turn into three more questions? I frown a little, and don't ask him anything else, then flop back down.

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When the sun has not quite fully risen, but is providing enough light, and the caravan becomes relatively packed up and well on it's way to resume the journey, Musa takes me to Jairo.

"Now, try not to be intimidated. You are perfectly capable of riding a camel. You might even have the knowledge already, and you simply cannot remember! I, in fact, can almost promise that you are skilled in this area. So, discard your fears, because once you're sitting atop Jairo you will feel silly that you ever felt such a thing!"