…. in a land far, far away I happened to put my wheels on the hardest rocks I ever experienced. They ran like waves across my path, and it was so dark in the night. I really didn’t know where to go but the car before me led the way with no hesitation and I kept running and running. Bump after bump. Stone after stone. Right in the desert with no way back home.
And finally we stopped. Seemed the middle of nowhere but there was a light. And a warm fire. And a haima. And friendly voices, and salutations, and tea.
So we sat down, drank tea, had food and spent the night talking under the starts.
Oh gosh – how many starts can the sky hold? How many that I could never see before? And they call them different, but they shine alike. So it’s not Pleyads – it’s Thuraya (and so you get where the satellite phone comes from). And it’s not the Milky Way – it’s Road to Santiago (if you’re speaking Spanish) ot Hay Merchants Way (if you’re speaking Arabic).
While we talk, shadows move in the darkness around us but you shall not fear: slowly and gently, these ghosts take the shapes of camels coming back for the night and a bit of food. Mom and Dad are offered fresh camel milk. It’s warm… it’s foamy… it’s good! And then the bread is made. Time to remove much of the hot hashes, put some cold sand on the fireplace, lower the temperature. A flat mass of dough comes out of nowhere and is dropped on the sand, in the fireplace.
All you’ve got to do is cover with other sand, then warm ashes and let it stay. You’ll see ashes rise, the bread is being cooked. And then you take it out, pat it and it’s ready to eat (and no – there’s no sand attached!). Warm, soft, tasty.
Belly is full. Mind is cleared.
What a perfect time to fall asleep…
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