The politics of camels

For the past 60 years, this has been the largest camel market in Egypt and the final destination for Sudanese traders crossing the border. Covering eight feddans, the dusty market fences in herds of camels that will be sold off to dealers from all over Egypt. The market has also become a tourist attraction, where foreigners and urban residents can come and enjoy the animals' company -- that is, until they are sold off to pursue more serious business.

Today, however, tense relations between Egypt and the Sudan as well as the wave of armed Islamist attacks in Upper Egypt have left their toll on the market. "Business is not what it used to be because of the difficulties faced at the border by the herders. We hardly get any tourists because of the recent terrorist operations. Both these things are no good for our trade," explained Mohamed Badawi, the market sheikh.

In a few shabby rooms off to one side, six veterinarians issue the necessary medical papers and identification cards. Badawi points out a mark branded on the back leg of one of the beasts. "See here... the 'H' is for 'hospital', indicating he has been through the medical check." He pulls out a worn booklet which lists the letters used in the branding process and their meaning. Each camel is sold with an identical booklet issued by the Ministry of Agriculture which includes its state of health, age and place of origin. The latter can also be identified by a specialist through the marks with which each tribe brands its herd.

Thirty-six tribes come from the Sudan to trade, and each is allotted a specific area within the market. Grand men in white galabiyas and turbans huddle on straw mats around trays of tea and discuss prices, while lean young herders roam about the camels. "There is Ahmed Hemeid, from Kasala," says the sheikh, "and there are the people who come from the south of Sudan." At the market, however, northern and southern Sudanese, as well as the Egyptians who join the herders on the southern border, all dress alike, talk each other's dialects and seem very much at home together. "Here, we are one family," spells out Sheikh Ahmed, the head of the Rashayda tribes of northern Sudan. "All this talk of two peoples does not exist in our trade. We have intermarried and we keep homes on both sides of the border."

The herds that have not been sold off stand to one corner and can be identified by the fact that all their legs are free. When a camel is sold off, it is moved to an area allotted to the new buyer. One of the animal's front legs is then tied up with a piece of rope and a wooden peg, known as the key, to keep it from running back to its herd.

According to the herders, a good camel is characterised by a big hump and sturdy bones. Strong -- if not attractive -- teeth are exhibited, a wave of the stick near the animal's face is meant to prove good eyesight, and a few screams are emitted to annoy the animal, proving that it also possesses a good ear.

The bigger ones are sold for farming. Selim, who is buying camels to sell in Minya, points out that "a good camel can carry up to half a ton. We can keep more land for planting, because we do not have to pave roads to get trucks into the far fields. Also, a camel can go for up to three months without water, which proves it is a very strong animal." The smaller beasts, on the other hand, usually go to the slaughterhouse. "They can be cooked like chickens," claims Badawi.

Sheikh Ahmed comes to Darraw five to six times a year, bringing three or four herds -- rasayel (messages) -- each time. "We have about four people with every herd, and we come by the east route, which takes 20 days," he explains. It is not all smooth sailing, however. "Because our shepherds are no longer allowed to cross the border, the camels have to be given over to the Egyptian herders who do not know the animals that well. They [the camels] fall ill as a result and are not as profitable," explained the sheikh. He recounts that several of his shepherds have also died on their way back home. "It is difficult to make the trip back and forth with no rest."

Some have an even worse time. Traders coming from Al-Fasher through the Darb Al-Arba'in (Forty Days' Road), actually have to travel for 45 to 60 days. "After this very difficult trip we have to stop at the border in Argin for up to a week, which costs us about LE1,700 to feed and water the animals," explains Mohamed as he pulls out a tin of tobacco and starts chewing slowly. "Ever since the Addis Ababa incident, they stopped admitting camels every day at Argin. Now they only let us in once a week, so it has slowed us down and of course it is very bad for the camels because the facilities are no good."

By now a sizable group of both Sudanese and Egyptian traders and shepherds have gathered. All nod sympathetically and voice their distress at the present situation. "It is bad for business," several people call out, adding: "We want good relations, and unity between our countries."

Politics aside, if you are in Aswan, a morning visit to the market is definitely worth your while. There will be plenty of friendly chatter and small cups of sweet tea -- but watch out for those teeth!