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Al-Ahram Weekly 21 - 28 January 1999 Issue No. 413 
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Published in Cairo by AL-AHRAM established in 1875 |
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Al-Ahram Weekly 21 - 28 January 1999 Issue No. 413
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| Published in Cairo by AL-AHRAM established in 1875 |
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Egypt Region International Focus Economy Opinion Culture Features Living Travel Sports People Time Out Chronicles Cartoons Letters 
Sinai's springs and sands
By Randa ShaathOur group of six left Sharm Al-Sheikh in the early afternoon and headed inland, only to be stopped at the last checkpoint just outside Nuweiba. The policemen gave us a hard time and wanted us to go into the town to get a permit from the tourist police for the foreign members of the party. Was this to be another of those inevitable hassles with the authorities? Fortunately not. Our friend Eid, a Bedouin of the Tarabin tribe who had invited us on the trip, went into Nuweiba and got us the permit.
Some two hours later we finally left the road, a little disappointed that it was getting dark and we couldn't enjoy the view. By the time we reached the farm belonging to Eid's brother Ibrahim, it would have been pitch black but for a sliver of moon shining over the hills, sand dunes and lofty trees.
We set up camp, pitching our tents and laying out sleeping bags while our host prepared libbah for our dinner. This is the king of Bedouin bread, made of dark wheat, water and salt. The paste is rolled flat and buried in the sand with hot coals placed on top. It is turned over once, then tapped on to test when it is ready; well baked, not a grain of sand sticks to it. We ate it with a vegetable stew cooked over the fire, followed by Bedouin tea made with a sweet-flavoured herb, habaq.
In the desert you wake up at sunrise, or a little after if the flies don't disturb you. Tom had baked a chocolate cake and coffee and tea were on the fire. Ibrahim sparked the motor charged with the task of pumping underground water into a nearby pool and we enjoyed our morning baths of fresh cold water.
Oases are usualy associated with the Western Desert but, as these photos show, bedouin hospitality can also be found in central Sainai photos: Randa Shaath The Ain Umm Ahmed oasis never lacks water: a replenishing spring flows from a narrow creek between two mountains. Each household has its own pump to draw ground water for use in cooking and irrigation and for drinking and bathing.
We walked to the spring, passing land cultivated with palm, olive, lemon and fig trees as well as mulberries, cipher and acacia, mint, basil, tomatoes and a multitude of vegetables. Two Bedouin girls followed us, displaying their wares of colourful beaded bracelets, rings, belts and ornaments.
After walking among the trees for half an hour we heard the sweet tinkle of spring water. We came to a lush, deserted glade. Birds flew close to the water. The peace was absolute.
Later a young Bedouin appeared and invited us to his house for tea. We politely declined as we were anxious to continue our walk, and he vanished into the rocks.
Back at camp we took a cool bath before preparing lunch. Ibrahim and a friend were at work preparing another kind of bread, farrasheeh, also made of dark wheat but this time thinly spread over a concave piece of metal and baked directly in the fire. The result is a large thin bread with holes. The taste almost beats that of libbah. We made tuna fish salad and added fresh mint from the garden.
After tea another group of friends arrived, still in city mode, cars blaring loud rock music and bodies fatigued after the long drive. But after a bath in the spring water we rested on rugs laid on the sand beneath a mulberry tree and a sense of peace overwhelmed us.
Ein Abu Salem at around 80 is the oldest man in the oasis. When we visited him he offered us tea, recited verses of his poetry, and told us all about the oasis. At the top of a hill he showed us the remains of gravestones believed to date from the bronze age. Apparently ancient documents used to be buried in the area until the Israelis removed them during their occupation of Sinai.
That night's dinner, eaten under the stars, was barbecued meat and chicken accompanied by potatoes baked in the coals.
The following morning we lingered over a breakfast of eggs and cheese and made plans for our final afternoon.
Some of us climbed a hill to a small sweet-water spring to collect water for tea. We drove the jeep as far up the wadi as possible and then clambered up huge rocks, with me wondering how we would get safely down holding large jerry cans of water. In the spring lay a large dead scorpion, so as a precaution we disposed of the first scoop of water and then filled the cans.
Our trip was drawing to a close. Our last meal was teriyaki chicken with mushrooms and rice. We washed the dishes, collected the rubbish to be burnt and took a last swim in the pool. Ibrahim gave us ripe dates for our journey back.
As we left the valley we looked back at the vast sand dunes, the coral-like formations of rock and a plateau of red stone sparkling with white sand and dotted with greenery. We had a brief moment of panic when one of our four-wheel drives stopped and almost slid back down the sleep slope but our handyman, Eid, sorted out the problem and we were soon off again. We reached the road just before sunset.
