In search of sacred Middle East
Sunday, September 7, 2008
‘‘The beach at Sharm El-Sheikh’s Naama Bay teems with Americans and Europeans. I never thought
I’d see what an Arab gigolo looks like, but here I was shown the half monty. It was a surreal scene.’’
Part II of MAHMOOD SANGLAY’s foray into the lands of Islam from Sinai to Beirut
WE STOPPED at a place called the Well of Musa (upon him peace), a very sparse and impoverished Bedouin village. Dr Zakaria al Sheikh, our tour leader, commenced one of his many lectures under the shade of the blazing afternoon sun. Ninety-six travelers were mesmerised by a narrative told from within the heart of the narrative.
The story of Ibrahim, Lut, Ya'kub, Isma'eel, Ishaq and Musa (upon them peace) was not only heard. It was felt, as the heat and dry air of the desert was felt. We were on the soil of the Prophets.
Bashful young Bedouin girls in hijab emerged from rustic dwellings and invited us to purchase souvenirs. Their colourful goods were displayed on makeshift tables sheltered by canopies of dried palm leaves, rags and commercial cardboard. Reeling from the heat of the desert sun and the profound narrative, I struggled to comprehend how human survival in this small, hardly-an-oasis is possible.
Yet these Bedouins smile with dignity, shine with modesty and glow with good health.
If we do not come with respect and a willingness to support to their humble trade, then we are merely intruders, invading the lives of true people of the soil.
An hour and 25 minutes later we stop at Abu Zenima: arid, isolated and on a national highway. But this site is known for something more disturbing: according to the Association for Safe International Road Travel, Egypt is on the list of twenty-three of the world's most dangerous places in terms of road transport.
Two months prior to our visit a tour bus crashed and claimed the lives of nine tourists on this very road along Abu Zenima. Egypt has a history of serious bus and car accidents due to reckless driving and poor road conditions. At least 8000 people were killed in accidents in 2006 and Sinai is a frequent scene of traffic accidents. In 2006 thirteen people died in a similar crash.
None of this chilling news was known to us. The chill teases my spine now as I recall the terrific speed with which the bus traveled on this road.
The international resort of Sharm el-Sheikh flaunts an air of abandon. Fat Arab security officials populate the grand entrance to the resort. Leisure boats, hotels, gambling dens and, of course, an impressive mosque stand as passports to both pleasure and prayer. The Roman Theatre, Casino Sharm and MacDonalds are among the attractions for diverse ages and tastes.
Meanwhile President Robert Mugabe and other heads of state attend the eleventh session of the assembly of the African Union, a stone's throw away from our Royal Plaza Hotel. Of course, we could not throw stones at the dictator, but apparently a heckler hurled abuse at Mugabe as he alighted from the conference room of the Maritim Sharm El-Sheikh International Congress Center.
The beach at Naama Bay teems with Americans and Europeans. I never thought I'd see what an Arab gigolo looks like, but here I was shown the half monty.
It was a surreal scene once again: a macho, bare-chested young Arab sporting the iconic red Palestinian scarf and a ta'weez (amulet) flirts with topless European girls on the beach. The conversation is casual and no one bats an eyelid. Some of the elders in our tour group grapple to contain their disgust, others their mirth.
This was play time. For those of us who scratched deeper than the veneer, something simmers beneath the play.
The writer is a Cape Town media activist.The Brunei Times
WE STOPPED at a place called the Well of Musa (upon him peace), a very sparse and impoverished Bedouin village. Dr Zakaria al Sheikh, our tour leader, commenced one of his many lectures under the shade of the blazing afternoon sun. Ninety-six travelers were mesmerised by a narrative told from within the heart of the narrative.
The story of Ibrahim, Lut, Ya'kub, Isma'eel, Ishaq and Musa (upon them peace) was not only heard. It was felt, as the heat and dry air of the desert was felt. We were on the soil of the Prophets.
Bashful young Bedouin girls in hijab emerged from rustic dwellings and invited us to purchase souvenirs. Their colourful goods were displayed on makeshift tables sheltered by canopies of dried palm leaves, rags and commercial cardboard. Reeling from the heat of the desert sun and the profound narrative, I struggled to comprehend how human survival in this small, hardly-an-oasis is possible.
Yet these Bedouins smile with dignity, shine with modesty and glow with good health.
If we do not come with respect and a willingness to support to their humble trade, then we are merely intruders, invading the lives of true people of the soil.
An hour and 25 minutes later we stop at Abu Zenima: arid, isolated and on a national highway. But this site is known for something more disturbing: according to the Association for Safe International Road Travel, Egypt is on the list of twenty-three of the world's most dangerous places in terms of road transport.
Two months prior to our visit a tour bus crashed and claimed the lives of nine tourists on this very road along Abu Zenima. Egypt has a history of serious bus and car accidents due to reckless driving and poor road conditions. At least 8000 people were killed in accidents in 2006 and Sinai is a frequent scene of traffic accidents. In 2006 thirteen people died in a similar crash.
None of this chilling news was known to us. The chill teases my spine now as I recall the terrific speed with which the bus traveled on this road.
The international resort of Sharm el-Sheikh flaunts an air of abandon. Fat Arab security officials populate the grand entrance to the resort. Leisure boats, hotels, gambling dens and, of course, an impressive mosque stand as passports to both pleasure and prayer. The Roman Theatre, Casino Sharm and MacDonalds are among the attractions for diverse ages and tastes.
Meanwhile President Robert Mugabe and other heads of state attend the eleventh session of the assembly of the African Union, a stone's throw away from our Royal Plaza Hotel. Of course, we could not throw stones at the dictator, but apparently a heckler hurled abuse at Mugabe as he alighted from the conference room of the Maritim Sharm El-Sheikh International Congress Center.
The beach at Naama Bay teems with Americans and Europeans. I never thought I'd see what an Arab gigolo looks like, but here I was shown the half monty.
It was a surreal scene once again: a macho, bare-chested young Arab sporting the iconic red Palestinian scarf and a ta'weez (amulet) flirts with topless European girls on the beach. The conversation is casual and no one bats an eyelid. Some of the elders in our tour group grapple to contain their disgust, others their mirth.
This was play time. For those of us who scratched deeper than the veneer, something simmers beneath the play.
The writer is a Cape Town media activist.The Brunei Times
Business Besides Oil
