Excerpt



Sam looked questioningly at Abby and she nodded for him to turn off the main road. He followed a narrow track beside a clump of trees where a Bedouin was walking. The man wore a long black robe edged in gold and a bright red and white headdress held in place by a doubled black rope.

Sam stopped beside the man and Abby asked in Arabic,

"Would you like to ride?"

As the Bedouin turned toward them, Lisa saw a dagger fastened to his belt. She shrank back in her seat with a whispered, "Oh no! I'm glad I'm in the front. There's no room."

Hoping the man had not heard her negative comment, Peter quickly offered, "There's room right here for you. Please join us." He moved closer to Colin and motioned for the man to take his vacated seat.

"Thank you. I'm going to my home beyond those hills," the Bedouin answered in English. He climbed into the back beside Peter, who was charmed by the stranger and smiled a friendly welcome.

Megan was quiet, awed and a bit apprehensive. Her thoughts raced as she glanced sideways at him. She had heard wild stories about the Arab nomads of the desert. She wondered what this one was like. What would he do? Could he be trusted? She was curious to see what the Bedouins were like, but now that one was right here, she was not sure how she felt. Why the dagger in his belt? What would he use it for? How dangerous might he prove to be?

Cindy calmly decided that if Abby was willing to risk picking up this stranger, she had no right to question such a decision. At any rate, there were four strong men in the van who would react immediately to protect the women. Not to worry. Wait patiently and see what will happen. This may very well turn out to be an experience to treasure.

Lisa's lips were clamped together in a tight line, a frown wrinkling her forehead. She was ready to jump out and run at the least sign of trouble. She turned to stare at the stranger and was on the point of offering her usual negative comments when Peter recognized her intention and quickly spoke up.

"I'm Peter. What is your name?"

"My name is Musa. It means 'Moses' in English," the young Bedouin answered. He asked Sam to bear left along a road deep in sand. The van slowed down to a crawl. Sam shifted into low gear. The wheels churned, whirling dust into thick piles on the windows. Sam could not see anything ahead and turned on the windshield wipers. Dust invaded the van and they all coughed and tried not to breathe it in. Their hair and eyelashes were covered with it.

Megan giggled, "Colin, you have gray hair!"

"So do you!" teased Cindy, "and Andrew does too."

"We all have. We look like clowns!" Megan was laughing so hard she nearly fell off the seat. Her merriment was infectious and everyone joined in except Lisa. She was holding a tissue in front of her nose and mouth, and meticulously brushing herself off.

The deep sand eventually gave way to solid ground. They bumped and jolted over ruts and around stones and bushes. At last the young man pointed to a group of tents and asked Sam to stop in front of a large one.

"Please come in and have coffee," Moses urged. It was the Bedouin way of expressing gratitude by saying, 'thank you for the ride,' their customary offer of payment for such a debt.

An elderly bearded man appeared and welcomed the guests with a smile. Moses introduced him, "This is my father, and he said, 'my home is your home.'" He took off his shoes before entering the tent, so the group followed his example and removed theirs. Lisa balked at the indignity but finally succumbed to custom and slipped off her sandals.

The old man motioned for them to sit on foam rubber mattresses covered with bright flowered cloth. A woman emerged from the back of the tent and warmly greeted the ladies with a kiss on both cheeks. She brought big fat pillows like bolsters for them to lean on and relax.

Cindy was fascinated with the woman's black, colorfully embroidered dress, like the one Megan bought in the Beersheba market. Her white veil had tiny flowers threaded through it. Tattoo marks decorated her forehead and chin. Her ears were heavy with silver rings and her left nostril was pierced with a large, thin gold hoop bearing a wide dangling ornament. How would she ever eat, with that huge nose-ring hanging down in front of her mouth? She's probably used to dealing with the obstacle and it's no problem, Cindy decided.

"Please meet my mother. And my brothers and sisters," Moses added as several children appeared and shyly stole glances at the guests.

"Tell us their names," Megan suggested.

"I'm the oldest. There is Samia, then Karim, Rafiq, Sammar and Shakar. Not all of them are here. My mother had eleven children. When she had no more, my father took a second wife. She has twelve. Now he teases both wives by saying he is hunting for a third. This is how he keeps them obedient."

"That's a big family to support," said Andrew.

"A Muslim must be able to take care of his family. Each wife lives in a separate tent. The others in this camp belong to his brothers and their families. As the sons mature, we help with chores, shepherding, and expenses. A famous sheikh from our tribe, during his lifetime, had a total of forty-one wives and three hundred children."