8.25.2009 Watching the Dunes

The dunes outside of Merzouga, at Erg Chebbi, are stunning, really. They appear surprisingly after a long trek through tarmac-like terrain. Turn the A/C onto full power, still the car windows are hot to the touch. We come to Auberge du Sud, this fortress in the sand. The afternoon is beginning to turn in as the tourists arrive with their guides. The desert boys welcome us home.

For me, it feels like home. I love the friendly crowd. The Moroccan guys serve hot mint tea and carrying baggage for travelers from all over the world. We wander into the dunes to share the sunset together, and this is the best time for dancing, exploring; sliding, drawing. Every mark and stroke soon wiped way by the winds.

Or we take a camel trek as the sun begins to dip. I'm surprised how clumsy these giants are, supposedly intended for this terrain. I marvel at their long eyelashes and hold on tight, for the dismount comes quickly and I'm far from the ground!

If only we could collect that sunset like we collect the sand in our shoes and our pockets. I know some days the wind blows harshly here, erasing the sky and scratching our faces; but today is calm and the sunset paints the sky. We've taken off our shoes and are relaxed; laughing and writing our names in Arabic script in the sand.

Later, we return back for a delicious dinner of eggplant pepper salad, beef with soaked figs, and baked chicken with rice, followed by a heaping plate of ripe watermelon. On this visit, we are exhausted, but smartly situated exactly where my family had come so far to see. We were here together, in this strange and wonderful place.

There have been other times I have visited this same place. Once I chatted with a young woman from Barcelona, and a couple from Sweden, as the sounds of the tom toms resonated into the night. The first time, I came only to meet this man I had become curious about. I pretended to have a different name and to have come from a different place. I dodged the travelers and intended to remain elusive in this courtship. Instead betwixt rondevous with this lovely guy, I sat with the cleaning ladies as they washed the sheets and prepared the limismn, the buttery flat Moroccan bread. So much for any hint of mysterious allure…

The uniqueness of the landscape in its remoteness and harsh tranquility lures and creates this space where people are open to share. We swap languages and stories while drinking bottles and bottles of water and Coke, watching out for scorpions, slowing down to keep pace with the winds.