Desert Safari and Sand Dune Bashing Blog # 4

Desert Safari and Sand Dune Bashing

February 24 & 25

Today we set off for our desert safari camping. We stop on the way in Brikat Al Mauz to view the ancient Oman irrigation system developed by the Persians in the 16-century that have been maintained and are still used today. Getting water in Oman is important because sometimes it doesn't rain for 1 or 2 years. While camels can last for 4-5 weeks on the dessert without water and Acacia plants survive with green leaves everywhere... Arabs apparently do not. Amazing irrigation systems have been developed to get water transported to terraced gardens high in the mountains and drinking water is trucked in to villages to fill round white water towers, which sit on their roofs like clouds in the startling clear blue sky.

Just opposite the irrigation system passing a mosque is a graveyard.  It consists of slices of thin limestone rocks perched rather precariously in the ground... 3 for a woman, 2 for a man and 1 for a child. The same rocks are used whether the person was rich or poor. The rocks won’t last very long. 

Our guide, Don, explains that bodies have to be buried within 24 hours, women aren't allowed at the graveyard and once buried no one visits these graves again. Good byes to deceased family members occur in the privacy of the home and after a week of grieving life moved on.  Don becomes philosophical telling us the way funerals are conducted in Sri Lanka with embalming so families can view the body for a few days and then cremation. According to his Buddhist faith he explains in the cycle of life all humans normally will suffer pain due to difficulties with greed and lust but each person must strive to be a better person and be less materialistic in order to get to Nirvana with a vision of the future. We listen soaking up the wisdom of this man's perspective.

The landscape we view begins to change from gravel desert with areas of oases surrounded by palm trees eventually to reddish fine sand, true rolling sand dunes 100-150 meters high - which seem to flow like waves with corridors and valleys. The Wahibe sands are said to be the largest desert expense in the Middle East (180 kilometers north to south & 80 kilometers east to west). 

Don stops to remove some air from the tires of his land rover and tells us we are about to go dune bashing so wants to be sure our seat belts are on. He drives aggressively straight up the sand hillsides over the peaks and down into valleys. It felt like our car should turn over any minute - certainly it would have in a regular car. I ask Don if he ever turned a car over. No he said because he is experienced and besides he has special bars placed in the car ceiling for protection if this happens! This warm, gentle, Buddhist philosophical man suddenly is infused with energy and as he floors the car pedal surfs up and down the sand hills. All at once the car got stuck.. it is not unlike being stuck in snow - the more he pushes the pedal, the more we sink into the sand.  We can smell the burning of the car clutch and eventually he gets out and starts digging out sand from under the tires. Stuck in the middle of sand dunes with no one in sight I envision being out here all night and think this is may be where I end my life. Perspiring and looking a little frantic but staying calm, Don tells us not to worry. Eventually with persistence he prevails and we are off again dune bashing with delight.

Desert Camp

Eventually we arrive at our desert camp safely.  There are only 12 of us at this camp and we have dinner talking with a couple from Amsterdam who ask us if we believe that 9/11 was really an American conspiracy? Also they tell us that Americans landing on the moon first was just a Hollywood movie hype and not true. At sunset we sit on the top of the sand dunes watching the sun go down and think we have arrived in Nirvana. John confesses he wasn’t sure about this desert camp idea when he booked it but is really glad we came here. We are happy. We sleep in a barasti hut, which has no electricity, but we do have a toilet although there is no toilet seat. As a result in the night I hear John peeing outside our hut and ask him why he is doing this? He tells me he is trying to keep the toilet dry for me to sit on.  But there is no seat!

The next morning Don says we need to experience a professional dune basher. We met Zahill, a 23-year-old Bedouin who owns 40 goats and a few camels. He is very handsome with his dark, long hair, hooked nose and wears the traditional white and red turban and white dishdasha. He takes some more air out of our car's tires. For the next 2 hours we are dune bashing... he does not put on a seat belt, the gas empty sign is lit up and he turns up the Arab music. This is a bit like being on a fairground roller coaster only there are no tracks and the machine operator is deliberately unpredictable and erratic. His first smile at me (sitting in the front seat) is when he knows he has scared us. I ask Zahill if he has ever gone over in the car. . and Don translates that he has sometimes but tries to reassure us that Zahill is experienced at this, having started to learn dune bashing when he was 7 years old. Experience is everything he says.  For Bedouins no rules apply on these sand dunes whose lifestyle is incredibly harsh and dependent on nature. I ask myself if we are ridiculously stupid to put our lives in the hands of an unknown, 23-year-old Bedouin Arab man and a Buddhist Sir Lanka man.. or just trusting of these lovely people who don’t have us sign a contract they aren’t responsible.

Bedouin People

After dune bashing we visit a genuine Bedouin camp, isolated in the desert and surrounded with herds of goats and camels. The bathroom consists of a cement block room with tiles inside and a hole in the floor but no toilet paper. . why did I forget toilet paper? Here there is no running water or electricity. How do these people survive? John says they can’t live here all year and believes this is just for tourists. The Bedouin are no longer nomadic because their children are required to go to school. They have trucks and can pick up their water in the nearby village and make a living herding goats, selling camels and selling carpets or trinkets.  Inside their tent-like structure it is beautiful..the floors are covered in oriental rugs and colorful pillows surround all the walls. They serve us coffee, dates and the traditional candy dish. Don tells us they live here all year long. We don’t know how they can manage the summer heat in the desert.

There is a rather large and well-fed grandmother who married at age 14 sitting on the floor wearing a black burka mask and brightgreen jaba. After putting a burka face mask on me and a head scarf she agrees to be photographed with me. Her 32-year-old daughter is doing math homework with her daughter who is in 3^rd grade. She understands a little English and clearly wants her daughter to be successful with her homework. She tells her daughter she has done a math problem wrong. There are 5-6 other children in the tent and a young teenage lad. I’m not sure whose children these are but likely the mother’s.  She paints a henna flower on my leg.. and tells me not to wash it for a day.  I wonder if it will come off eventually.

Getting a henna flower on my leg 

These people seem gentle and friendly – wonderful hosts. I am told that Bedouins and Oman people in general are trustworthy and honest. Don says you don’t need to lock your doors – Oman is one of the safest countries in the world. Again our preconceptions and beliefs are wrong.

Carolyn