A Sahara weekend

If I can describe my trip using a song title, it would Kanye West’s “Stronger” especially the line "what doesn’t kill me only makes me stronger.” Whatever possessed me to go on a weekend road trip with undergrads, plus one very cocky and obnoxious Army veteran. (while all the other grad students in our residence made a day trip to Rabat last Saturday, sigh) But to make the long story short, sleeping under a canopy of twinkling stars in the Sahara desert was well worth it – though don’t count on me going back at any other time during my lifetime.

The fourteen of us left Fes at half past twelve last Friday noon. We started the eight hour drive and the Army guy (his name is David) has a very annoying way of making his presence felt throughout the ride, lecturing us about Iraq, the U.S. health care system, etc. A couple in front of me looked like they just wanted to make out any time and I was sandwiched at the back with two nice if not quiet Notre Dame guys, Sam and Ryan. My main beef was that nobody seems to want food – real food. We made several stopovers at convenience stores for chips and ice cream but not a real café or restaurant. When we got to our hotel in Merzouga it was already around half past ten in the evening. First of all, the hotel wasn’t really a hotel. We also ended up waiting for an hour more before dinner was served. More importantly, the airconditioning was negligible and the shower in our room wasn’t working. And we had to switch rooms because of various problems, and I ended up bunking with two Harvard sophomores one of whom still didn’t want to sleep at one in the morning and was trying to find people interested in drinking. I just fell asleep due to sheer exhaustion regardless of the warm air around me.

In the morning, we had breakfast of bread and various jams, and then we proceeded to go to the nearest souk. It was twelve noon and the noonday sun was blazing hot. Maybe about forty-five degrees or more. My personality almost always makes a grumpy transformation when it’s hot, and I’m hungry. And it was super hot and I was starving so I had no interest in shopping for souvenirs when I was continuously dripping with sweat. We were prepared for this kind of weather though – I had long-sleeved shirt on to avoid sunburn and a scarf wrapped around my head and face. Problem is, that kind of outfit only added to the heat. Two hours later, we went back to the hotel and people just chilled out by chatting about whatever stuff undergrads talk about. I was writing on my journal how miserable I was and how I regretted coming. When six pm came, it was time to ride the camel to the desert.

They were waiting like this infront of our hotel.

Let me just say that I was dreading the two-hour camel ride before this but then it actually turned out really okay. A caravan of four camels each was led by a guide. When we got to the Berber encampment two hours later, they welcomed us with mint tea and then we spent the next hour frolicking on the dunes around the camp. Dinner was chicken tagine (which was excellent) and harira soup (which was tasteless). And then our Berber hosts entertained us with singing, dancing, playing drums and lots of funny jokes around a nightlamp until about half past eleven in the evening. Since I was the token Asian of the group – always mistaken for Japanese though I don’t really know why – they tried to make me sing Chinese songs. They were, of course, unsuccessful. We decided against staying up late since we were supposed to wake up at six in the morning the following day, Sunday. We put out the mattresses in the middle of the camp and slept. For about fifteen minutes though, I just stared at the stars above me in the nighttime sky, while the moon peeked from behind a well-placed cloud. The scene was almost surreal. I couldn’t believe that I was actually there. That feeling certainly eased off the troubles involved getting to that point. Our hosts woke us up the next morning and we immediately ran towards the dunes and just took lots of pictures. I walked around and speechlessly marveled at the feel of the cool golden brown sand under my feet and the breathtaking scenery all around me.

I took this picture of the encampment from an elevated dune.

We stayed up and about until the sun rose a few minutes later and then we had breakfast of bread, cheese and jams again. We rode the camel back for two hours or so, just in time as the heat of the sun was starting to be oppressive at around half past nine in the morning. The ride home was less painful, if only because at least I knew I was heading back. I was looking forward to a refreshing bath at home and fresh clean clothes. And a working electric fan in my room.

Anyhow, so it was a good experience overall. I proved that I am resilient enough, though I also learned an important lesson of doing stuff you like your way. I also learned that I am an adult graduate student with a preference for mature conversation topics (except that I chime in whenever they sing Taylor Swift songs) and that I don’t really wish I can go back to being an undergrad. Where I am right now is perfect. I just have to make the most out of it.