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for a woman to stay faithful to the memory of her husband. So, she
had one day packed her things then Djaliil and her had followed a
man from Tihaama. Love had grown in the marriage. Djaliil had but
a profound respect for the man who had proved to be of the kindest
type. He further explained that arranged marriages were not that
common in the Bedouins' camps. Most of the time men and women
knew already each other. They had met either during the yearly
festivals or had talked to each other on their way to pasture or while
working at the well. Parents closed their eyes as long as the
meetings were done in public and the limits of decency were not
overridden. Of course, no extra-marital relationships were tolerated
and all respected and feared Allah. As Djaliil was talking, I
wondered if the woman who had been in the hawdaj earlier could
have come just for visiting or for getting married. If I looked closely,
the atmosphere of the camp looked very festive, much more actually
than I would have imagined. From time to time, men watched the
horizon as if waiting for something of somebody. I reckon that I was
not disappointed in my guesses.
In the far away, a traveler was slowly making his way towards us.
At first, him and his ride had looked like a quivering flame, but,
progressively, they had taken a definite shape. I could now clearly
see them ascending and descending slopes of sands even if I lost
sight of them at regular intervals. Finally, the man stopped his camel
next to the hawdaj and checked it carefully. And what is she was
here with us, in the same tent, with the other women? The prospect
fascinated me. Could she be a member of Djaliil's family? I
suddenly remembered how the boy had kept back all along the trail,
as if he wanted to keep an eye on the woman. The traveler
appeared almost instantly crossing the last few yards that separated
him from us. A bird of prey was standing on his wrist, spreading its
wings for balance as the man walked. At this sight, our host sprung
to his feet joyfully and greeted him, saying, half joking:
“Whoso travels a road in search of religious knowledge will be
lead to the Gardens. His superiority over the ordinary man is as that
of the full moon over all the stars.”
And would I be that man?" said the newcomer.
"Insha Allah," responded the host, soon followed by a few others.
Djaliil bent towards me and said: "This is my second grandfather,
from the side of my mother."
I did not know if this man was an ascetic or a scholar, but truly this
new guest was glowing with sparkling lights coming from his white
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teeth, his white face and his beard. He really inspired a man of faith.
The men hugged each other firmly.
After that, women laid the table on the ground and busied themselves
with the rest of the evening meal preparations, helped by a few men
of the family. The sun had already set and men and women had
performed their prayers, but a thin ray of dying sunlight still filtered on
the horizon like under the door of the night. The meal consisted of
spiced rice and chicken fried with cooked raisins on top. The recipe
was traditional and delicious, so delicious that it kept the assembly
silent while we were eating.
When our bellies where two thirds full according to the Islamic
practice, we stopped, and our host directed our attention towards the
falconer. Pride and love were clearly see in his eyes and words. He
did not try to conceal them and spoke freely to all men of his tribe,
and to us who had arrived earlier.
“This man,” exclaimed our host with a pause, “this man is known as
the chief of the trustful. His trust is so complete that he would cross
the desert on the scent of an apple.”
Men approved with their heads and laughed agreeably. Djaliil came
and sat near the elder and looked at him avidly. The scholar stirred
on his cushions and took out from his parcel a needle, a thread, a
canvas bag and a pair of scissors.
Photo courtesy of Maha: http://www.almaha.net
This scene was probably rehearsed each time newcomers were
invited by the family. Everybody here knew what would come next,
but they found pleasure in this other ritual.
Djaliil's grandfather explained, teasingly:
"I see that our little Djaliil is back among us once more. May
Allah be praised." We all repeated the words of praise after him.
"We hope that you have been good all this time to your family, Djaliil.
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