Desert rules

On a timeless trek under a harsh sun and radiant stars, the beauty of the Sahara and its people is revealed

February 15, 2009|Joe Ray, Globe Correspondent

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Salah Kberat, our lead-footed Touareg driver and guide, loses his sunglasses on one of the first days into the trip. A few days later, he hits the brakes in the middle of nowhere, makes a U-turn, and drives back a few hundred feet to where he's spotted a pair of shades in the sand that fit him perfectly. He flashes a million-dollar grin and gives a yelp of joy. Five minutes farther on, we come across a herd of goats followed by a young shepherd holding a newborn kid. Our guides stop to talk with him and, saying goodbye, load him up with oranges while Kberat puts his new sunglasses on the shepherd. Easy come, easy go - a louder yelp, a bigger smile.

These lessons become even clearer later in a wadi (dried riverbed) garden in the desert. Fearing the ethnic and religious violence in their native Nigeria, Touareg farmer and shepherd Mohamed Ali, his wife, Salaam, and their infant daughter, Zarnat, joined the thousands of refugees who have fled their country in the past year.

"Before, I was a shepherd, but my sheep were being stolen and I had to flee with my wife and child," Ali says. "Eight of us came in a clandestine taxi from Nigeria. We've had no news from our family who stayed behind."

Sitting across from Ali, it's hard to imagine - let alone digest - his story, yet some of the problems he could face here are alleviated by his Touareg roots. He has found work as a gardener in this tiny cooperative, selling vegetables to passersby and to the farm owner who sells in the markets of Tamanrasset.

At the end of our talk, he asks me to take a few photos of him and his daughter and I show them to him on the camera screen. He smiles, takes a ring from his finger and hands it to me. It's not an exchange or a veiled attempt to ask for money, but like Kberat's sunglasses, a gift.

I look to Kberat, who has been translating, on how to return the ring without insulting his friend. He says a few words to Ali, nods, and I hand it back.

"What did you say?" I ask.

"I told him that the gift was ours in meeting him."

Joe Ray can be reached at www.joe-ray.com.