Tuwat Oasis, April, 1324, Evening
We have finally reached the point where there is water. I can't really explain how grateful that everyone on the Hajj is for that--particularly the camels.Those poor creatures; treated like dirt, loaded with sacks upon sacks of gold dust and food, but never allowed to consume any. The smell must drive them mad. The slaves were also ones treated at the same level. They carried each a gold nugget, heavy in their sweaty palms. And though I never heard any complaints--even from children such as Khalifa--I could see the statements of tired, sore, parched, and starved written upon their faces with the dye of the sweat on their brows.
But even despite how much water I drank, I still had the taste of dust and sand in the back of my throat where no water reached--it was absorbed by my greedy tongue far too quickly to race past to there.
Yet, the scholars were (and are) most satisfied with the journey so far, despite their complaints of weakness back in Taghaza. I overheard them speaking of their faith, Islam. Mecca was a land most special to them, because their prophet was from there. I also remember them saying, ever so slightly petulantly, about how many were not holding out on the last leg of Cairo to Mecca. But overall, they were most satisfied with their journey. The closer to this city's big black box, the closer they felt to their God. (Or, their fish made out of parchment. I was translating! It isn't as easy as it seems!)
One of them, introduced as Wali, was most positive. He answered my question of wondering about why he held himself in such manner, and he answered with a yellowed smile.
"Because we are nearly halfway to Mecca," he simply stated--that, or something about geese and curtains under his grandmother's chair. I was never very good at Arabic.
I'm still not ready to say that my answer was questioned there. "But sir," I inquired, in what little Arabic I could use to my knowledge, "why then weren't you satisfied in Taghaza about being nearly nearly halfway to Mecca? Every step brings this caravan closer to your holy city of the cube."
He just looked so blankly at me, but also with an expression so full of disapproval. I suppose I said something about mice and swamps. I returned a look of apologies, and then I stated, in my language, that if he "were a scholar, then he should by able to speak in my tongue." It would be much more practical than me "having to, with a lack of understanding, wander blindly in the mindless confusion that is the Arabic language."
He didn't answer me after that.
But even despite how much water I drank, I still had the taste of dust and sand in the back of my throat where no water reached--it was absorbed by my greedy tongue far too quickly to race past to there.
Yet, the scholars were (and are) most satisfied with the journey so far, despite their complaints of weakness back in Taghaza. I overheard them speaking of their faith, Islam. Mecca was a land most special to them, because their prophet was from there. I also remember them saying, ever so slightly petulantly, about how many were not holding out on the last leg of Cairo to Mecca. But overall, they were most satisfied with their journey. The closer to this city's big black box, the closer they felt to their God. (Or, their fish made out of parchment. I was translating! It isn't as easy as it seems!)
One of them, introduced as Wali, was most positive. He answered my question of wondering about why he held himself in such manner, and he answered with a yellowed smile.
"Because we are nearly halfway to Mecca," he simply stated--that, or something about geese and curtains under his grandmother's chair. I was never very good at Arabic.
I'm still not ready to say that my answer was questioned there. "But sir," I inquired, in what little Arabic I could use to my knowledge, "why then weren't you satisfied in Taghaza about being nearly nearly halfway to Mecca? Every step brings this caravan closer to your holy city of the cube."
He just looked so blankly at me, but also with an expression so full of disapproval. I suppose I said something about mice and swamps. I returned a look of apologies, and then I stated, in my language, that if he "were a scholar, then he should by able to speak in my tongue." It would be much more practical than me "having to, with a lack of understanding, wander blindly in the mindless confusion that is the Arabic language."
He didn't answer me after that.