Tuesday morning, as I prepared to leave for my language lesson, I received a call from my language tutor, Noah, with a request very typical of life here. He said one of his relatives had come to Abeche from the countryside to bring his wife to the doctor. They had finished at the doctor and were ready to re-join the rest of their family in the countryside, where they are camped along with their camels, sheep and goats. They are Arab nomads, originally from the Arabian peninsula but having lived in eastern Chad for generations. They spend the dry season in the southeast of Chad where their animals can find food and water, and then as the rains begin in June they start to make their way north towards the Sahara desert. The region we live in is called the Sahel, from the Arabic word meaning “shore” or “coastline”. The Sahel serves as the coastline for the vast sea of sand that makes up the largest desert in the world – the Sahara. As the rains fall, the Sahel blooms in a thick blanket of green grass, like a giant carpet rolled out over the barren landscape. It’s really quite beautiful.
Anyway, my friend’s request was that I drive him, his brother, and his brother’s wife out to their camp in the bush. He said “it’s not far, and the roads are good”. I thought about it briefly and agreed. We would do our language lesson on the road today.
So I grabbed some water, my Leatherman, GoPro camera and told Kimberly I’d be back after while. I threw my toolbox in my Land Cruiser, topped off the air in my tires, and headed to Noah’s house. There I met some additional family members who were visiting and after some customary greetings we loaded up and headed out of town.
Or at least we tried to head out of town. We couldn’t find the “road” that leads north out of town towards our destination. We drove around in town for a while, asking various people for directions. At one point we reached what we thought was the road, but as we started down it some military guys came out into the road and waved us down. Thinking this was just the normal checkpoint always found on the outskirts of town, I slowed down and prepared to stop. But I wasn’t slowing down quick enough apparently, and one solder briefly started to raise his AK-47 before I came to a complete halt. I realized quickly that this was not the road, and so after asking directions from the soldiers we turned around to try again.
Finally, we found the road and began heading north out of town. Not far out of town, we veered off the “main road” and headed across the green fields along a dirt path. We drove for 30 minutes or so along the path through the bright green grass and rocky, rolling hills. We passed some nomad families moving down the path.
The camel train as seen from my GoPro camera mounted on the dash.
They were loaded with all their belongings and their women were mounted on the camels, sitting in baskets covered in fabric. Cooking pots and various other household items hung from the baskets, swaying rhythmically with the awkward gait of the camels. Such a fascinating sight to see, like peeking into another world.
We finally arrived at the camp of Noah’s family, where we got out of the Land Cruiser and began the extensive greetings that are the custom of Arabs.
“asalaam alekum”
“wa alekum asalaam”
“allah yabarik fii”
“machallah”
“keff aafee”
“aafee taybiin”
“amin”
“keff nasak”
“aafee al hamdulilah”
And on and on, repeating many of the greetings over and over again for probably 2 minutes. Long greetings are customary here – the longer the time apart and the closer the relationship, the longer the greeting. There were hugs, handshakes, more hugs and the rapid-fire greetings without so much as a breath. It doesn’t seem to be important to listen to what the other person says and respond, so much as just to rattle off a bunch of greetings and blessings as quickly as possible for as long as possible. After greeting Noah each person would turn to me and offer similar greetings. I gave it my best shot, but my greeting skills still need some work!
After the greetings we were taken to sit down on a mat underneath a big shade tree where the other men were sitting. A large bowl of fresh camel’s milk was set before us and we were encouraged to drink. So I picked up up the bowl with both hands and drank several mouthfuls of the warm milk. Not bad, but it had a very strong, “gamey” taste. Noah drank his share, enjoying a delicacy that is difficult to find in town but something he grew up drinking regularly. He’s told me stories of going days with nothing but camel’s milk to drink. He swears you could survive indefinitely on it.
As we drank our milk, Noah talked with the men. I picked up words, sometimes whole phrases, but I wasn’t really following the discussion. I was just looking around, taking in the scenery, feeling blessed at the privilege of living in this exotic place.
After another half hour or so, we started to leave but the men insisted we stay and drink tea. We capitulated, sitting back down. The tea came shortly after, strong green tea with as much sugar as water I think. I drank a glass, and they poured another. Not wanting to reject their hospitality I drank the second. They poured another. I drank the third, and finally told them that was enough. Noah was amused by this, knowing that I don’t drink a lot of tea.
As we prepared (again) to leave, someone brought out a large 5 liter jug, one that formerly contained motor oil. They had rinsed it out and I soon realized that it was for us to take the camel’s milk with us. They carefully poured the milk in the jug and gave it to us. Noah was thrilled.
With many more words, we finally departed, but not without first acquiring a goat and a sheep as gifts. They wanted to give Noah a baby camel, but he politely declined. It’s difficult to overstate the bonds of loyalty between extended family in this part of the world. They depend on each other for everything, from companionship to protection to jobs and the daily necessities such as food and shelter. The extended family is used much like a savings account – depositing gifts, favors, etc. and expecting help to be there when it is needed most. When someone experiences a loss – loss of home, theft, sickness, whatever, the community and family come together to help replace it. Individualism is nearly non-existent here. Seeing this in action reminds me what a person stands to lose for following Christ – not simply the relationships of family and friends but their entire support structure will often collapse. I wonder how many American Christians would follow Christ if the cost was so high. It’s a long way from “Your Best Life Now”.
Posing for a picture just before leaving
We finally drove back across the green carpet towards Abeche, stopping once to top off our jug of camel’s milk from a herd of camels along the road. Noah called the young shepherd boy over and told him he wanted milk, so the boy took the jug, went over to the nearest female camel, and topped off the jug. Apparently the camel won’t give milk unless her baby is there, so the shepherd boy called the baby camel over first.
When we arrived at the checkpoint to enter Abeche, a soldier wanted to catch a ride into town with us. I have a policy of not refusing people with guns unless absolutely necessary, so we told him to hop in and we were off. He didn’t realize we had a sheep and a goat just behind him in the back of the Land Cruiser, but at one point the sheep cried out, “Baaaaaa!” right in his ear and he nearly jumped out of his seat. We all had a good laugh.
When we arrived back to Noah’s house, he insisted on giving me some of the camel’s milk. He poured it into an empty coke bottle, and also promised to share the meat from the goat and sheep when he slaughters them. I told him he could just share it around with his neighbors, but he insisted that I must share some too. So I guess I should make some room in the fridge for a fresh leg of lamb…
-
-
-
-
-
photo bombed by a sheep
-
-
-
the shepherds who generously topped off our milk jug
