Salah

November 25, 2024

Salah treats me like I’m part of his family - warm, caring, and incredibly kind.

Last night, he even left his phone in my room so I could access the internet since mine wasn’t working properly. He ensures I’m well-fed, joins me in playing table football with his nephews, and, as promised, takes me into the desert in the afternoon, accompanied by a friend.

It’s only now that I realize I lost several items yesterday on Bender’s pickup: my rain jacket, spare tire, sweater, and towel - everything I had strapped to the back of my bike must have fallen off. I only mention the rain jacket to Salah so he doesn’t worry too much. I try to convince myself that I don’t urgently need those items, swallowing my frustration and distracting myself.

As we drive, we pass numerous trucks working on The Line project.

However, the actual construction site remains out of view. In the middle of the desert, we stop at a small, open-sided shelter, which turns out to be a mosque. Salah and his friend go to pray. Naturally, tea is part of the pause. Eventually, I decline another cup, joking, “I’m not a camel.” This sparks laughter, and despite the language barrier, we share plenty of laughs.

We then arrive at an intriguing sandstone formation shaped by erosion into a natural arch, which we climb to explore. Afterward, we make our way to the canyon, where towering cliffs rise dramatically around us. The scenery is breathtaking. They soon light a fire, and we settle in to enjoy the region’s three staples: tea, Arabic coffee, and dates.

Later, we stop by Bender’s shop to check if my rain jacket might have ended up there. Unfortunately, it hasn’t. I’m concerned that Salah might insist on buying me a replacement, so I repeatedly assure him that it’s not a big deal. To my amazement, he offers me his own thick winter jacket. It’s incredible—he would give me the shirt off his back, despite us only knowing each other for a day and a half! I politely but firmly decline, explaining that I don’t even have space for such a bulky jacket.

The next day, it’s finally time for me to set off. A demanding stage lies ahead: approximately 100 kilometers through the desert to reach the entrance of Wadi Disah.

Salah mentions he might visit Wadi Disah in two days to check on me, though he can’t guarantee it.

He drives me to the outskirts of the city, and it’s evident that he’s sad to see me go. I feel a touch of melancholy myself. But alongside that, I’m filled with excitement - today, the journey truly begins. Unless, of course, something unexpected happens. Around here, you just never know…

Desert

Flexibility