#Makingithappen

Photo: Adel making tea for me Siwi style in his shop DUNE which is often filled with interesting people, local and foreign.

The first time I met Adel was the day I remember as the day it rained all day in Siwa. The dust had turned to mud, cars were sliding through the streets and he’d had to tow a couple of them to safety. People were saying, “It hasn’t rained this much in 50 years”, or "3" or "5" depending on who you spoke to. There was a lot of rain.

That night, I also met an Egyptian woman living in Siwa who, I later found out, has an outstanding skill for creating clothes that combine a contemporary design with a flavour of the traditional. For me, that means they don’t just hang off your body like a sack but are more form fitting and flattering. Turns out, when she moved to Siwa and was finding it difficult to make friends, Adel was her lifeline. She sells some of her work in Adel’s shop and she was on her way there that cold, wet night for Adel’s homemade chicken soup. Of course, I accepted her invitation to join them.

I instantly took to Adel. His level of English meant that we were able to have deeper and more interesting conversations than I did with most Siwans. He answered my anthropocentric questions honestly and with a conceptual understanding that indicated his adeptness with the English language. Adel openly talked about his experience as a Siwan man in a culture with complex gender relations (it could be argued that all communities could be described in this way). Subsequently, I have spoken to other Siwan men who echo his sentiments that being a man in Siwa can be a lonely business.

I discovered that Adel enjoys quiet desert trips into the desert at night on his own, something that seems uncommon here and which is also a dream of mine – to sleep in the desert under the stars on my own, and affordably. That was almost 4 months ago in winter. Now it’s summer, and temperatures in the desert at night are now in the teens and twenties. Perfect for sleeping under the stars. The desert has this inexplicable effect of relaxing and revitalising me and I knew it was time for a much-needed break from Siwa town. It was time to recharge and start afresh. A night in the desert was just what the doctor ordered. I needed it and I needed it now. I went to Adel and he did not hesitate. If anything, I did.

I’d packed what I needed. I wanted a simple night with none of the frills everyone thinks you want that also jacks up the prices. I didn’t want a guide to accompany me all night, I did not want a meal cooked under the sand, I did not want to have to light a fire, I did not want a desert safari to wiz up and down sand dunes, I did not want the stress of organising. I just wanted someone to make what I wanted, a reality where all I had to do was show up on the night.

Adel!

I discovered that my phones don’t communicate with Adel’s phones. I had an initial conversation with him in his shop where I asked him if he could help. He immediately told me what he would do and that I could go that very night - in a couple of hours. I said that I’d confirm by phone and later I sent him a text to postpone to the next night. I stopped by his shop just to check he’d received it. He hadn’t and everything was ready and he was good-natured despite my postponing saying that the next night would be just as fine.

As it was a bespoke request although Adel had found me a driver he also came on the trip to make sure I camped in the spot that was right for me. When we set off I said, “Do you know where we’re going?”

He laughed communicating not a clue and that we’ll figure it out as we go – very Siwi to go with gut feelings. I loved that.

Before I got into the car I said, ”Errr … can it be a spot out of the route of smugglers, snakes and scorpions please?” They laughed. It wasn’t meant to be a joke. On a previous adventure we’d established that smugglers don’t carry arms so were not really a problem but if the military were pursuing them, well collateral damage might be possible. I was not in the part of the desert where military permission was required so it was not much of a risk. And what is life without risks anyway, right? Before I left town that night an older desert man reassured me that he’d never been bitten by a scorpion… was that because he’d been bitten by a snake…? It was all in Arabic so I didn’t get to the bottom of that one. “Just don’t camp near water or greenery,” he said. I, of course, had a long list,

“Near enough to, but not too near, a camp in case there’s an emergency (whatever that might be- I had recapped tourniquets with friends)”?

“Perhaps a rock behind me for protection from the wind”?

“Not in a place where a speeding car discovers me in their path only when it’s too late”.

“Lower, so there’s less light from Siwa”, Adel added.

Between Adel and the driver Abdul- Aziz we found the spot. Low enough to be protected. High enough to experience a fabulous sunrise. I drew an arrow in the sand pointing in the direction of the nearby, but not-too-near, camp. Knowing I could easily get disoriented (even though my sense of direction is one of my strengths) especially if I was any combination of bleeding, bitten and befuddled, I stuck a pin. Adel later told me Abdul-Aziz didn’t want to leave me on my own not for fear of any particular thing but he was just uncomfortable leaving a woman in the desert (not his words, our analysis).