Samar is her name...

I woke up a few times in this desert, woke up to silence, to the sound of a breathing wind, silently shifting sands, shadows moving like faceless mourners, amidst a slowly moving procession of a departed loved elder, or like priests in ashen robes, lost in thought, walking an old trail, past the familiar walls of a forgotten citadel. And every time, I would see him standing in the distance, a small figure waiting in the distance, the edges of his robe dancing in the wind. So I would wave, and he would come, always as if carried by sand itself. He would greet me with a ‘Salaam,’ and warm smile. And I would greet him back.

In the beginning, hoping to find out who this man was, I asked him a great deal of questions about himself, his family, his tribe, his life. His answers, court and modest, were always forthcoming; he was clearly a man who didn’t need to conceal anything. Aslam was born in the desert, son of a salt trader and camel herdsman, he had followed on the steps of his father’s, as his father had followed on those of his father, and as tradition required, for as long as his people had inhabited this land.

Aslam had started traveling across the desert before learning how to walk. He could read the dunes the way a seasoned scholar could his subject of expertise. He could not only tell where every oasis was, but what the best path was to each one, depending on the time of the moon-year. He could read the stars, and was teaching everything he had learned from his father and from the desert itself to his two sons. Talking to him, I quickly realized how content he was.

Always calm, he spoke with great passion, especially when talking about his wife. “She is the wisest woman in the desert, respected by all. Samar is her name, and she knows every dune by name. She can travel faster than anyone else to the furthest edges of our world. She can heal any disease that ever touched our people. She can quiet sand storms, with her prayers. She can raise the wind with her songs, and when she calls in the clouds, they come in haste. She is a kind neighbor, a caring daughter, a loving mother, and Samar is her name.”

Telling me about his wife, he was brimming with pride, and his eyes were like two shimmering stars. I was moved and tears gathered in my eyes, for I had never heard anyone speak of his companion the way he had.

To be continued...