Hays Travelogue

Yesterday was a total Egyptian experience. We went to the Birqash camel market, got lost on the way, and experienced our first big spring sandstorm. Because we got lost, we arrived at the camel market about the same time as the sandstorm. If the photos have a gritty quality to them, that’s why.

The drive to Birqash was almost as interesting as the camel market. We passed flocks of sheep that were being gathered for the upcoming feast for Prophet Mohamed’s birthday. We passed families working in their fields, harvesting clover and spinach. We passed farmers bringing their garlic harvest to market. The towns we passed through were very poor. Garbage dumps smoldered on the edges of towns. In one town, a ditch dug through the center of the road was the refuse site. Rats foraged and children scavenged. In front of a butcher’s shop, a woman was cleaning out a mound of tripas and tossing the unusable parts into the ditch. Black water in the ditch drained into a nearby irrigation canal where dead animals and garbage floated. Farmers pumped this water, which foamed white with effluents, onto the fields of clover, garlic, and spinach.

In Birqash, the first thing I noticed was that camels were everywhere. Most of them were hobbled by having one leg bent and the calf tied to the thigh. Others were loose. Occasionally, a camel would get spooked and run through the market while being chased by men and boys with sticks. Some of the camels were marked with red bull’s eyes. These are destined for the meat market. Other camels were marked with blue markings; we didn’t learn what those marks meant. There was a pile of dead camels down the road and one dead camel inside the market. Not exactly a selling point.

Soon after we entered the market, we were kidnapped by a “guide” who told us about the various kinds of camels from Sudan, Somalia, Egyptian, Saudi Arabia. To be more accurate, he didn’t speak much English, so he pointed out the various kinds of camels. We don’t know why a Sudan camel is different from a Somalia camel. We could tell, however, that the Saudi camels were taller, paler, and in better condition than other camels. He showed us where the camels were loaded onto trucks. We learned that camels aren’t particularly compliant. You have to whack them with sticks to get them to sit down in the truck.

We paid the guide off and then were kidnapped by a kid who wanted to show us the pen were mother camels and their calves were kept. The pen had nice high walls, so the wind wasn’t so intense and there wasn’t as much dust, sand, dung, urine, and camel hair in the air.

We paid the kid and wandered out to watch the camel traders make their deals. Camel-trading looks like an intense and hot-tempered sport. There was a lot of haggling and at least one noisy and active difference of opinion. At least that argument did not involve sticks.

The sandstorm drove us out. It lasted the rest of the day, and this morning, although the wind has died down, the air is still thick with dust.