The Bedouin Chieftan's Son

This is a story my family loves to tell.  When I was nineteen, my family traveled to Egypt.  I have many stories to tell about this incredible adventure, but when it's 'make fun of Aubrey time,' this is one they love to tell.

My dad and I.

Part of our tour was to visit a Bedouin camp.  Bedouin's are nomadic tribes common in the area we visited.  They served us a meal in an open tent where we sat cross-legged in a large circle.  Tea, always tea, was also served.  I was intrigued that tea in Egypt was always served in a little glass.  There were no handles like I'm used to.  Just a small, narrow glass of piping hot tea.  I would hold it around the very lip with just my fingertips because the water was so hot.


My mom and I before our meal.  I look angry.  I wonder what I was thinking about.

 After the meal, we were given a dance lesson...don't I look super comfortable performing this dance in front of everyone while they smiled and clapped?  No?  Weird. Trust me, you wouldn't either. 

With dance lesson complete (thank goodness), we were shown how to make their traditional flat bread.  I was fortunate enough to receive a hands on tutorial.  They made it look so easy!   I remember that the girl who taught me was very young.  I would guess she was only a young teenager.  She wore a thin silver band on the ring finger of her left hand.  I've always wondered whether that meant she was married, as is our custom, or whether it was just the finger the ring fit on.  There was a different Egyptian girl at a separate place who was surprised that I was so old and not married.  That said, I suppose my flat bread teacher very well may have been married.  I think about her sometimes and wonder about how very different our lives are. 

Anyhow, on to the funny story!  There was a little boy, probably eight or nine years old.  He was apparently the son of the tribe's chief.  He took my hand at one point to take me on a tour of the camels and the rest of the camp.  Naturally, I didn't understand a word he said, but I just smiled and nodded, all the time thinking about how sweet and funny this little boy was.  He followed me around everywhere I went.  I went to sit in the shade...he went to sit in the shade...really, really close to me.  I went to get a drink of water...he went to get a drink of water.  I think you get my drift.  He was obviously smitten.

It turns out that all the while, my dad had the tribe's chief talking him up too.  The chief was negotiating with my dad.  Negotiating my betrothal to his son...awkward!  My dad thought the guy was joking and so therefore joked back and started talking about how many camels it would take for him to give up his only daughter!!!   About the time his conversation was accurately translated to the rest of us, the tour bus was ready to leave.  My new little friend asked for a kiss, which I granted (on the cheek...don't freak out) and then ran onto the bus and huddled down in the back row.  Now, how many girls can say that their father almost (unknowingly, of course) sold them to Egyptian Bedouins?  Thanks for keeping me, Dad.  I know I was pretty sassy.

When I see these photos, it makes me pause and think of the girl with the silver band who smiled a lot and happily made her flat bread.  Just think, that could have been me.