Visiting Palestinian Bedouins

During a trip to the west bank last February I spent a night with a Bedouin family in the desert, roughly an hour east of Bethlehem towards the dead sea. They used to live farther into the desert, but territorial restrictions keep pushing them further towards the cities and settlements. Even now, they are only allowed to stay at the camp we visited on certain days. Still, on the eve of Sabbath we could drive out and stay the night there. It happened to be a full moon night and the plan was to hike through the desert at night to watch the sunrise over the dead sea.

During a trip to the west bank last February I spent a night with a Bedouin family in the desert, roughly an hour east of Bethlehem towards the dead sea. They used to live farther into the desert, but territorial restrictions keep pushing them further towards the cities and settlements. Even now, they are only allowed to stay at the camp we visited on certain days. The whole area is now an IDF (Israel Defense Forces) military training site. The ground around the campsite is littered with debris of bullets and heavy shells. When hiking, one can find numerous other indicators of the military's presence, like dug out positions for tanks to fire from. Still, on the eve of Sabbath we could drive out and stay the night there. It happened to be a full moon night and the plan was to hike through the desert at night to watch the sunrise over the dead sea.

After a traditional dinner, everyone gathered in the main tent. Other members of the family as well as friends started to arrive and soon there were upwards of 30 people sitting on pillows and carpets on the edge of the tent. Two Bedouin musicians started to play traditional music. Both their flute and the rebab, a traditional instrument in middle eastern music, were handmade. The rebab in particular was very interesting. It consisted of only a wooden frame, some goat skin and a single string. But in the hands of a master it has an incredible range. The instruments, together with their chants created a mesmerizing sound that fitted the atmosphere perfectly. After the concert everyone went to bed early - we would need to get up in the middle of the night for the hike through the desert.

There wasn’t a single cloud and the full moon bathed the landscape in a pale light. While not enough light to take pictures without a tripod and a lot of time, it was plenty to see the way and take in the surreal mood. This surreal feeling was only aided by the fact that there was absolute quiet, broken only by our steps. We were guided by a young Bedouin who knew the desert like the back of his hand. We walked past one of their oldest former campsites. For centuries they not only camped there for several months of the year, but it was also were they buried their dead. Now this whole zone is an Israeli nature reserve and they are no longer allowed to either camp there or bury the dead. We came past an old, now destroyed, waterhole. According to our guide it was blown up by the IDF to discourage the Bedouins to come back to this corner of the desert.

We arrived at the cliffs that overlooked the eastern side of the dead sea just before sunrise. From here, the cliffs drop more than 600m, right to the shores of the Dead Sea. Our guide leapt down to a ledge on the cliff and with only a piece of wood and two stones had a small fire going within minutes. Just before the sunrise, I turned back and saw the light of dawn bathing the desert in a soft but intensely colorful light, with a pale full moon still standing above it. I reflected on the evening we spent with our generous hosts and the walk through the desert that is no longer freely accessible to them. The experience left me with a deep appreciation for their skill, knowledge of the land and dedication to their culture. One cannot help but feel depressed about the state of affairs. It seems incomprehensible that this rich and beautiful land cannot be shared among all its inhabitants in peace. Unfortunately, those who have the power to do so, do not seem interested in reaching out and finding a solution.

The sun starts creeping over the Jordanian Abarim mountain range. The landscape lights up in yellow and gold tones and for a brief moment all thought is washed away by the spectacle in front of my eyes.