Cousin Vinnie Ordinance

sirens Walking slowly through the streets. V

"Wadi al-Uyun: a piece of greenery in the middle of a desert sullen and obstinate, as emerged from the bowels of the earth or dropped from the sky. It was different from everything around him or rather, no link seemed to connect you with your environment, so much so that one wondered how much water perplexed and vegetation had been born in a place like that. But the surprise was fading gradually giving way to a mysterious respect followed by a rapt contemplation. Was one of the few cases in which nature expresses his genius and his stubborn changeability, thus resisting any explanation.

Wadi al-Uyun could appear to those who inhabited a conventional. In fact, they are not used to raise big questions. They were too used to seeing palm trees fill the valley, sources sprouting here and there in winter and early spring. Nevertheless, they felt a supernatural power to protect them and they made life easier. When the caravan arrived, wrapped in a cloud of dust and torn down by fatigue and thirst, redoubling efforts in the last leg of journey to reach the valley as soon as possible, the newcomers were overwhelmed a drunk and a weakness. In view of the water, however, repressed all their enthusiasm and said that he who created the earth and men also created Wadi al-Uyun at that place to save them from certain death in the midst of that treacherous and ungrateful desert. Once the convoy stopped, unloaded their packs and quenched the thirst of men and animals, that warm slumber transformed an overwhelming feeling of satisfaction that everything was seized, no one could understand if that welfare was the result of climate, fresh water or known safe. This was extended also to the beasts, which were less vigorous and less prone to heavy workloads. (...)


Behind Wadi al-Uyun and also stood around a few sandy hills, but once they could slide slightly, they would stand still, mainly due to wind direction and type of land, that stood in the midst of a broad plain. These hills were used as reference points, and the baptized to distinguish. To the east, was Dahra, and north, Watfa and Umm al-azl. The hills to the south and west were of minor importance for the villagers and passengers, but even these were put a name, because in the desert to give a nickname to things beyond the mere whim. The name, created by nature itself, reveals the degree of importance of a place or traits that define and identify you.


(...) The people of Wadi al-Uyun were like water: when they are overflowing, were bursting. This excess (as happened with the migration, with travel) was to them almost a necessity. Emigration, the journey ... always the same cycle. One day he realized that there were too many and that Wadi al-Uyun could not feed them all. So they sent the young age of travel to find new places to live and earn a living. This decision may seem a bit misleading by not depend, as was the case in other areas, seasons, the rain (which could reach down every so many years), pasture surrounding the valley or sources, even when they sprouted everywhere. It was rather a sickly sort of stubbornness secret and slowly growing in the hearts of people. This blindness, which was manifested mainly in adults, although try to hide it or resist it, lived also in youth and women: the first in a more pronounced and irrepressible, and in the second, with a look of sadness and despair. But the desire to discover the world, the dream of wealth and an indescribable nostalgia besieged younger so that the wait will be unbearable. Unable to listen to the advice of elders, often ended up taking the decision by themselves, however hard it was.

There was a man in Wadi al-Uyun, especially of a certain age, who had not ever seduced a desire to travel. Rare were also the elders who had not ever undertaken in a life journey. It is true that these demonstrations could have a duration and consequences of various kinds, from those that extended many years, even to last a lifetime, until it ended after a few months. In both cases, the traveler could return disappointed or triumphant, but always invaded by a great nostalgia permeated with memories, images and desires to resume their march. Neither the causes that drove the men of Wadi al-Uyun from left are summarized in a nutshell. Each had their own motivations and aspirations, and mostly did not coincide with those of others. Success and failure, wealth and poverty, were concepts that meaning diverged from one person to another. While very often on his return, travelers brought with them countless anecdotes and stories, and long nights full of dreams, the truth is that they always remained poor, or almost always, which did not prevent endless stories to tell about his adventures, talk about how much money accumulated and how we lost. And the good things of life, they said, are never timeless. "

Abdurrahman Munif, salt Cities, translated from Arabic Bardají Anna Gil, Bogotá, Editorial Norma. Collection The Other Shore, 2007. ISBN9- 789580-499800



... " Second day: We camped beside a creek at a place called Sheiban Mahomedi. To the north, are patches of black smoke from bitumen wells Kubaysah. This morning I had to dress in aba e ismak because, as I said Jassem Saleh on behalf of my English hat could lead to some distrust of our caravan.
- Cursed hat English is not good. Cap Arabic good.

A convoy through the desert of Syria, 1925 © Bettman / CORBIS

So, dressed in all the pomp of a brand new aba Baghdad, I'm lying on a rug in front of my tent under a mottled sky as bright turquoise. Distinguish a short distance carrying large bundles of camel Jassem Rawwaf er stacked in a semicircle to protect the fire, around the fire are squatting more serious members of the caravan drinking coffee. Opposite the shop I have English Mohamed Sayyid where, apparently, meets the golden youth. The bullets of the other seven or eight groups in the caravan are placed in a half moon, such as Jassem, to protect the fires from the wind. Apart from sayyid and I and the dancers on their way to Aleppo, there is only a dealer in Damascus refined enough to have your own tent. All others are off on rugs around the campfire, under the blue sky. Have led the camels to graze in the dry scrub of the hills near the pond and dark silhouetted against the skyline in unusual attitudes. Occasionally there is a guard with a rifle placed obliquely on the back, still watching from the top of a hill in shades of ocher, violet and steel, which extend in all directions like a vast surface waves sea.
Down in the pool where I had just given a bath I had a long conversation, based solely on seven words and a considerable pantomime, with one of the servants of Mohamed Sayyid, a tall of slender limbs named Suleiman. I asked an Englishman known as "Hilleby" with which he had been the camel caravan in the Najd and, upon learning that he knew, exteriorized considerable euphoria. He also dressed like an Arab and appreciated the sweet desert air.
- Desert Aire sweet as honey. Baghdad air, dirty. When finished talking
cut a branch of an aromatic plant and made me smell. I remembered a little rosemary.
- The desert like this - he said again and, then, a face of disgust he contracted the face -. Ingliz Baghdad like this. "Hilleby" Arab friend, do not be afraid of the desert. Well.
then grabbed my hand to take me to the store sayyid where, after having made me sit in the place of honor, I served coffee and dates. When I had a good time sitting there trying to catch a single word of a speech that seemed to be about the Najd, the smoking ban throughout its territory and the extraordinary kindness of Ibn Saud, whom even the English called Sultan, Fahad appeared, my camel, to communicate that dinner was ready. Both he and Saleh sent me the idea that men Jassem, seeing me stay so long in the stores Mohamed Sayyid, judged over my love of disreputable companies. At least that Saleh suggested to me after he returned with the camels to camp at sunset.
- Sayyid no damn good - I said.
social relations are so complicated in the desert as anywhere else. "


John Dos Passos, Orient Express, La Coruña, Ediciones del Viento, 2005. ISBN 9788493406042