Usually we drove the dabouka in the sand and far from the sown unless we came to graze them on field stubble. Out there we usually saw nothing but tire tracks. We couldn’t quite make out what we were seeing- were they wind blown plastic bags?- when these girls in their white school uniform thobes approached. Only when they saw two Khawajas on camels did they smile. And only then did the unmarried Adam Hamid shout, Ya Sukr! Ya ‘Asl!, O Sugar! O Honey!
©David Melody