Bedouin Wedding, Part 2

Entering the Women's tent was a bit like knowing you're about to walk into your own surprise birthday party. You know what's about to happen, but you don't know what the details will be.

When the men in our group walked all of us women over to the women's tent we passed several men who stopped us to ask the perpetual query and give a greeting: "Whereareyoufrom? You are welcome!" And then they would add, as we walked towards the somewhat camoflauged entry to the tent "You go to the Women's tent?" We said yes and they would say with awe and wonder in their eyes "Oh you are very, very lucky!"

What were we walking into? A lavish oasis with plush carpets and women in belly dancer costumes having pillow fights with satin pillows? I mean, why was everyone so excited about the Women's tent??

Well, honestly. 

I still have no idea.

There were some carpets laid out in certain areas, but none of the decor present in the men's tent - none of the neatly arranged rows of carpets and pillows. Just masses of tent-like women in a small room with children all clustered together closest to the stage area (which was on the men's side of the tent partition).

Oh and a massive vat of tea. Like a huge plastic trough. When we entered, the Women eyed us suspiciously, but several were standoffishly friendly. They pulled us over some carpets to sit on and warmed us some tea from the trough over a small fire. The younger, unmarried women were less suspicious of us and came over to chat with us quickly. One in particular, Fatima chatted with us. She told us of her disdain for getting married. She wanted to finish school and then become a nanny for travelers. "Why should I get married and become like a servant? I could have a good life and make my own money; have an apartment! I do not wish to marry!"

 

Fatima, the second from the right. These girls were the only ones who would allow their picture to be taken. And they were so excited to see the photos on the digital screen once taken! They wanted to take more and more photos! And then they would look and comment about how bad they looked and sigh! I guess girls are girls no matter where you go. Fatima, at one point placed her arm next to mine and said "All my life I have wanted skin like this", she stroked my white skin. I pointed to her beautiful bronze arm and said "All my life, I have wanted skin like yours!" She sighed and replied "You always want what you don't have."

I have to say that I'm with Fatima. I'd want that too had I grown up in a Bedouin society in this day and age. 

Western clashes with tradition. 

Another woman, whose name I have long forgotten, brought a video camera over to my travel companion, asking her to fix it. She was immediately referred to me (I'd established a reputation for being not only the responsible, prepared one on tour, but also the resident techophile.) The language on the device was set to English and the Woman could not figure out how to switch it to Arabic. So I took it and had it set up in Arabic in a few minutes.

Little did I know what that simple transaction would bring. She sat with us. She brought other women. And children. We were "Okay" and much more welcome that we had been a few minutes earlier. We'd helped and were appreciated. Also, we always asked before taking photos, which established us a respectful bunch. After chatting with us for a few moments, she invited us all to come to her house for lunch the next day.  It was nearly impossible to convince her that it would be impossible for us to join her. (We were already an hour's drive away from Beach camp and had no idea how far she lived from there!)

 

 This girl taught me a game similar to jacks, played with pebbles.

That Woman provided me with amazing insight that night. I'll share it with you.

The backstory:

You see, the stage in the Men's tent had been set up to host the night's extravagant entertainment, something absolutely forbidden in everyday life, except this one night per year: Belly Dancing.

The video camera Woman sat with me and expressed her concern. She was a bundle of nerves! Said she:

"I did not sleep last night! I was so worried. Because of the Belly Dancer! I am afraid that my husband will want her and not me any longer! The belly dancers are (She made a face) not good women. They wear only (she draws a bikini top outline in the air on her form)... bikini! They are not good women! I am afraid that my husband will like it too much. He has never seen me with so little clothing!"

Wait, WHAT?

It was a conversation that I was both completely unprepared for and stunned into silence by.

1. Bedouins apparently don't get naked. Ever. And yet this woman had children.

2. I thought Mormon society was conservative. Apparently not so much.

3. What???

Wow. What a moment. Reality check for this American. It would be easy for anyone who grew up in Western Society with Western ideals to simply dismiss this as primitive, uneducated or backwards. But there is also beauty. In the preservation of culture and tradition; in simply respecting modesty.

And I respect that the way of life for the Bedouin people is not my own. And the fact that I was able to venture into a world so protected and experience that moment astonishes me.

--

The evening moved on and on. The belly dancers arrived HOURS late... And we all just waited around. And honestly they were terrible!! Yes, their costumes looked like a bikini top and sheer flowy pants (like the ones you see in movies), they were lined with skin-toned fabric - so these girls were actually completely covered. The worst part by far was the dancing. It was as though the real dancers canceled and the people in charge of picking them up knew they couldn't return to Dahab empty-handed so they borrowed some costumes and wandered the streets for hours trying to convince a couple of girls to wear them and come and act like belly dancers for a night... 

Bad. Bad. Bad.

Even our guide, Ghandi, said they were the worst dancers he had ever seen.

After we'd seen enough of the "belly dancers" we left the tent area and made our way to the "parking lot", where we found, at last, the traditional Bedouin wedding festivities happening. Tribes were gathered in large groups dancing traditional dances and singing. A line of men would stand and clap and sing together, swaying in unison. And a single female dancer, covered in an ornate veil would flirt with them all - swaying and moving, teasing with her veil and her motions. It was all very ethereal looking. The men feigned peeking under the veil and the dancer would move away coyly The line of men was always moving as one, snaking along in a life of it's own. It was beautiful and fun and yet always absolutely respectful. 

This was my National Geographic night. A night in the Egyptian desert at a Bedouin Wedding party.