The Bedouin

It was an extremely hot day in Amman, Jordan. That day we were visiting Petra. Petra is a town in southern Jordan, literally made of caves, carved in the reddish stone. First known to western culture in late 19th century, Petra is now one of the most visited tourist attractions and symbols of Jordan. I was amazed by the rose stone in which this town was carved. The entire place was surrendered by sandy, dusty roads and narrow trails. It was difficult to breath. As a tourist, I was destined to ride a camel on well-established trails. I have chosen to walk instead. I walked for at least an hour down the dusty trails, until I walked into a Bedouin man who was selling the art crafts. He wore the traditional attire and spoke some English. I looked through his crafts and set down for a moment, grabbing a bottle of water from my back pack. A well-deserved rest! Suddenly, as I was almost ready to continue, the Bedouin started talking, pouring one story after another. He told me the history of Nabataean settlement and the sanctuary that existed since very ancient times. I am not sure for how long did I stay there, with the Bedouin man; it must have been for hours. It started to get dark. This unknown man was an authentic narrator that could not write or read, but he had a history to tell. A rare find! I finally got up and started to walk back to meet with the group, hoping to catch the last bus back to the city.

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