It took getting our rental Honda stuck in the sand on our first night of a road trip across the nation. With the stars as our only guiding light, frightened doesn’t seem to cover what I felt. To my disbelief, seven cars pulled to the side of the road to assist us in our time of troubles. You hauled us out of the sand, your wives befriended me, and you all led us to a safe place to sleep even though your baby needed to go home and rest, since it was late.
Maybe it was the little girls who grabbed at my hair, having me eat with my right hand while doing henna on the left, who reminded me. While you were covering my shirt in pins and wrists in colorful bracelets, giggling at everything in Arabic I spoke to you, it seems that a lost notion wriggled loose and found its way to the surface.
To all the kind men that had paused their day when we were blatantly stuck in the middle of nowhere in order to offer a lift, you are a part of the reason. Having only a backpack and a couple bottles of water, and no mode of transportation otherwise, you drove us through the mountains, a wadi, or to the nearest town. Whether you realized it or not, you took us on an adventure of your own, making our time that much more special.
Getting a lift from a man and his son on their fishing boat. The man gave us his prized tilapia fish so we could cook dinner at our campsite that evening. Picture taken at the Queen of Sheba's Palace.
Possibly it happened while I was asleep under a gazebo, fatigued from long hours of travel, when suddenly you woke me as you placed a tray of tea and dates before me. You and your family invited us into your home because you wanted to make sure we were not hungry; you then took us to explore the tucked away treasure of Menghi, because for some reason we were deserving of your time.
The feeling must have struck on our way to the White Sands, where we stopped at a Bedu village halfway through the drive. The way that the quiet land sprang to life, children running and screaming toward us, giving little nose-to-nose kisses, hurriedly with excitement. My gut pounded from the insides as your mothers and fathers took us in, nourished us, and treated us like family. How you ran to the car and fetched my camera, snapping away with your little unknowing fingers. You gave me tangible memories for life, a token of my rather rude awakening.
Inside a village home where I dressed, spoke and ate with the other women and children. I am truly beaming at the joy given on this day.
What had happened is that I finally remembered what it meant to be a member of the human race. Adulthood has hardened me; I have forgotten to love thy neighbor, give shelter and food to those without, and simply radiate selflessness. The fact that I was in such awe every time somebody opened his or her door to us, further reminded me that something was wrong. I should not have been in such constant shock that a family would make themselves uncomfortable just to make sure that I wasn’t. Not something, but somebody was wrong, and that somebody was me.
Kindly and quietly, I was reminded of all that I should aspire to be as an individual. Just imagine what could collectively be achieved if we were to all strive in the same upward direction. Delving further into a bigger message, such selflessness is a part of the nature of the Middle East. Though quite possibly unaware, their small acts of kindness were unprecedented and these are the type of models that we should seek to exemplify in our own daily lives. Picture how different the world would be if kind acts birthed from selflessness were a universal duty.
