Dear Readers and Fellow-Apes; 2008 was a Murky and Hapless Year! Let us hope that 2009 does not turn out to be even More Murky and Hapless!
I intentionally did not wish you a Merry Christmas, because Christmas is another story for another Posting at another time; and I do not wish you a Happy New Year, since I believe that ONLY FOOLS ARE, OR CAN BE, HAPPY ALL YEAR ROUND. I do, however, wish all of you A GOOD YEAR! With a little Good in one's life, one can be a little happy, which is all one can ask for in one's short sweet dream one calls a life-time. BY GOD AND SATAN!
A Jack of many trades and master of all; I am honest to the core and I hate lies, deceits, pretensions, hypocrisy, treachery, betrayal, and stoic compliance; and I despise – and actually pity – Human-Apes who follow-the-herd-or-pack
I expose and reveal the lies, deceits, pretensions, hypocrisy, treachery, betrayal, and blind, deaf, and stoic compliance, and Human-Apes who follow-the-herd-or-pack; I tell or write the truth; and I say what I mean and mean what I sayI fear nothing; least of all, death
If I must fear anything at all in life, then let me fear what I think and know of myself; because, in the end, one’s knowledge and opinion of oneself is what counts most. All the world may think and believe one is such and such, but one knows one is such and such. Also, I like to look in the mirror and like what I see and know about me.
I invite comments, remarks, criticisms, and even insults – so long as they are straight to the point, in order for me to correct or adjust myself accordingly. What I do not welcome and won’t accept or tolerate is HORSE-SHIT!
Dear readers and felow-Apes; with every page, every report or article, every paragraph, every sentence, every word, and every letter; I thank you for taking the trouble and the time to read My Not-So-Humble Comments.
AN ADVENTURE IN ALGERIA: A true story about me and my mates when we were at university; and it took place……
I could have broken this up into volumes or parts, but decided to let you have it as it is – in one huge mass. In other words, LONG AND SWEET, AND BY GOD!
Quite some decades ago – come to think of it, it seems to me like the memory of a dream – three of my university-mates and I went on a long journey by Land Rover across the Sahara desert from Algiers to Tamanrasset and Djanet. We wanted to – we actually had to – visit The Tassili Rock-Paintings. We had read about them in our Geology classes, which were part of our Archaeology/Paleontology studies. It took us four whole days to prepare for it because we wanted to make the most of the trip, since we needed the information to prepare our final thesis – a lengthy academic paper: a dissertation based on original research, especially as work toward an academic degree; a lengthy formal written treatment of a subject, submitted as a requirement for a degree.
Travelling in the desert is actually very simple, but there is no room for mistakes. All we would need were a good track-map, a good driver-and-guide, light clothes for the day time, and long-johns and sweaters for the night time; and notebooks, pens, cameras, and as many large plastic drums of water as the vehicle would hold. Tents were out of the question, since they would take too much space and too much time to set up and dismantle, so each of us had a foldable sleeping-bag, and a blanket.
We started very early in the morning on a Saturday and proceeded from Algiers to Biskra – perhaps you ought to look up the map. When we arrived there, we stopped at the oasis to rest. The Roman Bath and the beautiful date-palms were so interesting and tempting that we stayed there for two days. We ate dates and local dishes of meat, cooked with rice and nuts and peppers, and we visited the Roman Bath several times. We enjoyed it very much, but in the end we had to move on to complete our journey.
Just before dawn, on the third day, we filled the drums - the empty ones - with water from the oasis, bought a bunch of dates, and went on to Touggourt. It was very hot, so we had to stay there till the sun went down. At dusk, we proceeded slowly to Hassi Messaoud, and arrived there just before dawn the next day.
From Hassi Messaoud to Tamanrasset is a very long stretch, so we had to stay in Hassi Messaoud for the whole day. We breakfasted on dates and goat’s milk and spent the morning exploring the immediate area, and making notes – our driver-cum-guide had warned us not to venture too far. Soon, he came after us and called to us: “HAI; YA AJAANEB!” This means “HEY; YOU FOREIGNERS!” And pointed upwards to the sky, waved us over, and punctuated his brief performance with: “YALLA!” It was lunch time: rice; cooked with meat, nuts, and peppers; and washed down with goat's milk. After lunch we slept till we were woken up by the sound of camels braying nearby. It was a camel caravan which departed late in the evening on the day we began our journey. They had arrived around mid-day, and had been resting, too. It was almost dusk and getting dark and they were getting ready to tackle the long stretch to Tamanrasset.
They left an hour before we did because we had to wash and check our equipment before doing so, but because our Land Rover was much faster than the camels, we overtook them just after midnight. We were surprised to see how far they had travelled before we were able to overtake them. Camels travel very fast in the desert. They are not called Desert-Schooners for nothing.
At the foot of the Tassili Mountains, we turned left and drove up the mountains and through a pass at the top. Then we drove down the other side to Tamanrasset. We arrived in Tamanrasset just after dawn the next day, and we were very happy to notice that although the sun had begun to rise, it was still cool enough to keep our sweaters on.
Tamanrasset is about 1,400 metres above sea level. It is the capital of the Touareg country. The Touaregs are a nomad tribe well-known for their code of honour, courage, and ferocity. They are very hospitable, generous, and kind, but they can be very ruthless and relentless. Hospitality is their Mode, and Vengeance is their Code. Tamanrasset was once the point of departure for the convoys on the roads to Agades in Niger, and Gao in Mali. We had no watches, so we could not tell the time. In any case, watches are useless in the desert, where the heat of the day fries the brain, and the cold of the night freezes the bones.
Just before noon, we left Tamanrasset and proceeded to Djanet which has a lower altitude. The climate is dry, and the temperature is mild. There is a beautiful oasis in the heart of a valley at the foot of the Tassili Mountains. It is the starting point for the camel-caravans visiting The Tassili Rock-Paintings. The tracks leading to the rocks and caves are so steep and dangerous that only camels can make the trip. We spent the night at the oasis, and very early the next day, we packed our gear into knapsacks with water bottles and our cameras; one for taking ordinary pictures, with a zoom lens, and one for taking slide pictures (both were equipped with automatic flash), and joined a camel caravan leaving for the caves.
We arrived at the caves at around mid-morning, and began to explore the area, taking photographs as we went from cave to cave and rock to rock. Soon, it began to get dark and we realised that we would have to make several more trips if we were to see enough of the paintings in the caves and on the rocks in the mountains. We began the slow and perilous trip back to the oasis. We got back to Djanet just before sundown, and set up camp at the oasis.
We joined the natives who were having a feast around camp fires. It seemed they were celebrating a festival, although we never found out what festival it was. We could not communicate because of language difficulties – or the language barrier, so to speak. We could not speak their language, and they could not understand anything we said, and our guide’s total English vocabulary consisted of only about ten words, including short phrases that were straight to the point: we go now; we stop now; yes; no; here good; here not good. And he always punctuated each word or phrase with YALLA! Which, by the way, means: COME ON! There were several other foreigners in the camp. They had come from all over the world to see the paintings. A few of them were students, like us; some were locals, and the rest were tourists. One of them, a local, said the natives were celebrating “The Festival of Fools.” They were celebrating the good business they were making, because each of us had to pay $20 in cash for every trip to the paintings. This made us all laugh even though, deep down, we all knew that it wasn’t funny. Another local said it was insurance for the camels, because, to the Bedouin, every camel is worth twenty tourists. And we all laughed again. We dined on the usual dish of meat; cooked with rice and nuts and peppers, but that time we were served a local wine in calabashes which was very sweet, but very powerful. We slept like logs every night.
In the end, it took us more than two weeks to complete the journey. We saw the paintings – well, most of them, we thought – and we filled several pages with notes and sketches and took several pictures for our theses, but we could not derive much knowledge or information on or about the life, history, social customs or ideas, of those ancient and primitive, but very brave, resourceful, and interesting people, who, despite their lack of basic tools and implements, were able to leave their mark, bearing a message for future generations and visitors like us, even though it is still hidden.
The rock-paintings show large human and animal figures with geometric and abstract symbols throughout the scenes; also, cattle running and herdsmen with bows and arrows, and a few stone-forms symbolizing the genitals. However, scholars and archaeologists have not been able to definitely date the rock-paintings. They have not been able to decipher the hieroglyphic language engraved on the rocks and in the caves, either, and because of this, the significance of the art forms, and the explanation for the prolific artistic works concentrated in this particular area, still remain a mystery.
The journey back to Algiers took less time, because we were dazed by the paintings, and each of us was very quiet, lost in his thoughts of the paintings, and of the long-dead people who, though primitive, and with only crude and backward tools, implements, and materials, were able to show that they had art and culture, and that they lived in a society, however ancient.
We checked our equipment and left Djanet at noon on the day of our departure, and reached Tamanrasset late in the evening. We rested for an hour and, at twilight, proceeded to Hassi Messaoud; arriving there at dawn the next day. We were forced, by the heat, to wait until the evening of that day. We then proceeded straight to Biskra, driving through Touggourt without stopping. We arrived in Biskra a few hours before dawn, and spent the day eating, drinking, resting, visiting the Roman Bath, and thinking, talking about, and discussing the paintings. In the meantime, we checked our equipment and prepared for the final trip back to Algiers.
We could not sleep because of the heat, and, also, because we had a lot to talk about and discuss, and there wasn’t much time. We had to catch the 6.00am flight from Algiers to Beirut, which was leaving the next day.
We left Biskra at sunset and arrived in Algiers at 5.00am the next day. We packed our cases, returned the Land Rover, paid our bills, paid our driver-cum-guide and gave him a hefty tip, for which he was truly grateful and kept saying: SHUKRAN! SALAM ALEKUM! ALLAH MAAKUM which means: THANK YOU! PEACE BE UPON YOU! GOD BE WITH YOU, and were driven to the airport in a taxi. We arrived at the airport just in time for our flight to Beirut. We paid the taxi driver after he had taken our bags and cases out of the boot, called a porter, who placed our luggage and equipment on his cart and went into the flight (departure) lounge. We tipped the porter, and checked in at the airline kiosk (desk), and were ushered to the gate, and on to the aircraft.
It was a hectic, tedious, tiresome, cumbersome, and troublesome, but very interesting, exciting, enlightening, and memorable journey. I, for one, shall not forget.