| |
Aisha the camel sauntered into the Tuareg camp just before dawn so as not to be seen. She cursed herself for her ill luck; the Tuaregs valued camels more than anything. If she was seen the herders would know immediately she did not belong to them. They would fight over her and eventually she would go with the man with the most gold. She scanned the camp and was disappointed. The fortunes of these proud desert folks had apparently diminished since the last time she’d been among them, which had to be at least three centuries ago. Still, they would get her where she needed to go.
She worked her way to the middle of the herd before transforming. The back pack she carried lay at her feet; she dressed quickly then snuck into the camp. Another quick scan told her she was the only woman in the camp, which could pose an issue. She had no worries about her safety for she was a trained fighter and had bested many men in armed and unarmed combat. Her main concern was the oddity of her arrival. Aisha shrugged; there was no way she could avoid an unusual situation. She might as well be quick about it.
“Wake up you lazy goat herders!” she shouted.
Men stumbled out of their tents, clearing their eyes to the image of a beautiful but apparently crazy woman dressed in odd looking clothes and screaming too loud too early in the morning. One of the men, a tall, lanky fellow covered in a light blue robe and a dark blue shesh approached her with angry eyes.
“Who are you, sister? Why are you disturbing our sleep?”
“I need to go to Paris,” she replied. “Can you take me there?”
“Take you...to Paris?” The man laughed. “You are a mad woman! How did you get here?”
“I did not come here to discuss my circumstances,” Aisha replied. “I came here to get to Paris.” She reached into her bag and pulled out three large gold nuggets. “Is this enough to get me there?”
The man’s eyes widened. “Praise to Allah! Where did you get that?”
“You ask too many questions and answer none, goat herder. Can you take me to Paris?”
The man bowed. “Of course I can. We can leave immediately.”
He reached for the gold but Aisha snatched it away. Before the man could protest Aisha held a dagger at this throat.
“Don’t play with me, goat herder,” she hissed. “I sting like a scorpion.”
“I am a man of my word,” he replied. “I will get you to Paris.”
Aisha flashed a confident smile. “Good. Which camels are yours?”
The man laughed. “We’re not taking the camels! That will take too long, and camels can’t get you to Paris. My men are heading north for salt. If you wish to go to Paris we have to go south. We’re taking the truck.”
Aisha nodded, careful not to reveal her confusion. What is a truck? she thought.
The man turned away then cupped his hands around his covered mouth.
“Taleeb! Bring the truck!”
The answer approached her rumbling like a storm and smoking like a dung fire. It looked like a wagon without horses. She was fascinated but not surprised; over the years she had seen the ingenuity of man. The truck approached them then stopped. The door swung open and Taleeb climbed out. The man patted Taleeb’s shoulder.
“Make sure you get a good exchange. I will meet you here in a month.”
Aisha watched the man climb inside. She went to the opposite side and repeated his gestures, grinning triumphantly when the door opened. She climbed in and sat on the comfortable seat.
“By the way, my name is Busari,” the man said.
“I prefer goat herder,” Aisha replied.
“There is no need to insult me,” Busari argued. “What is your name?”
“Aisha,” she said. “Can we go now?”
They traveled south at a speed Aisha never thought capable of anything other than birds in flight. In a half a day they had covered the distance of a month on camel back. Her perfect smile grew so wide her jaws hurt. At this rate she would be in Paris in days.
They camped overnight, Busari sharing his targuella with her. Aisha bit into the bread with relish. She had always savored desert food for its flavor and simplicity. Her meals in Marai were sumptuous but wasteful. She slept that night with a content stomach.
The next morning, they continued on. Aisha tried to keep conversation between her and Busari to a minimum, but one question would not leave her be until she asked it.
“Why do you use camels to transport your salt when you have this truck?”
“The truck is much faster I will admit, but the camels carry more salt without breaking it,” Busari replied. “I have only one truck but many camels. One day I will have enough money to buy a fleet of trucks.” He patted his bag. “Your payment is a good start.”
Aisha cursed under her breath. She had paid him too much. She would have to be more observant once they reached Paris. She didn’t want to draw too much attention.
A small village appeared on the horizon as they made the transition from desert to the grassland of the Sahel. A paved road appeared from under the sand and the ride became much smoother and faster.
“Is this Paris?” she asked.
Busari laughed. “Of course not, crazy woman! This is Gosi. I have a friend here that will take you to Senegal. From there you can catch a flight to Paris. You do have enough money to take you to Paris, don’t you?”
“Of course,” Aisha snapped. She had no idea how much money it would take to get to Paris, nor did she comprehend his use of the phrase ‘catching a flight’.
They continued into Gosi, finally stopping at a mud-brick building in the center of town. A dark man in billowing khaki pants and a sweat stained white shirt came out to greet them.
“Busari, what are you doing here?” the man said. “I thought you’d be half way across the desert by now.”
“I was until I met this crazy woman,” he answered. “She wants to go to Paris but she doesn’t know where it is.”
The man helped Aisha from the truck. “I am Amadou. Why does my friend call you crazy?”
“Your friend is rude and stupid,” Aisha said. “I am Aisha. I wish to go to Paris. Can you take me there?”
Amadou laughed. “I think you are touched, Madame Aisha. I can fly you as far as Dakar. You can take Air France from there. You do have a passport, don’t you?”
“Of course I do.” Aisha had no idea what a passport was.
Amadou was more observant than Busari. “I have friends that can get you a passport. All this will be expensive; very expensive.”
Aisha reached into her bag and extracted more gold, considerably less than she offered Busari. Amadou’s eyes gleamed.
“You are heaven sent, Madame Aisha! I will make the arrangements immediately.”
Busari nodded. “You are in excellent hands. Amadou will take care of you. He’s an honest man and a good friend. I must get back to my salt. Good luck Aisha the crazy woman!”
Busari jumped into his truck and sped away amid a cloud of sand. Aisha followed Amadou inside the mud brick building. The air was incredibly cool despite the outside heat. She wrapped her arms around herself and shivered.
“Great, isn’t it?” Amadou said proudly. “I have the only working air conditioner in Gosi.” He went to a large white box across the room and opened it. He took out a bottle filled with a brown liquid, twisting the top to open it.
“I have the only working refrigerator as well,” he said as he handed her the bottle.
Aisha eyed it suspiciously and drank. Cool sweetness exploded in her mouth, followed by a slight burning sensation. She burped unexpectedly. Whatever this elixir was, she was totally in love with it. She sat calmly and waited, dazzled by the wonders surrounding her. Amadou held what looked like a small box to his ear and talked, stopping now and then to smile at her. He finally took the box down.
“My friends are awaiting our arrival. If we leave now we should reach Dakar by nightfall.”
Amadou strode out of the building and Aisha followed. They boarded another thing that looked like a truck only smaller. They sped across town to an open field. Another strange thing sat in the middle of the area. Aisha felt nervous and took another swig of the incredibly good elixir.
Amadou stepped out of the vehicle then patted her shoulder as he walked by. “Come on! My friends are waiting for us.”
They approached the thing and Amadou opened the door.
“How do you like my plane? It’s the only one in Gobi.”
“It’s...beautiful?” Aisha said.
She sat in the soft cushions. Amadou sat on the other seat behind a wheel that looked similar to the one Busari used to guide the truck. Aisha relaxed a bit. Whatever she was in must be some type of vehicle similar to the truck.
Amadou reached over her and she struck him on the head.
“Ow!” He leaned away rubbing his scalp. “I was trying to buckle your seat belt. It can be tricky.”
“I can do it myself,” Aisha looked at the belt buckle and was totally confused.
“Go ahead,” she said. “But ask permission the next time.”
Amadou reached across Aisha gingerly and buckled her in. He turned a key on the panel before him and the blades before the truck began spinning. Aisha was so fascinated it took her a moment to realize they were moving. The craft built up speed...then began lifting off the ground. Terror filled Aisha’s eyes despite her attempt to hide it.
Amadou looked at her and laughed. “Your first time flying, huh?”
Aisha nodded her head and drank more elixir.
“I’m not surprised. Most desert folk have never been up in a plane. As a matter of fact, there’s still quite a few that have never seen one. This is a little bugger. The plane taking you to Paris will be much bigger.”
Aisha sank into her seat, clutching her almost empty elixir bottle. This trip was going to be more than she expected, much more.