“The Thousand-Star Hotel”

BY AWAKE! WRITER IN FRANCE

THERE are many like me who would willingly swap a night in a four-star hotel for an evening in the desert, gazing up in wonder at the starry sky. That is how I felt after my trip to the magnificent south of Tunisia, North Africa. There I enjoyed the amenities of the so-called thousand-star hotel​—the desert tent of a nomadic shepherd.

Throughout man’s history, millions of people from as far apart as the Asian steppes, the Sahara, and North America have lived in such “thousand-star hotels.” Although numerous tribes have been forced to abandon their tents over the last century, thousands of nomads continue to roam the deserts. Their legendary hospitality makes a day spent in their company unforgettable.

“Houses of Hair”

In order to visit a nomad camp​—or a douar, as it is called in North Africa—​my guide and I drive through the desert in an old Land Rover. After asking some shepherds for directions, we finally see in the distance the silhouette of several blackish-brown tents. Once out of the car, we are impressed by the deep silence of the desert. The Bedouin say that this silence clears the mind. We are greeted warmly by our host, who invites us into his tent. It is about 40 feet [12 m] long, 16 feet [5 m] wide, and 7 feet [2 m] high. We enter the section of the tent that is reserved for men and guests and sit down on handsome rugs. The other side of the tent, hidden  from view by a curtain when guests are being entertained, is reserved for the family and for cooking. As we talk, our hostess kindly brings us some traditional mint tea, while the daughters, who have remained in the kitchen part of the tent, knead dough to make flour cakes. These delicious flour cakes are cooked on the hearth in an earthenware casserole.

In the course of conversation, I ask my host how the roof and walls are made. He is more than happy to tell us. Actually, the panels used are made up of, not a single piece of cloth, but several strips roughly 50 feet [15 m] long and 20 inches [50 cm] wide that are stitched together. Some larger tents have 12 or 13 strips. How are these strips of fabric made?

During the bright, sunny afternoon, I see one of my host’s daughters sitting on the sand in front of the tent with a spindle in her hand, deftly transforming animal hair into a thick yarn. This yarn is woven into long strips of fabric on a horizontal ground loom. Loose weaving ensures good ventilation. However, when it rains, the threads swell, closing up the weave and making the cloth waterproof. Without a doubt, the Arabic name for a tent, bait esh-shaar, meaning “house of hair,” is appropriate.

Upkeep

How long does a tent last? The nomads take good care of their desert homes. My host tells me that the women in his household weave at least one strip of cloth per year. Generally, each year the most worn-out strip is replaced with a new strip. Thus, a panel with eight strips will be completely renewed in as many years. In some places the strips are unstitched and turned over so that the better-preserved interior surface faces the outside.

How is the tent supported? The middle of the tent is held up by four poles of apricot wood, although other woods are sometimes used. The two central poles are about eight feet [2.5 m] long. One end of each pole is driven into the ground, while the other end of each pole fits into a decorated hardwood ridgepole that is one and a half to two feet [45-60 cm] long. The ridgepole is slightly curved, giving the top of the tent the shape of a camel’s hump. The sides and back of the tent are supported by several smaller poles. To see how the tent is fastened, we go outside. We see that guy ropes, which are made of goat hair, are used to anchor the panels to the ground.

Behind the tent, a thick hedge of dried bushes gives protection from wild animals. Not far from the tent, the family’s ass is tied to a peg. Just beyond, in a round enclosure, is a herd of sheep and goats, which are carefully tended by our host’s daughters.

A Simple Life-Style

By now the flour cakes are ready, and after being dipped in a fruity olive oil, they are a delicious treat. Looking around, I am struck by the simplicity of the nomads’ life-style. For furniture, there is only a wooden chest and some woven bags, rugs, and blankets. My host’s daughters are proud to show me their simple equipment for carding and spinning wool. But apart from that, they have few material possessions. This reminds me of the wise saying of the poet-shepherd David, who lived for a while in tents: “One piles up things and does not know who will be gathering them.”​—Psalm 39:6.

Many nomads​—probably inspired by their surroundings—​are poets, and they love to take part in poetry contests. They are also very fond of stories and proverbs. For my part, I quote some proverbs from the Holy Scriptures that are full of the perfect wisdom of “the One who is stretching out the heavens just as a fine gauze, who spreads them out like a tent in which to dwell.” (Isaiah 40:22) The time has come to take leave of my hosts. I thank them warmly for their hospitality and wonder when I will next have the chance to spend time in one of these charming “thousand-star hotels.”

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Flour cakes being cooked on a hearth

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Musée du Sahara à Douz, avec l’aimable autorisation de l’Agence de mise en valeur du patrimoine et de promotion culturelle de Tunisie; camels: ZEFA/ROBERTSTOCK.COM