The Empty Quarter isn't Empty

Author: Tor Eigeland
Released 31 October 2004

A Story Behind the Story Many Years Ago

Saudi Arabia Empty Quarter Transport
Photograph Contributed by Tor Eigeland

In many ways I dreaded the trip into the Rub al-Khali, the formidable Empty Quarter of southern Arabia. It was early summer and the heat could be intense to say the least - possibly soaring above 50 degrees Celsius - in the shade. And shade could be hard to find. My assignment (for The National Geographic Society) was to photograph Bedouin life in this sand sea that lies in the same arid belt that created the Sahara.

Very kindly the dynamic editor of ARAMCO WORLD in Beirut, Paul Hoye, and the ARAMCO p.r. people in Dhahran helped me set up this trip round about 1969.

The Empty Quarter, which covers some 650,000 square kilometers, is the largest expanse of sand in the world. You could throw in Spain, Belgium and the Netherlands - and still have lots of room to spare.

Up until the days of vehicles like the Landrover only one European ever crossed these sands. The one man who accomplished this feat was the intrepid British adventurer Wilfred Thesiger. Accompanied by a band of Bedouins he crossed the Empty Quarter on camel’s back and traveled throughout the region between 1945 and 1950.

Why did I dread this adventure? Firstly, knowing that my diet would basically be that of the nomadic Al-Murrah Bedouin - the toughest and proudest of all Bedouin - I had found out that one of their basic sources of nutrition was camel’s milk - warm from the camel. Their black camels are famous all over Arabia for their sweet milk - and there was no way I would be able to avoid drinking it!

Bedu Encampment in Empty Quarter
Photograph Contributed by Tor Eigeland

I knew from previous experience with Bedouins that I would enjoy their rice, boiled sheep, camel’s meat, endless sweet tea, coffee and dates. For some reason the thought of drinking warm milk straight from the camel had me lose sleep at night.

The test naturally came on the first night, having arrived at a Bedouin encampment where there were about ten tents and hundreds of camels. The three of us, an American anthropologist by the name of Donald Cole who was well-known to the Bedouin, al-Corby, the al-Murrah driver, and myself, were warmly welcomed.

After a tasty meal of rice and young camel’s meat eaten with the hygienic right hand we washed our hands with soap and water poured from a metal jug by the host’s son. Coffee and tea followed. ‘GREAT! NO CAMEL’S MILK!!!’ I thought to myself.

At this very moment our host dispatched his oldest son to milk their best camel. A few minutes later a big white bowl filled with milk, frothy on top, was proudly brought in - and presented to me. Thinking quickly I politely offered the bowl to the oldest man present as a token of respect. “No, no, no,” laughed the host. “You first. Drink, drink!”

Bedu Boy Milky Face
Photograph Contributed by Tor Eigeland

My plot defeated, I brought the bowl to my lips and had a small sip, trying not to taste it. To be polite I had another sip, then found myself guzzling the milk. It was utterly delicious - rich, creamy, slightly sweet. The host looked enormously pleased and everyone laughed, the tip of my sizeable nose being covered in white, milky foam. The ice was broken and I’ll never again dread camel’s milk!

I had also dreaded the extreme heat. And this with good reason. Although the desert nights, early mornings and evenings were wonderful, peaceful, beautiful, the middle of the day could be nightmarishly hot in a very claustrophobic way. Everyone has to find some kind of shade - often in the sand under the car when we traveled - and it was still nearly unbearable. Worst of all, you know there is NO WAY TO GET AWAY FROM IT!

Oh yes - and I dreaded getting stuck if our car broke down - especially since we were traveling in one car only. This did happen. Our engine quit in the middle of nowhere. At the hottest time of the day. And not only that. The big water tank in the back of our car had sprung a leak and we only had a thermos bottle of water for three men. In this climate a day or two without drinking anything could see us all dead from dehydration. We would normally drink several liters each per day - and hardly have to pee!

Were it not for al-Corby, our Bedouin driver and friend, Donald and I would almost certainly have died young. But al-Corby was totally unbothered. “Look!” he exlaimed - and pointed to the horizon. A long string of camels, at least two or three kilometers away, slowly moved along, looking for anything edible. Due to the extreme heat it looked as if they were floating in the air.

Bedu Riding Camel
Photograph Contributed by Tor Eigeland

Al-Corby shot off after them on foot in a loping stride. I remembered something Donald Cole had written about Al-Murray sayings: “To go there without the herds is to court death. With the herds it can be a land of plenty.”

Al-Corby returned with the ‘borrowed’ herd. We were safe. We milked two of them, fixed the car and after a few hours we carried on to the next major Bedouin camp at a well.

What else did I worry about? When nature calls and there is no toilet around, where does one go? The Bedouins are covered by their long robes which serve as built-in toilets. They simply move away a few meters and squat in the sand. Around the camps it seemed that no matter how far I walked with my roll of toilet paper - there was a Bedouin coming over the next sand-dune. Nothing goes unnoticed here. They can even tell whether a woman is pregnant by her footprints. It remained a problem.

And, yes, about women. I had to promise the al-Murrah that I would not photograph their masked women - something I had to respect. And, except for one time when a woman actually asked to be photographed, I observed this rule. But curiously enough I got to know some of the women in spite of their black masks. More than anything it was their intense, beautiful black eyes - often smiling - that gave their different personalities away. That and their voices.

The women never sat in the circle of men. They would gather behind us when we sat down for a meal - and often loudly made their thoughts and opinions known as we talked.

Another natural concern was for film and equipment. Normally I slept in the sand near the Bedouin family tents, my cameras and film put away next to me in tightly sealed aluminum cases. But in spite of the intense heat and the blowing sands I never had any problems with the Kodachrome films, nor with the cameras. The Kodachrome turned out to be indestructible as did the Nikon cameras. When the winds were too intense and the sands blew I used a Nikonos underwater camera as it is water and air tight. And sand proof.

One problem I had was that I was nearly always hungry. The Bedouin eat three times as fast as I do with their right hands, then jump up - meal finished for everyone! The problem was somewhat mitigated by the huge supply of Marsh bars that I took with me - and ate secretly at night under the starriest skies I have ever seen.

Instantly on return to civilization in the form of an ARAMCO guest house - Steineke Hall - in Dhahran I showered for an hour. Then, rushing to the dining hall, I ate a huge salad and two large t-bone steaks followed by 2 slices of blueberry pie - accompanied by two chocolate milkshakes. I would definitely have washed down the meal with at least one bottle of wine had I not been in Saudi Arabia.

I have now lived happily with my wife and daughter in a rural region in southwest France for some eleven years and still travel widely, using the uncluttered and efficient near-by Toulouse Blagnac international airport.

My wife Annabel and I recently restored our 200 year old barn next door, rebuilding the entire interior, installing discreetly all the necessary modcoms for self-catering vacation rentals. The website is: http://www.toreigeland.com/theoldbarn.

My personal website is: http://www.toreigeland.com.