FIRE eaters, belly-dancers, stilt walkers, and surely every camel in the desert striding in a slow-motion cascade of muscle and bone – they were all there, at the Festival of the Sahara.
A musket fired and agile horsemen rose from saddles of colour-bright steeds to gallop at full speed, sabres waving. Bedouin musicians swathed in green silk beat tambours to choreographed steps imprinted for decades.
On the outskirts, nomadic Tuaregs watched with kohl-rimmed eyes from slits in indigo turbans.
For me the four-day oasis festival was the highlight of a visit to Tunisia at the northern-most tip of the African continent.
Held in the northern part of the Sahara, 475km south of the Tunisian capital of Tunis, the festival is a kaleidoscope of intoxicating experiences that seduce the senses. It’s also an opportunity to sample the simple friendliness of the people.
The idea behind the festival is for locals to pay homage to their roots. Until the 1960s, these people were nomadic; migrating across the desert with their flocks. Nowadays this way of life has almost vanished but memories are still fresh and the desire to celebrate them is real. Besides, except for limited agricultural pursuits, the area is now dependent on tourism.
Once a year the oasis towns of Tozeur and Douz come alive when the town’s population of 12 000 swells to 50 000. Most come from other north African countries – Tunisia, Morocco, Algeria, Libya, Mauritania and the disputed territory of the Western Sahara.
But don’t do what I did and arrive unaware of the festival only to find no accommodation – and I mean zilch. The difficulty is there are no fixed dates but it’s usually held in December. “The dates of every festival in Tunisia vary each year,” said Sonia Tanoh, Press Attaché of the Tunisian National Tourist Office. Miriam of Ranch Nomade Tourism also has no idea why they get the dates two months before the festival. “It makes our work of organising treks that fit in with the festival dates more difficult each year,” she said.
But don’t let this put you off.
Tozeur is surrounded by date plantations and is famous for its brickwork patterns.
It’s prettier than Douz and a better option to stay.
Douz is known as “the gateway to the Sahara”. Rolling sand dunes stretch to the horizon relentlessly encroaching on the town, silently creeping into the streets. It’s a major producer of “diglat noor” dates with over 500 000 palm trees. In ancient times it was an obligatory stop for Arab caravans on their way to Africa to spread Islam and the Arab culture.
Douz is 125km southeast of Tozeur. Travelling between the two is an adventure marked with signs warning of camels crossing. The road skirts the oases, then nothing but startling bleached-white salt pans. Called the Chott el Jerid, it’s the largest salt-encrusted lake in Africa. To cross it there’s an elevated causeway.
In Douz stalls piled high with fresh fruit, candy covered nuts and cool drinks line the road to the stadium. Tucked between bushes, women cook pancakes filled with a spicy mixture over hot coals.
Inside the arena, people fill steep stands waving flags. On the opposite side the “ships of the desert” surround Bedouin tents, date plantations and then nothing but sand stretching to distant hills.
While the first days’ festival at Tozeur focused on folkloric dance and music, at Douz it highlights animals and life in the desert.
The theme was Women in Bedouin Life, portraying children dancing for rain, drawing water from a well, wedding festivities and hunting. This was particularly bizarre as skinny Sloughi dogs raced after hares. A surreal experience as the trainer held his dog which impatiently pulled on its leash while his accomplice released the hare which bolted across the desert. At lightning speed the dog was released and gave chase to catch the hare. It was a gory, grizzly sight but the crowd went wild. The chase was repeated. In north Africa these dogs are vital for tracking down food.
Musicians, dancers and horse and camel riders from all over the Sahara took turns to show off their indigenous traditional culture.
Numerous races followed – by camels, horses and, a first at the festival, falcons. The camel fight caused much hilarity from spectators as the bad-tempered animals showed no interest in fighting. Instead, grunting loudly, they produced huge saliva bubbles as they ran away, chased by their handlers.
Elegantly tailored riders performed dazzling acrobatics astride galloping steeds while brandishing heavy gold swords. One rider flipped upside down in his saddle, his feet in the air and his head centimetres from the ground, while another horse carried three riders as they formed a human pyramid. Each team was dressed in a riotous blaze of colourful Berber and Bedouin garb, their horses decorated in gilded metallic-cloth blinkers with tassels, elaborate woven saddle blankets, and flowers; sometimes with all four hooves airborne.
Next were young Berber women with henna-etched hands wearing gypsy-style dresses, playing instruments and dancing. Kneeling in the sand they performed a “hair dance” rhythmically tossing their luxuriant manes back and forth in the balmy breeze.
The final event was a desert rodeo. A brightly dressed rider galloped around the arena to a drum rhythm as he gradually climbed to a standing position atop his horse. Once upright he jumped to the ground before springing back on again. Then he picked up first a girl, then a boy, always at a gallop, to hold them aloft. The audience went wild, shouting, applauding and waving. Poetry contests, film screenings, theatrical performances by folk bands, processions, a camel marathon and events for children were also staged.