by Karrie Hawkins Erenoglu

If I would have embarked on my journey to the Jordanian desert at my current age of 32, my sense of security and safety would have been so shaken up that I could not have endured the experience. Thank God I was so fearless and untamed at the age of twenty five.

Thanksgiving Day, 2000-

Under a blazing Arabian sky we’re riding through the Wadi Rum desert of Jordan on camels. Our two Bedouin guides are as intensely serene as the desert itself. Calm and open, yet strong and severe. My pale blue American eyes are mesmerized by the spectacular desert landscape. I am traveling with my brother. We have left our home in California searching out the wildest and most adrenaline producing experiences possible.

I’m getting a thrill out of the machetes and machine guns that our Jordanian guides are carrying, which are customary accessories for such men. Yet the feminine spirit inside of me feels totally overwhelmed, out of place, a young blonde interior designer traveling half way around the world from her home with just a skinny, unarmed Californian surfer dude to protect her . I try to relax and go with the experience but it takes all of my courage not to cry. My brother appears to be in a state of bliss from the raw experience and is absorbing it like a sponge which helps me to lighten up and absorb it too.

In the evening our tired camels are halted at some sort of camp. There is a huge bonfire surrounded by dozens of armed Arabian men engaged in some sort of thunderous chanting while firing their automatic weapons into the luminous desert night sky. A huge black cauldron of boiling food steams over the roaring fire. The cook stirs the pot with a long wooden stick and to my horror, a sheep’s head pops up to the surface, eyeballs, brains and all. The cook offers me the first bite. I nearly gag but don’t want to disappoint the expectant eyes that are watching me. So I put the chewy, scorching hot sheep’s head stew into my mouth and manage to somehow swallow it politely, the whole crowd bursts into laughter and cheers at the sight of my half smiling, half horror-struck facial expression.

After dinner we ride away from the bonfire camp into the desert darkness for a few miles. We get off the camels and unpack a random assortment of blankets to sleep on. I am expecting a nice snug tent and at first I feel disappointed and anxious about our outdoor sleeping arrangement. But then I settle down on my back under an unforgettable canopy of stars. Lying there serenely under the deep glowing expanse of the universe itself, I don’t know if I’m awake, deep in meditation, or simply lost in the kaleidoscope of the heavens. This magical state of consciousness lasts until the sand begins to appear pink with the rising sun.