According to the guidebook, Al Ain’s camel market is well know throughout the country and the last of its kind in the UAE, and “always a great place to enjoy some local colour.” (Yes, British spelling…most things are written from and for the British perspective.)
Our visit to the Al Ain camel market was obviously anticipated by many other tourist and even MORE so by the locals. Driving up to the camel market, there was one small tour bus already there and another pulled in behind us full of Japanese tourists. As people descended from the bus, they were set upon by locals anxious to help them make the most of the “camel market experience.” My companion decided that the best way to enjoy the camel market was from the comfort of the Prado.
(Japanese tourists reboarding their bus. Photo taken from the comfort of the Prado!)
So I ventured forth alone, and was quickly beset upon by new friends excitedly exclaiming “Bee-bee camul! Vedy small! Cum Cee! Bee-bee, its o.k.! Take picture? Can ride camul! Cum, cum, these way! Bee-beeeeeee!”
After shaking many hands, patting many backs, hearty smiles, words of thanks and friendship I was able to wind my way through the crowds into the bowels (no pun intended) of the camel market where men were men and camels were their tools and evidence of wealth.
(A turkish towel makes a fine camel saddle!)
(A baby camel!)
There were more camels at the market than cows at a state fair. There were big ones, little ones, yes even baby ones. The men in the market apparently have much camel talk about the various animals and some transactions were made even as the camels were loaded into trucks. After surveying the camels throughout the market I made my way back towards the entrance to face my friends again.
(What do you call that which comes forth from under camel tail?)
“Hello my friend! Where are you from, Germany? Bee-bee camul – cum cee! Living in Dubai? How long? How much money do you make?” After a long conversation, an English lesson was apparently desired and my friend picked up a camel “pellet” from the ground and asked “What do you call this in English…sheee?”
“We call it dung, D-U-N-G.”
“Dung-ah?”
“We say dung, D—U—N—G.”
“D-U-N-G, dung-ah?”
”D---U---N---G, dung.”
“D-U-N-G, Dung-ah?“
“….Right, very good!”
“Thank you my friend and Eid Marabak! Enjoy your holiday!”
I made my way back towards the Prado, thinking escape was near only to be snared arm in arm and dragged back towards the camel market by the last person between myself and the safety of my personal vehicle.
“Hello my friend! Where are you from, Germany? I am from Afghanistan! Come see Bee-bee camul! Take picture with my keffiyeh on your head?” and he whips the towel off his head and starts to wrap it onto mine. “No, thank you, my friend. I have seen the bee-bee camul. It is very nice. I enjoyed it very much. I am enjoying Al Ain very much. I also like your country, Afghanistan very much. I would like to visit some day. Eid Marabak!” And with much hand shaking and graciousness, I excused myself from my newest friend and continued exploring Al Ain.
Our visit to the Al Ain camel market was obviously anticipated by many other tourist and even MORE so by the locals. Driving up to the camel market, there was one small tour bus already there and another pulled in behind us full of Japanese tourists. As people descended from the bus, they were set upon by locals anxious to help them make the most of the “camel market experience.” My companion decided that the best way to enjoy the camel market was from the comfort of the Prado.
(Japanese tourists reboarding their bus. Photo taken from the comfort of the Prado!)
So I ventured forth alone, and was quickly beset upon by new friends excitedly exclaiming “Bee-bee camul! Vedy small! Cum Cee! Bee-bee, its o.k.! Take picture? Can ride camul! Cum, cum, these way! Bee-beeeeeee!”
After shaking many hands, patting many backs, hearty smiles, words of thanks and friendship I was able to wind my way through the crowds into the bowels (no pun intended) of the camel market where men were men and camels were their tools and evidence of wealth.
(A turkish towel makes a fine camel saddle!)
(A baby camel!)
There were more camels at the market than cows at a state fair. There were big ones, little ones, yes even baby ones. The men in the market apparently have much camel talk about the various animals and some transactions were made even as the camels were loaded into trucks. After surveying the camels throughout the market I made my way back towards the entrance to face my friends again.
(What do you call that which comes forth from under camel tail?)
“Hello my friend! Where are you from, Germany? Bee-bee camul – cum cee! Living in Dubai? How long? How much money do you make?” After a long conversation, an English lesson was apparently desired and my friend picked up a camel “pellet” from the ground and asked “What do you call this in English…sheee?”
“We call it dung, D-U-N-G.”
“Dung-ah?”
“We say dung, D—U—N—G.”
“D-U-N-G, dung-ah?”
”D---U---N---G, dung.”
“D-U-N-G, Dung-ah?“
“….Right, very good!”
“Thank you my friend and Eid Marabak! Enjoy your holiday!”
I made my way back towards the Prado, thinking escape was near only to be snared arm in arm and dragged back towards the camel market by the last person between myself and the safety of my personal vehicle.
“Hello my friend! Where are you from, Germany? I am from Afghanistan! Come see Bee-bee camul! Take picture with my keffiyeh on your head?” and he whips the towel off his head and starts to wrap it onto mine. “No, thank you, my friend. I have seen the bee-bee camul. It is very nice. I enjoyed it very much. I am enjoying Al Ain very much. I also like your country, Afghanistan very much. I would like to visit some day. Eid Marabak!” And with much hand shaking and graciousness, I excused myself from my newest friend and continued exploring Al Ain.
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