“Would you ever ride one?” A raspy voice crept over my shoulder. “who me?” I responded, arching my neck and leaning back slightly to see who was in the chair behind me. Turning some more, I peered over my ray-bans and brushed back the side of my hood. I saw this guy. Also wearing a hoodie and sunglasses, he had a big smile and probably as happy as I was to be in the Moroccan desert. Humble guests for the time honoured tradition playing out mere yards in front of us. 

 

His faded sweater read “Gimme Tha Loot!” across the chest above a portrait of Biggie Smalls wearing a bejewelled crown tilting slightly to the left. I was wondering why this dude was staring so blankly at me… wait… I had been so surprised to hear someone speak to me in english that I hadn’t even answered his question. Before I could, he prompted again “The camels. Would you ride one if you had the chance?”. “Aw man, you know this! No doubt!” I blurted back, reaching my hand out. “I’m Rel” I said.  "Devakuo, great to meet you.”  “Are you saying you can get me on one of those things?” I asked as he shook my hand with a vice type grip. “It’s possible, I have family taking part in the races. Probably not one of the faster older ones, but I think I can set it up” he said. “Yoooo that would be DOPE! Hook me up! ha! ” I said jokingly. All my subtlety and coolness had been briskly washed away in the excitement of the moment. 

 

As the gallops got further away, the wind and sand swirling throughout the open faced tent  became more apparent. In an instant the chairs around us were empty. All of the spectators had moved to the far back where refreshments were being served. We joined them and our conversation continued. “So where you from Devakou?” I asked. “ahh. that’s Devakuo, not Devakou” he kindly replied, letting out half a chuckle. “ah my bad” “Devakuo, Devakuo..” I repeated under my breath following him down the aisle of neatly arranged red velvet chairs. “I’m from Huelva, España” he said. “And you?” Now I was really grinning. “bro, I live just outside of Segovia!” He paused and turned back. “That’s crazy, I knew we had some kind of connection. You look like you like hip-hop too” he said and began to laugh. I fired back “you already know son! ha!” the less formal fist bump connected, followed by more laughs. We talked at length about the hiphop we listened to growing up, shared stories and tilted back sodas before heading back to our seats to catch the start of the next and final race of the day. 

 

The crowd abruptly came to a hush and put a quick end to our boisterous conversation. A sharply dressed gentleman in his mid 70’s stood out front where everyone could see him, the tent flap above him casting a slight shadow over his face every few moments, relentless rays from an angry sun bathing his bright blue eyes with intermittent flashes of UV. He didn’t wince once. An interpreter stood to his left, and with a booming voice gave meaning to the speaker's Arabic for those of us who lacked the local tongue. 

   

“Welcome one and all, to The 3rd Sakia El Hamra International Camel Race Festival here in Es-Semara!” Clapping broke out across the crowd but quickly fell back into respectful silence. The speaker continued.  “Camelus dromedarius." the crowd seemed to get even quieter somehow. He continued "Top speed of 50 to 65km per hour, are  also known as Arabian dromedary, or one humped riding camel. Rarely, if ever found in the wild, this semi-domesticated species mostly follow their nomadic owners from one feeding ground to another….” he faded for a moment “But, on special and traditional occasions such as these, we are honoured by their nobility, stamina, and companionship with a first hand, close up observance of their grace and rarity, here in the unforgiving western Sahara. Their riders and breeders are second to none, and devote their lives to caring and training these most wonderful creatures created by Almighty God. Let us welcome them again for this last race, and show our appreciation with a loud voice together!”  The crowd ERUPTED! Jubilance, clapping, shouting, chanting. Even a few on the sides were dancing where the closely aligned seating gave way. I was sure there was music, but if there was I couldn’t tell where it was coming from, the crowd was so loud. The graceful beasts and their confident riders nonchalantly took their places in a long line up, the closest to us being just a couple yards away to our right.  Before anyone had fully settled down in their seats across the tent, BANG!! A shot rang out from the other side of the line up. I didn’t see it, but I can say for sure it definitely wasn’t any ordinary starter pistol. And just like that, they were gone. Just as quickly as they had arrived. A plume of dense beige-red sand defied gravity in the place where the riders had been, swirling upwards as the thundering of a hundred hooves pattered off into the distance. Wow. That moment was truly one of my most memorable. Then he did it. 

 

I saw this blinding glint in my right eye. “I make beats” Devakuo piped up, holding out a CD in his left hand. “take it” He said, shoving it forward. “wait, really? we’ve been talking this whole time and you left this for now?” I said, taking the disc from his hand, a smile widening across my face. DEVAKUOBEATS was scrawled across the front in fat cap maker with an email address scribbled below. “But yo, did you know I’m a emcee? or do you just go around with a bag full of these handing them out to randos like me?” I asked, glancing happily towards him, and then back towards the disc in my hand. A shy response crept through his lips “well, I wasn’t sure, but I thought maybe I saw you on insta before, so I thought I’d give you one. Old school you know?” “Yeaaah man, I get it! respect fam, I’m looking forward to taking this in, DEVAKU-OOOH!” “OOOOHH” he resounded as we began to laugh in unison again. 

 

———

 

I took one step up into the bus door, and paused to look back. The sun slightly peaking over the horizon bathed everything in an orange glow. Tent polls were being carefully ungrounded and  settled into piles, and soon what was a beautiful gathering place for so many was neatly flattened, folded and carried off in cube vans. Glinting blocks of orange and yellow lego in the distance now, disappearing behind the rising dunes. I found my seat at the back of the air-conditioned coach and nodded off into a deep sleep.