A Special Place

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In Those Days I held a fascination for the Middle East. There was little information available to me about the region other than by reading the likes of Little Black Sambo, and watching movies such as Sinbad the Sailor, and Lawrence of Arabia.

It was a magical kind of place, with thinks like flying carpets, charmed snakes, belly dancers, tents and harems of the most beautiful women in the world. Tigers that could talk, and camels that could go without a drink for ages. Kings with huge mustaches and turbines. Beautiful women dressed in the finest linens. Sand every where. Dust storms. Blazing sun and a bit of shade from a tiny palm tree near the oasis. It was a special place that I could only dream about.

I don't think the countries we know today were even defined then as they are today, but there were places that sound familiar in today's news. Like Tripoli, Istanbul, Constantinople. And famous rivers like the Tigris, Jordan, and the Euphrates.

Now, either the Middle East has changed or perhaps it has been me. I don't understand the region any better to day, than I did then. But the magic I once knew no longer exists.

Today, I know there are no flying carpets with princes. The sand I once thought was beautiful is no planted with oil derricks, and the wind blows for ever. Although many still ride camels, they now tote AK47s instead of scimitars. They are radical, full of hate, and seem to seldom shave or shower. Lunatics and dictators. Murderers and thieves. And a religion of hate.

But it was fun for me to glance back to those magical days and places that I once thought I knew.
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