I arrived two days late for my visit, but not at all through my fault, as I had arranged to go by train to Boghari, where my host would send me a car. I arrived at the specified time, but the conveyance did not come for forty-eight hours. I naturally expressed astonishment and some annoyance, but it seemed to surprise the driver, to whom a day or so before or after meant so little.
When I arrived, dinner awaited me, and I was pleased to see that I was being treated really as one of the family, and that there were no tables or chairs, no knives and forks. The party was assembled in a pillared courtyard open to the sky, with jasmine and rose bushes growing around. Two lemon-trees stood at either end, and above us a July moon shed a gentle radiance.
We sat down in three circles. In the first group was the bash agha, myself, my caïd partner of the sheep farm, an old schoolmaster and a very aged imam. In the second group were the bash agha’s sons, his nephews, and his chief clerk. In the third group were my head shepherd, the chauffeur, and the rest of the retainers.
The food was first of all placed in the center of our circle, and we all dipped into the common bowl: when we had had enough it was passed to the second circle, who did likewise, until it was finished by the third party. While the third group was eating we began our next course, and the servant was able to join the last group.
“Servant” is not exactly the right word, as “khedime,” which is literally translated by “servant,” is almost a term of insult. The people who wait and look after the house of an Arab chief are not considered in the same way as those who minister to us. In the first place they are not paid, but are merely clothed and lodged—they and their families, and when they get too old they are kept on and their sons take their places for the actual work.
When dinner was over and we had washed our faces and hands and tea and coffee had been brought, we stretched out our legs on the carpet. While we in our little circle began to smoke, the other groups broke up and moved silently out of the court, for in the presence of their elders they could not light a cigarette; in fact, during the whole of the meal they had conducted their conversation in respectful whispers.
For an hour or so we sat and conversed on all kinds of subjects, then one by one the Arabs dropped off into a doze, no constraint, no endeavoring to keep awake when sleep dominated. For a while they slumbered, then, coming to again, said good night and went off to the other part of the house to rest, while I settled myself in the vast guest-chamber in a large brass bed.
In the middle of the night there was an earthquake. It did not last very long, but for a moment the house shook violently. The household rose in commotion, and the bash agha came rushing into my room fully dressed, which proved to me again that these men sleep in their clothes. He looked at me in surprise.
“How is this,” he cried, “an earthquake and you remain in bed without moving?”
I laughed.