Think circa early 70's, the Middle East, real live spitting camels, an expensive camera, and mysterious nomadic Bedouins.

I was traded for 12 camels...

We were camped in the desert by the Red Sea,
a small nomadic tribe of students, multi-nationally
touring the shifting sands of the Sinai.
My Dutch friend Tony spoke seven languages fluently,
enough to get us into trouble every day of the week.
We decided to visit our nearest neighbors,
Bedouins camped at the dunes next door.
We sat down on blankets and rugs on the floor
in a circle sharing a hookah
and bizarre conversations.
I grasped bits and pieces of words, fronts and ends,
but could not yoke enough together to comprehend.
But Tony sure did.
Time passed quickly in furtive glances and
windmill gestures in smoky hazy air.
My Dutch friend bantered and bartered easily, it seems
no language barrier could stop his nefarious schemes.
When I nudged him gently it was time to go,
he shook his head, not yes, but no!
I stood up to leave but was grabbed by the sleeve and
pulled to nomadic ground amidst laughter all 'round.
Tony headed for the exit flap
shruggingly shaking his head as he said,
"They offered me 12 camels, what else could I do?"
I complained loud and long and
told him he was as good as dead
'till he traded me back,
but the Bedouins got mad and looked ready to smack,
'till Tony threw in his Leica with those 12 camelbacks,
then the flap opened up and we went out of that tent
We moved our camp to a dune far,far away.
That night poor Tony sang his
"I miss my Leica" tune.
While I plotted revenge,
I secretly smiled,
for 12 camels in those days
had been a good price
in those wild nomadic lands
of the Sinai.