What am I doing?
But then I look at the fountain, at the palm trees gently bending, and I know. I’m doing what I was meant to do. I’m following my passion. And what better lesson to teach my daughter?
“Mama, down!” Ella tugs at my hand, wanting to toddle around.
“Okay, but stay close,” I say, though I’m aware that likely means nothing to her. I might as well tell the sun not to rise before I try to keep a toddler in one place.
She makes a beeline for the plants, naturally, and I’m about to redirect her when I hear raised voices near the hotel entrance.
One of them is Calvin’s.
I scoop up Ella and head toward the commotion, curiosity getting the better of me.
Calvin is standing in front of a street vendor who’s set up a small cart just outside the hotel gates. The vendor is holding up various items and speaking rapidly in Arabic. Calvin is shaking his head, trying to respond, but it’s clear he doesn’t understand.
“No, I don’t… I’m looking for…” He pulls out his phone, trying to use a translation app, but the vendor is talking too fast. “Dammit.”
The vendor, an elderly man, switches to broken English. “You buy? Very good price. For wife?” He gestures at the scarves. “Beautiful, yes?”
“No, I’m not… I don’t need…” Calvin looks genuinely flustered, which is oddly endearing on someone usually so composed.
I can’t help myself. I step forward.
“As-salaam alaikum,” I greet the vendor.
His face lights up. “Wa alaikum as-salaam!” He launches into Arabic, relieved to have someone who speaks the language.
I turn to Calvin. “He’s asking if you’re looking for anything specific. He also wants to know if I’m your wife and if he should be offering scarves or something else.”
Calvin blinks. “You speak Arabic?”
“Fluently. It’s kind of necessary in my line of work. Though I’m pretty rusty.” I turn back to the vendor. “Ana bahith ‘an shi’ ma’ayyin?”
Calvin clears his throat. “Tell him… ask him if he knows anything about the old temple sites. The ruins outside the city.”
I translate, and the vendor’s expression becomes more serious. He launches into a long explanation, gesturing toward the desert with one hand.
“He says yes, he knows the area. His family has lived here for generations. He says there are many sites, but most are picked over or dangerous. Unstable structures. He’s warning us to be careful if we’re planning to go out there.”
“Ask him about the site that we’re going to.”
I do, and the vendor nods enthusiastically, speaking quickly.
“He says that’s different. That land is special. His grandfather used to tell stories about it. He said there was a temple there dedicated to lovers, a place where people would come to pray for their marriages. He says no one has properly excavated it because the regulations are too complicated, but…” I pause, listening as he continues. “He says if you’re going there, you should bring offerings. Dates and honey. For good luck.”
Calvin is watching me with an expression I can’t quite read. “Thank you. That’s… helpful.”
The vendor pulls out a small brass pendant shaped like an eye. He presses it into my free hand, speaking urgently.
“He wants us to have this,” I translate. “It’s a protection charm. For the baby. He says the desert is not always kind to children, and this will keep her safe.”
“How much?” Calvin reaches for his wallet.
“La, la, hadiyya.” The vendor shakes his head, refusing payment. He speaks directly to me, and his words are so earnest I feel my throat tighten.
“He says it’s a gift. His granddaughter died last year. He wants Ella to be safe. He wants all children to be safe.”
I blink back unexpected tears and press my hand to my heart in thanks. “Shukran jazeelan. Allah yerhamo.” Thank you so much. May God have mercy on her.
