Bedouin Lifestyle Fades as Modernity Intrudes

"News from outside didn't reach the oasis back then," the Bedouin elder, 74, recalled as one of his granddaughters entered his dirt-floor salon with a cup of strong sweet tea.

These days, with talk radio, round-the-clock TV and daily newspapers, the world elsewhere is as familiar to el-Nour as his vast Western Desert backyard.

"It is now 24 hours Iraq, Bush and Saddam," el-Nour said with a smile as he offered a guest his own cup of tea. "Things have changed so much for us here, but somehow for the better."

El-Nour remembers when there was no road to Farafra, an oasis 280 miles west of Cairo. He can't count the times that he made the 10-day desert crossing by camel to southern Egyptian cities, where markets awaited his village's dates, olives, figs and "mish mish," or apricots.

Now, on days without sandstorms, you can drive from Cairo to Farafra in six to seven hours. There are enough shops here to satisfy most local farmers. The Internet brings English tutorials into Farafra's primary schools.

The "old village," a cluster of sometimes crumbling mud-brick houses on narrow lanes, sits on a hill above the "new" township's sprawl of residential neighborhoods, schools and stores.

Fifty years ago, only 300 people -- all Bedouins -- lived here.

Now, 3,000 Bedouins share the village and adjoining settlements with 10,000 Egyptians who moved from the overcrowded capital and Nile Delta towns. Hundreds of tourists come each year for guided treks into the White Desert.

Times and fortunes are changing for the 1.25 million Bedouins across Egypt, driven by population and financial pressures; agricultural, residential and industrial development; globalization and the information boom. Some Bedouins worry that the life of the desert traders is disappearing. Strikingly, it is often younger Bedouins who are most anxious.

"Some people are sticking to their traditions, culture and habits, but not many," Tamer Mohamed Wahid, 21, a desert guide, said while strolling through the old part of Farafra.

"Now people are worried about money, which is something people never used to worry about in places like this," said Wahid, whose blue ski vest and jeans looked more suited to downtown Cairo's malls and cinemas than a desert oasis.