The Bedouins of Petra: Life at a World Heritage Site I SLICE

The first time I visited Petra, I inadvertently woke a Bedouin wrapped in a blanket as he slept beneath the stars on a natural terrace. He offered to be my guide to the old city. That very evening, he invited me to meet his tribe known as the Bidul. Since then, I have returned every year. With them on foot or riding a donkey, I have explored the steep trails beneath the mountains. Thanks to them, I have discovered the silent sculptures in the cliff faces. I have shared their seasons, their homes, and their desert. These nomadic seasons, these houses hewn from the rock, this desert where time and space are as one. I had always believed that Petra was an abandoned city. The Bidul told me that they all lived in these caves until they were hounded out just thirty years ago. Each time I go, I meet up with Bisma. Together we move to the rhythm of Bedouin life, where the day is devoted to the collection of wood, food, and water. Come on Rashid. Time to get up. Where are you Remy? She put the rice and sugar in the new larder. Stay in bed Awad. Come on Remy. It's seven o'clock Rashid. Get up and go to the monastery. Leave me alone. Get up! Don't you spill that water young man. I'm not going to spill the water. Why are you washing your feet here and not at the well? Before, we all used to live in the caves. We used to fetch wood, fetch water with our sheep. Everyone came together. And we had evening gatherings. It was much better than it is now. We used donkeys to bring the water. We used to go and fetch wood. We used to weave, cook on a wood fire. We washed. Our life was better. Then they were driven out of Petra, all of them. Everyone was driven out of the caves. And they left, and they got nothing in return. No land. Nothing. Now they're trapped, packed in like sardines. The Bedouin tribe's chieftain, Sheikh Salama, is the beating heart of this film. I listened to him for hours as he told me of his tribe's history. He agreed to talk to me, something he had always refused to do before. We lived in Petra before the state of Jordan was created. Our existence in Petra dates back maybe hundreds of years. I don't know. No one is sure of the exact date. We farmed the land in and around Petra and had a few sheep. Everyone knew what was theirs. If someone tried to steal someone else's property, they'd get shot. It was all done amicably. This is mine. That's yours. You've marked out this piece of land. That's yours. I've marked out this one. It's mine. During the winter, the Bedouins stayed in the caves, and in the summer, they would head into the desert. The Sheikh told me that Petra was perfectly suited to their semi-nomadic lifestyle, and that the Bedouin would supplement their income by offering lodgings to passing tourists. But an event in the early 1980s would throw their lives into turmoil. Jordan requested that Petra be classified as a UNESCO World Heritage Site. World Heritage Classification has its roots in the 1972 Convention concerning the Protection of the World Cultural and Natural Heritage, which was adopted by UNESCO's member states as an international standard allowing them to protect sites considered to be of value for humanity as a whole. The governor of Mahan, His Excellency Shaheer El Mouaznef, came to see us. We prepared a meal in his honor and everything. And while we were eating, he said, Do you know why I'm here? We said we didn't. He replied, I'm here to get you out of Petra. I said, Fine. You are our guest. Eat. He ate. And then he asked, How do you respond to that? I answered, Our response? What do we get in return? You're going to make us leave here just like that and leave us with nothing? Is it necessary to evict people to protect a monument? Soon afterwards he came back to tell us that the state was going to build homes for the Bedouin people. Where? That remained to be seen. The entire Bedouin tribe agreed to this as long as the homes were built around Petra. Umm Sayoun was chosen as it is close to Petra and it would be easy to come and go. Iskan al-Bidul, the village of the Bidul, was built in 1984 to the north of Petra on the edge of the UNESCO protected park. But the Bedouins preferred to call it Umm Sayoun after the hill it was built on. Our compensation was to be to live in Umm Sayoun and that all our demands would be met. Those who owned sheep, camels or horses would have shelter for their animals. And every child, on reaching adulthood, would be given a 500 square metre parcel of land where they could build and prosper a little. I told the prefect that if we were to leave Petra, our jobs, businesses and all our souvenir shops had to be safeguarded. He agreed. We were very happy because it secured the future of our children for a hundred years or more. Reassured by the terms of the bargain, the first families left their cave dwelling for houses in Umm Sayoun. On the 6th of December 1985, UNESCO inscribed Petra on its World Heritage Register. The site passed from Bedouin hands into those of the whole human race. But things were about to get more complicated for the Bidul tribe. They took our land, but we got nothing in return. They took our caves, but they only ever built the first batch of houses. For this reason, Salman still lives in Petra's caves. He's never far away, but it sometimes takes me several days to find him. I ask his cousins, his neighbours. I finally found him by the spring with his wife and five children. Hey, can we work here? Mum will be here soon. She's not far away. Here she comes. Some homes were built, but not enough for all the Bidul. Some of them were given houses, while others got nothing. The ones who ended up with nothing stayed in Petra's caves. I stayed in Petra because I had no home, nowhere to live. They don't want to give me a roof over my head, nor any land to build a house on. So what am I supposed to do with my children? Where can I take them without anywhere to live?