I arrived. I’m back in Bethlehem – home to the magi, religious pilgrims, dear friends and Israeli Occupation. So I went shopping for a few “essential” odds and ends and returned home from the local mart with two bags filled with most of the usual suspects; a bog roll economy pack (thanks Mum you’ve trained me well), a few fresh eggs, a block of white cheese, some to-die-for chilli hummus and (now brace yourself, because this is the exciting part) – an 800ml bottle of soft soap. Ok, so that in itself is nothing out of the ordinary – soft soap can be found in pretty much every dusty village north of Timbuktu. But before your collective groans ricochet across the ether, I’ll have you know that this was no everyday hand-wash. This particular brand promised to leave the palms and finger-tips fragranced in none other than the scent of the Oud.
Yes, the Oud. Now for those of you who don’t know, the Oud is one of the most magnificent musical instruments ever. Period. Beyond its glorious physique comes a sound so rich and emotive that it’s enough to make you want to buy a weird-arse grocery item. On the walk back to the camp I found myself swimming happily in a creative synaesthesic coma. Keys in the door, I raced inside the small apartment and with the gusto of an ‘out and proud’ obsessive compulsive, I washed my hands. So what does it smell like? Does the fragrance evoke tunes of desert romances and Arabian nights? Not exactly, but it is quite pleasant. Think of a very heavy, heady musk, add a pinch or two of woody something-or-other and a slight hint of freshly painted sinus congesting varnish and you’ve pretty much got it.