Quiet Freedom

The landscape of Wadi Rum is striking. It's moon-like rock formations, rose and lavender sands, towering white dunes and spiny scrub impressed immediately. A day-long jeep tour was a visual schmorgusborg. It wasn't until 24-hours into my visit that I was struck with something nearly as rare for a city and suburb dweller - total and complete quiet.

After a night at a Bedouin-style camp in the desert, I set off on a walk. I communicated my route, my estimated arrival time back at the camp and set off for 6 hours of uninterrupted quiet. The only sounds: occasional flurries of wind, rocks beneath my feet as I passed through dry river beds...and my iPod when the quiet finally took on an eerie characteristic rather than a novel one.

Some might think that I ruined the experience with the iPod. What has technology done to the youth of today? I would like to offer an alternative perspective: What the iPod offered was a sense of total freedom. Initially I listened quietly to the music as if on a bus or a crowded subway car. Then, I started humming. I caught myself. Why was I humming when I could unabashedly belt out any melody or almost-lyrics at the top of my lungs. No one would hear. I could screech the highest notes of a Whitney Huston song, butcher the lyrics of a face-paced Snoop Dogg rap, pathetically scat along with Ella Fitzgerald. Quiet turned to complete vocal freedom. I rocked the desert.