Spanning 11 countries, covering almost one-third of the African continent, the Sahara is one of the harshest environments on the planet. Water is scarce, food is limited, and nomads are struggling for a living. I never thought that I’d roam this mysterious, dangerous land one day and visit the home of a Berber family. This May, my friend and I went on a trip to Morocco, which not only is an exotic, mesmerizing country but also the most popular gateway to the Sahara desert.

Before setting off to Morocco, we’d already booked a three-day private tour taking us from Marrakesh to the Sahara and ending in Fes, a historic city famed for its leather tanneries. En route, we visited Ait Benhaddou, an ighrem (fortified village) where many Hollywood motion pictures were filmed including the recently-ended series Game of Thrones; and walked between the high cliff walls of the Todra Gorges in the eastern part of the High Atlas Mountains.

Driving us around in these three days was Muhammad, a 23-year-old Berber guy whose community is indigenous to Northwest Africa. Wearing a black shirt, a pair of tapered washed jeans, and a large metal rectangular ring on his index finger, this young man looked more like a fashionable kid from college than an inhabitant of the Sahara. Though patience and body language were much needed during communication, his English is better than most of the Moroccans we’d encountered. When asked where he learnt the language, he proudly said: “Life university. I was working as a cameraman taking photos for tourists. That’s where I learnt English.”

Growing up in a tent, Muhammad now lives with his father, stepmother and sister in a small village on the outskirts of the Sahara desert. With a spacious courtyard, Muhammad’s house is quadruple the size of my tiny apartment in Hong Kong. Without doubt, space is an abundant asset in this barren realm. However, the magnitude of the house also amplified its emptiness. Behind the metal entrance door is a dark hall with bare four walls, only fitted with a mini fridge. Muhammad’s father led us to the living room, where we joined his family for a cup of Moroccan mint tea, nicknamed Berber whiskey. While the stepmother was expertly mixing the tea with sugar, we set our eyes on the old-fashioned TV which was seemingly playing a religious program that we found incomprehensible.

There’re two bedrooms in the house, with carpets and blankets rolled out on the floor for slumber. Muhammad told me they’d sleep in the courtyard when the weather is too hot during summer. Their living standard is incomparable to city dwellers, but seeing the electronic appliances, the sheep barn and the suitcase that Muhammad carried to Korea a year ago, it’s not hard for one to relate them to the better-off group in the region. Liken to many developing countries, tourism has been a way out for local people to escape poverty.

The most exciting part of the trip was for sure roaming the Sahara desert on camelback and spent a night in a luxurious tent amid golden dunes. On the way to our accommodation, the sun began sinking, so as the temperature and visibility. A sandstorm was chasing behind our back like a raging beast and eventually swallowed us in. I then understood why the tour guide insisted that we wore a turban and a pair of sunglasses, which not only used to protect us from the sun but also the gust and the sand.

“What to do if you get lost in the desert?” Our guide asked. Without signs and directions, I couldn’t imagine how oneself can find his way out in this ever-changing landscape. “Follow the poop of the camels!” he giggled. The camel walking in front of me was actually defecating in the whole journey.

With beautiful decor and plush beds, our tent is a gem in the desert. But what makes it so luxurious is the in-suite shower. As water is a treasure here, we tried to wash ourselves as quick as possible. After dinner, we set our alarm at 5 am when the stars were highest and brightest. Lying on the bitterly-cold sand in our thickest clothes, we turned on the astronomy app on our phone, searching for different constellations and waiting for the fallen stars.

In the next few night after we left Sahara, we still kept looking up at the velvet sky. With so much light in the city, we didn’t expect to find the Big Dipper or the Orion, but we always pointed to the same direction. “See, that is Sirius, the brightest one among all.”