Camel Crazy: A Quest for Miracles in the Mysterious World of Camels

Camel Crazy: A Quest for Miracles in the Mysterious World of Camels

Camel Crazy: A Quest for Miracles in the Mysterious World of Camels

Camel Crazy: A Quest for Miracles in the Mysterious World of Camels


    Qualifies for Free Shipping
    Choose Expedited Shipping at checkout for delivery by Wednesday, September 27
    Check Availability at Nearby Stores

Related collections and offers


In this page-turning odyssey, a mother on a mission travels the globe — from Bedouin camps in the Middle East to Amish farms in Pennsylvania to camel-herder villages in India — to obtain camel milk, which dramatically helps her son’s autism symptoms. Chronicling bureaucratic roadblocks, adventure-filled detours, and Christina Adams’s love-fueled determination, Camel Crazy explores why camels are cherished as family members and hailed as healers. Adams’s work uncovers studies of camel milk for possible treatment of autism, allergies, diabetes, and immune dysfunction, as well as ancient traditions of healing. But the most fascinating aspect of Adams’s discoveries is the gentle-eyed, mischievous camels themselves. Huge and often unpredictable, they are amazingly intelligent and adaptable. This moving and rollicking ode to “camel people” and the creatures they adore reveals the ways camels touch lives around the world.

Includes users’ and buyers’ guides to camel’s milk

Product Details

ISBN-13: 9781608686483
Publisher: New World Library
Publication date: 10/29/2019
Pages: 304
Sales rank: 653,655
Product dimensions: 6.00(w) x 8.90(h) x 0.80(d)

About the Author

Christina Adams, award-winning author of the memoir A Real Boy, is a journalist and speaks on autism, writing, culture, and camels. Her work has been featured by National Public Radio, the Washington Post, the Los Angeles Times, Gulf News, Dubai One, OZY, WebMD, Tata SKY TV, Global Advances in Health and Medicine, and more. She lives in Orange County, California.

Read an Excerpt



"What else do they do with the milk?"


The camel stands calmly, munching something hay-like, placid in her dirty-blond summer coat. Her great head grows like a question mark from the curve of her muscular neck. Padded leathery feet keep her comfortable on the bare spots of the lawn. She ignores the children offering pink tufts of cotton candy, staring at her with freckles ringing the Os of their open mouths. She was trundled in a horse van to this college in Orange County, California, two hours and a rocky mountain from her home in fire-scorched farm country. Her eyes watch the humans scattered on the green grass at this Sunday afternoon book festival. Her long lashes hide the clear inner eyelid that will automatically close if an unlikely coastal sandstorm roars in.

This camel knows her mission. She tolerates the admiring glances and rude remarks, like "What's a camel doing here?" She knows that her human owner, the alpha bull of her herd, is nearby if she needs him. Little can faze her, as she has no natural predators and a nuanced startle reflex, although fluttering fabric and sudden movements may annoy her. Her eyes express a confident view of her place in the world, composed at this moment of a task, the pen that holds her, and something to nibble, with a little water on the side. Today, her job is to be a camel at a fair.

What she doesn't know is that her blood can work medical miracles, her flesh is kin to that of million-dollar racing camels, her organs are debated, and her milk has healed the sick for centuries. She also doesn't know that she's about to launch a movement that will drive her species's price sky-high, that people will clamor for the milk she gives, which will help fuel a modern resurgence of her kind.

Neither do I. At this moment, she's just a camel, and I'm just a fearful, newly separated single mother. She will inspire me to seek the surprising remedy for my son's autism symptoms, and to become a camel milk expert. This creature will throw me into research, dispatch me across the United States, India, and the United Arab Emirates, and send my words to places like Malaysia, Sweden, England, Cyprus, Mongolia, France, and Pakistan. She'll cause scoffing and admiration, inspire scientific research and many products.

But now I stand by her broad side, as bored as she is, watching her. She's tall and stolid, seemingly unflappable. Camels are like that, able to keep going without complaint for miles and kilometers, hauling salt, fat-bellied tourists, large milk cans, towing wagons, trucks, and carts draped in glittering scarlet curtains, carrying entire households on their backs. But I don't know this. I just wonder why a camel's here if none of these kids are riding it.

I see the long eyelashes blink once. I spot a flapping tent behind her and walk over to investigate. There are small white bottles of camel milk lotion. And soaps. I like soap. I lift a smooth, wavy bar to smell it, and the scent of lavender moves lightly across my upper lip. A man in a green baseball cap shifts behind the counter. "Hi," I say. "Is that your camel?"

"Yes, sure is. We make soap and lotions from camel milk. Very natural and healthy stuff."

I try a dab of the white lotion. It's thin and spreads easily, as light as sunshine. Then I ask, "What else do they do with the milk?"

I don't know why I'm asking. Perhaps boredom is driving me to prolong the chat, or maybe it's just how I am, always curious. Probably both.

"They give it to premature babies in hospitals in the Middle East. It's supposed to not cause any allergies."

"Really? It's nonallergenic milk?"

"It's said to be close to mother's milk, like breast milk."


I look at my son, Jonah, sitting on a nearby slope, knees nestled in the grass as he reads an airplane book. His four years of autism therapies have cost half a million dollars. Right now he's a happy, blue-eyed, seven-year-old charmer fitting few people's idea of autism, but a trace amount of milk can send him into a trance, staring at a wall or laughing at nothing. He can disappear inside his head or up a ladder, atop a wall or anywhere. Or one day, I worry, out of his classroom and into special ed.

I bring my son to the camel, stand him before the rounded belly and single hump. I tell him, "It's a camel," and he says, "Okay, Mom."

I have to find this milk.



"My people love the camels."

— Elhadji Koumama

Back home from the fair in the house of my expiring marriage, I steal a few minutes in my office, tapping at my keyboard as Jonah watches television. Research isn't new to me — it has slowly become my life. No child passes a kindergarten readiness test with autism undetected without a parent who does the work. He's had behavioral, speech, occupational, and social skills therapies, medications and supplements, plus coaching from me around the clock. It's a boon that I started my now-vanished career at the Pentagon. Working in politics, aerospace, and public relations has taught me how to figure things out. But living the therapy lifestyle has provided a whole new education. Studying psychology, biology, law, and medicine has quickened my intuition.

While holding that sweet-smelling bar of camel milk soap, I'd had two ideas. One: If they give camel milk to premature babies, maybe it could reboot Jonah's immune system, the way human breast milk enriches an infant's health. That might stabilize his functioning, which goes haywire not only on milk and cheese, but on sugar and other carbohydrates as well. I've seen the changes reflected in his lab tests. Maybe we could get smoother conversation, as he needs to develop more social skills to accompany his perfect enunciation. Maybe it could help him live more easily in the world. Two: This would be a great dairy substitute for people who can't drink regular milk. I could make his cupcakes and a hundred other foods with this milk!

My computer search for "camel milk" reveals four, maybe five PubMed citations. These items, from an international database of medical journal articles, read like a foreign language. The articles I click on are obscure reports from remote countries. There's something about failed attempts to make cheese and a slightly revolting paper about wound healing. But that's it. I print out the pages and stack them neatly on my desk. As I go to make his dinner, I look longingly back, and promise myself that I won't forget.

A couple of months later, on a rainy New Year's Day, we have to leave the lovely home where Jonah was raised. His father, who still lives there, is keeping the house. When we sat down to tell Jonah we were divorcing, our son said, "You guys have spent a lot of time apart, and you argue a lot. Will I live in a house with a second story?"

"Yes," I said. I knew he wanted an upstairs.

"Yay!" he said, raising his arms in the air. "A second story, just what I always wanted!" But then he sobered. "So I'll visit Dad, but you'll still take care of me mainly, right?" He looked at me for reassurance, but he wasn't really upset.

"Yes," I said, hiding my tears with great relief. After everything we had been through, I admired him so much. I couldn't prevent this home from crumbling, but at least he would be happy about the new place I'd had to fight for.

Now we live in a two-story condominium behind a freeway and a convenience store, near other stores offering massages and payday loans. Child and spousal support from Jonah's father will temporarily keep us afloat. I have fantasies of moving to New York as I'm traveling to speak on autism and my new book. But as I am Jonah's primary caregiver, with less help than before, my writing's always cut short.

To make money, I try freelance business writing. But I can hear Jonah jumping off the sofa or kicking the upstairs balcony he's hanging from as I interview executives by phone (I give up). School meetings, cooking foods for his special diet, pharmacy visits, blood draws, brain scans, and six-hour round trips to his doctor take up my time. There are play dates, after-school lessons, his homework and mine (for the divorce). His busy hands constantly investigate and break things apart. Sometimes he intelligently talks me to death. When we're out for a casual dinner, I grab and hide parts of his bread, rice, and limp cheese-free pizza to keep his carbohydrate load down. More than a small serving can send him into overdrive, making him wild, silly, and unreachable. Doses of digestive enzymes help a little, until the company changes the formula. I subsist on handfuls of nuts and grow thin and isolated. My main relief is visiting the gym, slamming balls in an echoing squash court.

Every morning, I grind Jonah's medicines into a sippy cup and mix up his potato milk, a powdery substitute for the cow, goat, and rice milks he can't tolerate. (Nut milks cause allergic reactions, and soy contains estrogens that may not be good for young boys.) Every afternoon, I monitor his after-school snacks for traces of dairy. But I don't forget about camel milk. One day while Jonah is at school, I drive to the library of the University of California, Irvine. Scrolling through PubMed again, I find a small trove of camel citations. Camel diseases, camel diets, camel mastitis, camel — wait.

"Etiology of Autism and Camel Milk as Therapy." It's a brief new article, published a few months ago by the Israeli veterinarian Reuven Yagil and another researcher, Yosef Shabo. When children with autism were given camel milk, their symptoms improved, although the study only covers short-term results. There's another study by the same authors: "Camel Milk for Food Allergies in Children." It says that eight children recovered from severe food allergies, mainly to milk, by using camel milk as a treatment of "last resort." So somebody else has thought about this too!

We're under attack from cheese. It makes my son flap his hands and walk on tiptoe (a sign of neurological disorders), pace in circles, and detach: it makes him act "autistic." He doesn't do these things on a dairy-free regimen. Although I ban dairy from his diet, it turns up everywhere. If camel milk can help with food reactions, it's a far better remedy than I'd hoped.

I go home and keep reading about camels, about the countries where they live: Saudi Arabia, Kuwait, Ethiopia, Pakistan, Kenya. I find an online list of camels for sale in America, but no one writes me back.

At the gym, I tell Bash, a new squash- and polo-playing acquaintance, about my camel milk hunt. A thirty-something entrepreneur from Pakistan, Bash says he's heard of camels in Israel. He offers to bring some milk back from his next business trip there. He treats Jonah and me to a horse-riding lesson, and we canter against the blue California sky, my worries briefly vanishing in laughter. Sometimes there is kindness in the world.

In early summer, I attend a jewelry party at a well-to-do friend's house. But this isn't your typical suburban jewelry show. A nearly seven-foot-tall man called Elhadji Koumama is showcasing his jewelry and leather goods. Majestic in a tobacco-brown robe and purple-black head wrap, he places a thin silver bracelet on my wrist. It's engraved and has a raised edge. His family made it. "We call that style camelback."

"You have camels in your country?" I ask.

"Do we have camels? Oh, in Niger, we have so many camels. My people love the camels. We take them very far in the desert, making a caravan. Bringing salt. You never heard of that?"

"I've heard of Niger, but not the camel part. Where is it?" He smiles warmly, revealing strong teeth. "It's very far away from here. You can come visit. But don't come now. The rain is very bad and the wind too strong, too many sandstorms. Wait till the weather is better."

He is a Tuareg, a member of a tribe that lives in and around the Sahara Desert. "Sure, we drink the camel milk all the time. You come, you will drink it, stay with my family."

I didn't even know how to say the name of his country properly, but I know it's in Africa. He pronounces it Nee-jair, with a French j, like je suis, meaning "I am." And je suis curious about him, because he knows camels. For hundreds of years, his people have traveled with them. "Do you think any of your people would come over here and take care of camels? Sell the milk?"

He smiles. "No, I don't think they want to leave where they are. Maybe they could come and help for a little while, but not stay." To hear someone casually reject the American lifestyle makes me wonder what allure the alternative holds. It must be pretty good over there for these devoted camel people. The desert of Niger sounds very far away, but I like the idea of a place that has sandstorms and camels.

I buy the camelback bracelet. Elhadji gives me blessings and good wishes. The host takes a photo. Later when I look at it, I see my arms bare against his sleeve. Only his face shows outside his garments. We are both smiling.



"Battling thousands of years of tradition isn't easy."

— Dr. Amnon Gonenne

It's nearing Christmas when my friend Bash goes to Israel. I'm at a chilly outdoor café when he calls me on his return. "You want the good news or the bad first?"

"Bad first."

"Okay. First, I got some milk. It wasn't as easy as I thought," he said. "We had to drive pretty far to get it. I had a friend to help. I actually got it on the plane."


"But when I got to JFK in New York, they wouldn't let it in. Customs threw it away."

"Oh no!"

"But wait," he says. "I think you can do this, but it has to be the right way. I found a guy you can call in Israel. Plus, with me being Pakistani, and Muslim, maybe it's best that I not travel with any suspicious packages, you know?" he says wryly. I hadn't thought of that. How sad that a person carrying out a good deed has to bear the added weight of racial profiling. But he gives me a number. "Somebody smart, a doctor or professor, who knows about camel milk," he says.

At home alone in a quiet house, I take a deep breath and call Israel. The foreign ringtone heightens my suspense. A man answers gruffly, not in English.

"I'm calling from the US. I got your number from a friend. I'm looking for camel milk."

"Oh. I was asleep." It's around 11:30 p.m., he says. Luckily he speaks enough English to tell me "Call this man" and give me another number. I apologize deeply. He isn't too happy but is still very helpful. I feel guilty — but now I have a connection. I fall on the bed, staring delightedly at the ceiling.

Next day, I realize I know nothing about Israel. Images of Bible scenes and dancing the hora come to me. Falafel. The Palestinian strife and the bombing of outdoor cafés, where I vow never to sit if I go there. I know about World War II and Jewish homeland history. But modern Israel seems like a polished place, so the fact that they even have camels is surprising.

I call the number I was given. The man who answers is Eyal, and he's apparently the owner of a camel farm. "Yes, I have camel milk," he says. His English is very limited.

"I want to ask you some questions about the milk. How do you test it? Has anyone used it for health reasons?"

We stumble over words. He makes a fast decision. "My uncle, he's doctor. He can talk to you." He gives me another number. Soon I'm speaking to a deep voice with no trace of an Israeli accent.

From Tel Aviv, Dr. Amnon Gonenne says, "Hello. I know some things about camel milk. What do you want to know?" He's an informal adviser to Eyal, sort of a family member if not an uncle by blood.

"Are you an MD?"

"I'm a PhD and researcher. I work in biological sciences. Cancer is my most recent focus," he says concisely. This is how Amnon says everything, I'll come to know. Trained at Israeli and California institutions, he's got a brilliant scientific mind. The most remarkable part is its openness, a quality many doctors tend to lose.

"I have a feeling camel milk might help my son. So I'm trying to find it."

"Why? Does he have cancer or a disease?"

"No, thankfully. He has autism. I heard the milk is nonallergenic," I say. "And I hope it can help his immune system."

"Why would he need that? What kind of conditions does he have, in addition to autism?" He hasn't heard of the new Israeli publication.

"Some kids with autism have a very impaired immune system. He's on medications for it. Also, he can't handle cow milk, and sugars and other carbs make him hyperactive and silly." His silence tells me this is a new concept to him. I try again.

"Autism is classified by the DSM as a developmental or psychological disorder, and thought to be untreatable," I explain. I outline the basic description: a cluster of symptoms including narrow interests, social problems, and repetitive behaviors. I say how these are often accompanied by digestive and immune-system issues. Genes are part of the picture. In addition, environmental factors like pollution, power sources, pesticides and other chemicals, and parental exposure to toxins can alter genetic expression. While identification of previously unrecognized autism cases accounts for some of the increase, the fast-rising American autism rate is real and continues apace. In short, autism is a mystery, just like camel milk.


Excerpted from "Camel Crazy"
by .
Copyright © 2019 Christina Adams.
Excerpted by permission of New World Library.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

Table of Contents

1. Meeting The Camel. Meeting a camel and its owner gives Christina the idea that camel milk might help her son Jonah’s autism symptoms, and be great for people who can’t drink regular milk. Her quest to find the milk begins.

2. Searching for The Next (Camel) Step. As she investigates the mysterious substance, she meets her first camel herder, a friendly Tuareg from Niger.

3. Connecting to a Camel No-Man’s Land. A Pakistani polo-playing friend brings camel milk from Israel but it’s discarded at customs. He gives her a phone number and she tracks down a doctor. She and the cancer researcher connect over the lore and medical use of camel milk. They create a theory on why camel milk might help autism.

4. Milk From Eden. Christina travels to Los Angeles Airport, hoping the Israeli doctor will send the frozen Bedouin camel milk with a mother of a child suffering extreme bleeding. Finally she holds it in her hands.

5. Project K - Where the Camels Are. Christina tries to locate camels. She teaches a college class on camel milk and the students inspire her to reach out to a local camel owner.

6. An Oasis of Camels. Christina travels to Oasis Camel Dairy, where she meets Gil Riegler, the Dr. Doolittle of camels, and the ranch full of birds, donkeys and turkeys he shares with his bird-handler wife Nancy. She interacts with camels for the first time, learning about their nature and strength. Oasis doesn’t sell camel milk. But they ask her to come back and the relationship is born.

7. Camel Milk Miracle. Pushed into an emergency situation, she decides to give her son the milk. It has an astonishing overnight affect on him.

8. The Miracle Knows No Borders. No one knows how camel milk works, so she changes the amount of camel milk her son drinks with dramatic effects. As the milk proves its power in her son (30% improvement in autism symptoms), and other long-lasting health benefits, the USDA veterinarian at Los Angeles Airport urges her to contact Washington. She becomes the first person to gain USDA federal permission to import camel milk for autism.

9. Camels: A God-Given Marvel? Christina learns more about camels and where her son’s milk came from. They feature prominently in the lore of many countries, for good reason, as they are unlike any creature in the world.

10. “Forty-Eight Bottles of Milk In the Fridge…” With the blessing of the USDA, Christina lays her hands on 48 precious bottles. But disaster strikes. Luckily Gil Riegler and the Bedouins come through.

11. Getting Close to Camels. Camels become more important to Christina as her goal is for everyone to have access to their milk. At Oasis Camel Dairy, she strengthens her knowledge, learns camel behavior and hierarchy, and hears how camels saved Gil Riegler’s life. She plans to follow the camel path further.

12. Healing With Camel Milk As years pass, camel milk proves its worth in Christina’s son as she advises other moms to use the milk. She learns more science and connects with more camel owners. Then through Facebook, she learns that Amish men are now milking camels in America. Their milk is also effective for her son, proving it’s not limited by country, breed or feed, but comes from the camel itself. She decides to go public.

13. A Public Birth. Christina writes an article that goes viral in the US and international health and camel communities, as virtually no one knew about camel milk for autism and other scientific benefits. She starts speaking on camel milk and attends Oasis Camel Dairy’s first “camel clinic.” As financial investors swoop in to investigate, camel people share their handling secrets. She meets feisty Marlin, an Amishman who sets tongues wagging, before a baby camel is born with the help of a famed camel surgeon.

14. Camel Feel the Soul. To know a camel is to love it. But there are reasons to fear it. As people jump into camel ownership, they learn the hard way.

15. The Power of Camel Milk. As more people use the milk, like the woman who tells Christina about her son’s violence, scientific research increases. The mystery and power of camel milk in various human diseases starts to be revealed. So why isn’t it officially approved for autism treatment? Money.

16. Behold the Amish. On a humbly beautiful Amish farm in Pennsylvania, Christina meets two brothers and their families who live quietly Biblical lives. These “American pastoralists” run a national farm-food business with paper and pencil. Now they’re milking camels.

17. Camel Encounter. A breeding camel couple engenders an online complaint, so Christina re-imagines their relationship for the disgruntled viewer.

18. A Muslim Kid Might Be A Camel Milk Savior. A young Saudi visits Christina, asking for help to start his camel milk business in America. Can he pull off the legal and cultural maneuvering it will take?

19. A Modern Desert Family Talks Camel Milk. A young Saudi family shares thoughts on camel milk.

20. Fundamental Differences. The bearded Saudi meets the bearded Amishman at an Oasis camel clinic and two fundamental hearts beat as one, bonding over evolution (it’s a myth) and camels. Yet the differences make themselves clear even as camel milk makes the leap to a store. Christina then writes a peer-reviewed medical journal article about camel milk, autism and her son and it attracts the interest of global scientists.

21. You Knows Nothing About Camel. As her profile and involvement with camels increase, camel cultures from the far corners of the world reach out online. Are they interested in camels, or more? One Indian veterinary technician tries to connect.

22. A Glamorous Camel Farm Look Like Heaven Top reproductive camel scientists beckon her to Dubai to visit the world’s most pampered herd of 3,700 camels. Observing embryo transfers, secretly riding shotgun in a luxury camel race and helping autism families is part of the fun.

23. Camel Milk in the Nobel Lab. UCI scientists team with Christina to unlock the secrets of camel milk in a Nobel Prize-winning lab. The results reveal a greater mystery and produce a scare for Marlin.

24. Doug Baum's World is Full of Camels. Cameleers form a bridge between cultures, and Doug Baum, who makes a living as a US Army Camel Corps reenactor and Middle Eastern tour guide, shares his life, thoughts and camels at his wild and woolly Texas farm.

25. I am a Camel Boy. No One Can Take That Away. Displaced Somali nomads in California, who grew up in a country where camels are family and currency, give eloquent testimonies with gentle humor. They confirm the legends about camel milk as their cultural losses leave Christina moved.

26. Marlin Takes a Stand on Heaven and Earth. Marlin reveals his basic philosophy and how camel milk is part of a greater good.

27. Clash of the Camel Milk Sellers. When Marlin grows suspicious of Walid’s ways, he suspects Walid of using camel milk to promote Muslim extremism in America. So Christina asks Walid himself if he’s ‘practicing jihad.’ Walid shares his outlook on religion and camel milk, as the gulf between the two men widens.

28. A Revelation Reveals the Fundamental Truth. When Walid makes extreme claims on his website, the difference between him and Marlin is revealed.

29. In a Sacred Grudgematch, Camels Get an Ass-Beating. Are camels really sacred in Islam and why can’t two camel fundamentalists just get along? Columbia University’s camel history expert Dr. Bulliet gives a pointed discourse on camels-as-supermarket---and the importance of the donkey’s penis in Christianity and Islam. He says America and the Middle East are like warring cousins and explains why Walid behaves as he does.

30. Will the Amish Survive? As camel milk begins selling across the country, Amish farmers come into their own. An Amish buggy hit by a car triggers a fatalistic discussion with Marlin, who reveals the daunting path the Amish must take to keep their pastoral culture, and their camels, alive.

31. What Kind of Crazy Thing is Next? Donkey Milk? As her son Jonah is now in high school, the extent of his progress and her work is evident as he and Christina discuss Gandhi, camel milk and the news about donkey milk.

32. Mother India Rediscovers Her Heritage Treasure. Like most camel countries, India has overlooked its camel knowledge. A Rolex Award-winning camel scientist and a large Indian media group invite Christina to raise awareness of camels and help families with autism. People turn out in droves. But when the phone rings late at night, what do the police want? (Hint: a VIP has an autistic child.)

33. Can an Old Camel Caste Survive the New India? The famous Pushkar Camel Fair is a legendary gathering of camels for sale. But the reclusive Raika camel herders, whom Christina reported on for Open Democracy, need help. Their culture is dying yet camels are more valuable than ever elsewhere. She spends days on the ground with the men, meeting their camels and seeing their dismal future if things don’t change.

34. Help in Suffering. Dancing camels, decorated camels, snake charmers and herders fill the grounds at the Pushkar Fair. Here, sick or injured camels get free medical treatment. But will the Raika accept it? What happens when old India meets new? And how do you treat a bellowing unt?

35. Raika Village. Young Netha Raika wants to save his caste’s camels and offers a visit to his village of herders, where two female shepherds open their field home. Hand-cooked food, pink nail polish and a dying lamb reveal their attitudes toward life and death.

36. Raika Come In From the Cold. At the Camel Festival in remote Rajasthan, the Raika camel herders arrive from their reclusive lives to learn the new power of their camels’ milk. Dancing, dinners, smoking bedis and speaking to crowds dominate the days. Will camels be saved by the community’s plea?

37. United Camel Emirates. A Pakistani camel scientist/nature advocate invites Christina to Abu Dhabi, where she visits a venerable camel souk (market), a camel abattoir, and the large desert farm where 2,000 cossetted camels walk joyfully over raked sand to be milked. Wealthy global interest in camels and their milk reaches a tipping point.

38. The World Wakes Up To Camels. Christina revisits Oasis Camel Dairy to check on the growing camel-human family as the farm expands to twice its size. There’s an update on Walid, who’s been bullying the farmers and now faces competition from other entrepreneurs. Meanwhile the milk is declared safe and effective for children in scientific publications, with tens of thousands of kids using it. She weaves in facts about camel milk’s projected 7-10% rise, use in global warming, importance to women’s small businesses, and the challenges facing nomads (citing UN expert Bernard Faye). The FDA approves imported camel milk from India and Dubai. Camel science for cancer, vaccines, immune system diseases and more is rising (for example, a new factory for nanobodies from camel urine). Camels are now the second-fastest growing livestock in the world. Yet the camels themselves remain the focus of people who love them.

39. Unto Her a Camel is Born. A manger at Marlin’s farm shelters a laboring camel mother. April, a second-generation camel at the farm, is giving Marlin his first grand-camel. The unity of the camel world is signified by this birth.


Camel Milk: A Users’ Guide

Where to Buy Camel Milk: A Resource List

What People are Saying About This

From the Publisher

“A story as wondrous as a fantastic novel, full of amazing moments.”
— Anita Hughes, author of Rome In Love: A Novel

“Adams . . . does it all with such an infectious sense of wonder, a love of facts, and an insistence to get at the truth, that I’d follow her anywhere.”
— Caroline Leavitt, New York Times bestselling author of Pictures of You and Is This Tomorrow

“Testimony not only of a dedicated mother, but also of a determined, intelligent woman whose ability to think outside the box enabled her to go beyond conventional medical boundaries and overcome serious medical challenges affecting her child.”
— Dr. Amnon Gonenne, PhD, scientist, researcher, and biotechnology executive

From the B&N Reads Blog

Customer Reviews