The river of life

It’s 48 degrees and I’m hot, really hot. The harsh Egyptian sun beats down on me as I wipe the mix of dust and sweat from my eyes. I have just narrowly escaped a 9-hour rickety train ride from Cairo and I'm thirsty, really thirsty. This version of first class consisted of sticky vinyl seats that don't recline and windows that ajar only enough to sniff the rushing warm outside air. Slightly disorientated and my backpack on, I make my way through the Aswan markets bursting with noise and excitement. Ahead of me I can see the sparkling water of the mighty Nile. Wandering hands grab me from all directions as I continue towards the water at the end of the dusty road. Palm trees sore high in the sky along the waters edge, smooth boulders rise up in the clear shallow waters. In the distance across the other side of the river, golden sand dunes create the wavy horizon where land meets sky. I fumble around my backpack for my journal, and see that I’m quite close to where I need to meet my felucca. It's an Egyptian wooden sailing boat consisting of a flat wooden deck covered by a canopy of old sewn together sheets and flags from countries of past travelers. I meet Captain Gunja who is the Captain of my Felucca. He has the widest white grin, in such a stark a contrast to his smooth dark Nubian skin. He is from the most southern Nile delta region known as Nubia. He is instantly welcoming and shuffles me on board doing his best to speak his charming yet disjointed English. His rehearsed welcome speech continues to more travelers that join our boat. The big orange ball is starting to set below the distant dunes, as we push off slowly into the smooth water. I watch Gunja jump about the boat effortlessly tying up ropes. The huge white sails open up into the evening breeze as we begin to sail up-river. Sipping the beer he opened for me, thoughts about the journey ahead of me dance in my mind. It feels like somehow this experience has already changed my life.