If you’ll recall the last entry, I worried about my lack of
knowledge when it came to Egypt
– and everything related to it. Well, I
think for once my worrying was justified.
Along comes my familiar friend Ignorance. Ignorant assumption Number 1: Egypt is set amongst the desert,
therefore it will be hot. The plane
lands in Cairo after a 10 hour flight from Bangkok. I notice the Thai woman beside me getting her
bags from the overhead compartment and putting on a long winter jacket. What is with the Thai people, they are always
bundled in the heat, for God’s sake woman this is Egypt! I grab my bags and walk out
of the plane, only to be blasted with pelting rain and freezing wind. This has got to be some sort of fluke,
there’s no way it’s this cold here.
Turns out, it’s no fluke. Turns
out, it’s best to research a country before you blindly fly there with a
wardrobe of sundresses and bathing suits.
After a series of arguments with taxi drivers, I made my way to a bus
station in Cairo,
where I am informed that the bus I need won’t be leaving for another 8
hours. I purchase my ticket and begin
wrapping myself in every towel and sarong I own and make myself comfortable on
the bench of the outside bus station.
Time passes slowly with strange encounters to break the monotony of
the mantra that is running through my head … “I am not freezing cold. I am not drenched from the rain. I am not disturbed by the fact that I haven’t
seen one woman the entire time I’ve been here.
This is not a repeat of my Malaysian experience ...” I finally did meet
one woman – about 65 years old – who came up to me and smiled, rambled in
Arabic, kissed me on the cheek, and walked away. Maybe I made her happy by adopting the local
dress of Egyptian women, little did she know it was everything I owned. The day was not complete without a full-blown
argument with a man who tried to charge me an exorbitant amount of money to use
the toilet that so nicely backfired on me and shot streams of water out of the
bowl onto my already freezing and drenched clothes. Oh Egypt how do I love thee, let me
count the ways. The bus ride to Sinai
was 10 hours through the desert, with multiple check points along the way. A soldier boards the bus and checks every
single person’s passport – this happened 10 times in this journey. Finally I arrived in Dahab in the middle of
the night. My lack of knowledge on the
Egyptian culture and climate could easily be remedied after spending some time
hanging out with Liz and experiencing the Arab lifestyle. Only problem was, I had no idea where she
was. She sent an email saying, “come to
Dahab!!”. So, being the good person that
I am, I do what I’m told. I book my
flight and send her an email. Then I
don’t here back from her and I begin to wonder if she got my email, if she’s
still in Egypt, if she moved
somewhere else in Egypt,
if it was a joke when she told me to come out.
I keep checking my email before I leave Thailand but to no avail. So here I am in Dahab, Egypt
– with really no idea why I’m here! Before
leaving Thailand
I looked up hotels in Dahab as a back up in case I didn’t find Liz. I could only remember the name of one place, so
I drag my tired, wet, and harassed self to this hotel and figure I’ll spend the
next day trying to find Liz. I check
into the last room available and as the man is walking me to my room I tell him
I’m looking for my friend, she works at a dive shop somewhere in Dahab and
she’s American. “Oh! Elizabess! (lacking
the ability to pronounce the “th”) of course! She stays here, right beside your
room!” If there was ever any question of
the connection that liz and I have, this settled it. Of all the places to stay …
So here we’ve been for the past month, living in a pink
apartment above a chicken restaurant, with a view of the Red Sea and Saudi
Arabia from the bedroom, and the Sinai mountains from the living room. This culture has been the most challenging so
far, very similar to Malaysia
in ways, but living here gives it a different experience. I started working with liz at the dive shop,
for a man who I am almost positive is a long lost brother to the Alles
boys. Overall, my time here has been
reflective. The cold weather and the
Arab culture have kept me indoors for the much needed period of winter
thinking. Daily excursions involved some
strange experiences. A trip to the
grocery store involves maneuvering around people kneeling and praying in the
canned food aisle, walking down the street always presents offers of marriage –
“please can I marry you, how many camels for you?”, and looking in a shop
usually results in sitting amongst the clothing drinking hibiscus tea with the
owner. I have learned to be quite
resourceful with my limited amount of clothing.
I came here, to an Arab country in the winter, with 1 pair of pants and
1 sweater. Because of this I really
began to question my intelligence. If I
didn’t have intelligence I damn well better find some creativity. So this is when skirts became scarves,
dresses became skirts and tops, scarves became skirts, and hand-washing became
a daily chore.
The desire to experience places like the locals do always
results in me living in a place that most people only stop in for a few
days. I arrive my first night, wake up
in the morning and Liz and I think it’d be a great idea to get an apartment
here. Why we have to do everything to
the extreme I’m not sure, but it seems to be our joined way. Working, shopping, and living with the locals
has been an incredible experience and has helped me to understand a culture that
I knew so little about.
I have always had an
aversion to the desert. There is
something about it’s vast openness that leaves me with an undeniable
conflicting feeling of claustrophobia.
The sand storms and what appears to be any lack of life, leaves me
feeling restless. With the desert behind
me and the Red Sea at my doorstep, I have been
able to appreciate the vastness of both and find a balance amongst the
extremes. This area is still part of a
Bedouin village and their presence in the streets always reminds me of the
ancient history of this country. So much
has happened here in the past, and you can see evidence of it in the movements
of every local.
Over a month has gone by and I can still count the number of
local women I’ve seen on one hand.
Living within such a male-dominated society has given me strength that I
never found in a culture of equality.
Although I may be getting strength mixed up with what has probably just
turned into a cold and bitchy exterior.
I won’t deny the fact that hissing at men is something I have
occasionally resorted to doing. But in all honesty, the strength and knowledge
that can be found when you are forced to prove your worth, is truly invaluable
for being an assertive and confidant person.
The rent on the apartment is up, and spring is bringing new
winds of change. Time to move on. And here I sit again, with a pile of choices
and no real answers. Wherever I decide
to go next, you can be sure I will be consulting the weather report before
departure.
An Egyptian breakfast on the water awaits, accompanied by 8
stray cats, 1 stray dog with a limp, 6 small girls relentlessly harassing me to
buy bracelets, and every fly that is currently living at this moment.
