Egypt

Egypt in all her glory was just a name, “Cleopatra” and my expectations of what would befall me when I traveled there years ago was unrealistic Hollywood glitz and romantic ideas. I think there is a part of every woman who sees a little bit of Cleopatra within her. When we actually go to Egypt, our sense of the feminine archetypes goes off the deep end. I really thought I would meet my Julius Caesar or Marc Antony, not because either one would be there but because Egypt captivates the mind sending it into delusional expectations.

Egypt was what I didn’t expect, the teacher and the ancient mistress of mysteries and secrets. She was hidden dreams of ceremonies and a cultural shock of lifestyles. The smells from everyday life, the vision of people and temples combined was hypnotic and very foreign to my senses. It was like being plunged into a socket and getting a surge of unexpected electricity that shocked my body continually. I was in a constant state of wonderment and confusion. My role as a woman was so different and yet there I was the same me. Cleopatra was nowhere in sight and it was obvious that Egypt had changed into a modern society.

It’s really hard to explain the first emotion upon seeing temples and statues that are thousands of years old. It puts into perspective on a grand scale that we are so much more then meets the eye. And yet looking at pillars and statues 30 feet high or more, made me feel so small and insignificant not just from size but as a human part of  humanity. The temples seemed to be where my soul felt the most comfortable and yet naked at the same time. I felt the Universe weighing down on my subconscious asking me a million questions or maybe I was the one asking the million questions. It was obvious that Egypt was at the bottom of every question I had ever had. I just didn’t know it. It was more then a spiritual experience, it was answers into understanding myself and why I ventured to Egypt in the first place.

The Egyptians view of immortality and the preparation for the afterlife was so different from my Christian upbringing. It seemed to be an eccentric and melodramatic view of death with a great deal of detail to the body, soul and comforts of worldly goods. I wondered if it was possible to separate life from death and I also wondered if they knew something we have forgotten.

Egypt is a different representation from what it used to be. Religion seems to change people. Although there were symbols all around of Egypt’s past, it was evident that they had become common place to the average person on the street. Even after living in Garden City a few months I became numb to the symbolism and mystery that first took hold of me when I stepped off the plane. It’s almost like the two counterparts of Egypt, the modern and the old didn’t recognize each other and I followed suit.

The interesting conclusion I came to was that the Egyptians have a way of living life and making the best of any situation. But there were constant reminders of the severity of the haves and the have nots such as homeless kids living near the city garbage dump that burned toxic pollutants. I moved to Maadi so I could be out of the wind zone that would carry the smell into Garden City. The diesel trucks zooming passed horse drawn wagons was an oxymoron to say the least. But I loved it, all of it. It was these two opposing representations of life that made Egypt what it is, the people found a way to make the old and new co-exist in the end.

Coming back home was hard because I was so used to the unrestrained daily living. Just getting into a taxi was an adventure or seeing life along the Nile became a daily occurrence that at times I took for granted.  Being able to go to the Egyptian Museum, the market place or going to the Pyramids was my life for 6 months. It was an Indiana Jones lifestyle with a twist of The Mummy. Within 6 months I traveled from Cairo to Alexandria, Aswan, The Island of Philae, Idfu, Esna, Luxor and Sharm el-Sheikh. There’s nothing like hiring a taxi driver to go on a long trip and finding out he has chicken wire keeping parts of the engine together. We learned that headlights don’t really matter at night even if it’s pitch black from town to town and going around curves means on two wheels only. There is no such thing as two lanes especially if 5 or 6 cars can scrape by. Red lights are for pansies and people crossing the roads are chased and almost hit by cars. I was actually hit during Ramadan and knew my Angels were watching out for me. My left arm saved my life because a van hit my arm and knocked me back away from the tires. I only had a big bruise on my arm that served as a reminder of how cranky people can get when they are hungry. I found that yelling was the norm and that car horns were obviously made to honk multiple times a day. Yet walking in the streets of Cairo or finding out where all the Mosques were, was apart of  my daily destinations just like going to the movies or driving across town to see my family.  The difference is I loved the mystery of finding out what each day would bring. I would go have costumes made and fitted, watch belly dance shows, take dance classes or sightsee. It was a different scenario day after day and how the day would end was anyone’s guess. Oh and yes, I would go back to Egypt in a heartbeat. The only thing I would change if I went back, is I would bring a suitcase full of toilet paper especially for those long trips!

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