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The year that was

December 31, 2010

The Husband and I had just finished hiking Mount Sinai.

Our trek was made in the dark, starting around 1 a.m., with a bedouin as our guide up the mountain. We reached the peak in time to hunker down, wrap ourselves in heavy blankets and watch the sunrise. Then, hungry and exhausted, we walked back down again.

I wasn’t focused on much more than putting one tired foot in front of the other. Suddenly I noticed my husband was lagging behind.

When I looked back, he was crouched next to a little girl. Her eyes were red and her expression was pinched and panicked.

“What’s wrong?” my husband asked her.

She was sniffling too much to speak.

“Did you fall?” he said. As much as we both wanted to run down that mountain and get back to our hostel, my husband was being patient and sweet.

The girl took a few deep breaths, then rattled out a string of words, none of which I understood.

“Parlez-vous francais?” my husband asked. “Español?”

She tried communicating again, and a few words clicked in my head.

“She’s Russian,” I said. “And I think she lost her parents.”

“It will be OK. Come with us,” my husband said slowly. He explained with kind eyes and a gentle smile what his words couldn’t.

She followed us down the trail. I gave her an orange. She clutched it to her chest and offered me half a smile.

As we passed people on the trail, my husband desperately looked for someone who spoke Russian. Finally, a multilingual tour guide was able to help. With a couple of phone calls, her parents were located and the girl was reunited with them.

That incident crystalizes what has made 2010 such an extraordinary year for me.

I am so grateful for every moment of my entire life that has led me to this place.

I am grateful for the adventure of climbing mountains in the dark.

I am grateful for the stillness of watching the sun pop out over layers of blue peaks.

I am grateful I married the right man.

I am grateful for my husband’s wide open heart.

I am grateful for the opportunity to see more of this fantastic world.

I am grateful for meaningful interaction with other people — sharing a moment, using smiles to cross language barriers, making a connection.

Above all, I am grateful for the fresh slate of 2011 and all the richness and beauty it will bring.

Happy New Year, everyone. Here’s to 365 days of awesomeness for all of us.

Write like an Egyptian

December 30, 2010

Whenever I walk into a temple or pyramid here, I have a difficult time believing the hieroglyphs are real.

They’re just so old. And so deep. And so perfect. And so there.

It feels more like something from Epcot Center or the set of “The Mummy.”

And oh, hey! Bart Simpson!

Maybe it’s just overwhelming to see such an exquisite ancient system of writing and communication.

My handwriting never looked this good.

Also this? Hieroglyph FAIL.

Float on

December 29, 2010

I’m pretty sure that when something or someone was designing this great big world, the shimmering, slithering Nile River was a beautiful afterthought — the cherry on top of the sundae, the ribbon on top of a perfectly wrapped present.

It is home to great abundance.

And quiet simplicity.

The Nile is also one of the best ways to get from point A to point B in Egypt, far from the overwhelming chaos of the shore.

On the river there is no haggling, no harrassment, no salesmen, no noise. It’s a place to simply be, while everything else floats away.

The Husband and I took a felucca ride when we stayed in Luxor. However, we picked a night with no wind — which was great for the weather and our comfort, but not so great for sailing.

The feluccas hugged the shore, with the crew hopping into thick, knee-high mud or leaping onto nearby buildings, using ropes and sheer strength to tow the boats through the current.

Occasionally a motorboat would chug by.

Meanwhile, my boat used human motors.

Then we drifted, through the sunset and into the night.

Up in the air

December 28, 2010

Egypt makes my neck hurt. Practically everything worth looking at is located way up high.

You know those roller things that mechanics use to slide underneath cars? Egypt should think about using some of those for temple tours.

Fa-la-la-la-la-lafel

December 26, 2010

When my husband and I were tryng to figure out where in the world to meet for the holidays, I threw out some practical suggestions.

“London is a good halfway point and a big airline hub.”

“Nah.”

“Paris? It’s easy to get there and it would be romantic. Or Rome? Frankfurt? Istanbul?”

“Nope. Nope. Nope. Nope.”

“Well, Cairo is a major city, but too far out of the way …”

“YES.”

And that’s how we ended up in a predominantly Muslim country for Christmas — because my husband only wants to travel to places that have been in Indiana Jones movies.

Our Christmas day began with a short hop from Luxor to Sharm el Sheikh.

This is the Red Sea. You might remember it from such works as The Bible or Charlton Heston movies.

At the airport, everybody was in the Christmas spirit, even Arab African International Bank …

… and baggage claim.

One cab ride and a few police checkpoints later, The Husband and I arrived at our reefside hostel — so beautiful it felt like a Christmas miracle!

I’ve never been one of those people who gets really into Christmas. My dad usually sends one of those small and droopy Charlie Brown trees, and if it wasn’t for him, I wouldn’t have any decorations at all.

But this year, removed from all the Christmas hype, I found myself aching for lights, garland and tinsel, and I gleefully took photos of anything that resembled the holidays back home.

For breakfast on the beach, I ate falafel, just so that I could make that fa-la-la-lafel joke in the post title. It was delicious, too.

Later that afternoon, our hostel hosted a holiday dinner. The chefs attempted their very first turkey. Even though that’s not really my thing, it was sweet to see how proud and excited they were to present a Christmas meal to weary and homesick travelers.