Return to Egypt

Egypt 1999 was not a trip I was looking forward to taking. My enthusiasm from the last trip began to fade around 4 months before this trip. Real life in the USA was occupying too much space in my brain to make the thought of leaving a pleasant prospect. I was too attached to my life here. Maybe when my feet hit the dusty ground it would all change? No, cruising in an air-conditioned bus to a pristine, tourist filled hotel was not in my vision of Egypt. Where was the magic?

The crust began to lift from my eyes and heart with the enthusiasm of the group. Almost instantly we were a group. Not just a bunch of people in the same place at the same time, but a group. Neither age, occupation, nor life style, created any divisions. We moved as a unit, and other people remarked on it as well. We laughed together, supported each other, encouraged each other and brought out the humanity and spirituality in one another. Within this warm and safe cocoon, how could my heart not open?

Another chink in the armor came during my excursion to the coffee house with a friend I met on my first trip to Egypt. Mohamed wanted me to ride in his brother’s car with a bunch of other guys to a place I didn’t know. I wasn’t having any of that! I told him I’d walk. So we began walking down Pyramid Rd, me dressed for the evening. After a few minutes, his brother told the guys to get out and me to get in the car. He explained that it just wasn’t proper for me to be walking down the street dressed like that!

I got in the car, and we went to a cafe where the expelled guys suddenly appeared. The loud and lively music greeted us way before we reached the door. We turned the corner and entered a sparsely furnished room with tables and chairs and couches lining the walls. Though I should have been accustomed to it, the lack of women took me by surprise! There were only two other women there besides myself, one veiled. I didn’t waste much time on that. The energetic dancing and whoops of delight from the men was far more interesting. I stared shamelessly while the shishas smoked and coffee permeated the air. Here was the Egypt I knew and loved!

I could only stay a little while because we were going to see Lucy! We said our good-byes, then the group and I were off to La Parisiana.

We arrived in time to see the last of a really bad band. The drum kit just didn’t flow with the Middle Eastern music at all. I was relieved to see them go. A pretty dancer came on next, but I was so distracted by the biker shorts under her skirt that I didn’t even notice her face for a while. She was lively and engaging and got us up to dance with her. We all took turns entertainer her and ourselves.

A singer followed. It was getting late. We were all tired. We thought Lucy wasn’t coming, so we loaded ourselves onto the bus prepared to call it a night. Just in time, Lucy’s white Mercedes pulled up behind us. Would we like to speak to her? Would we?

Our gang overwhelmed Lucy in the lobby. She smiled and greeted us warmly. We took turns with introductions and shaking hands. I thought my hand would crush her tiny one. I felt like a giant standing before her, but once she took the stage, she became the giant.

She floated out like a butterfly in yellow. All eyes on Lucy! Music personified, she never lost her sweetness, passion, control, or touch. I don’t have any idea what the words were to any of the songs, but I felt the emotion flowing from her body, from her hips. Trembling with longing, tense with angst, releasing with hopelessness. Just beautiful.

She danced only for us it seemed. Whatever she did, we loved it. She brought us on stage to follow her and we ached to please. “Clap your hands,” she yelled. And we did. We were all right with her as she danced, sang, and ran the lights, musicians, and audience. Such a pro!

As lovely in beledi as in bedlah, Lucy’s second appearance was in shining assiut. With endless energy she danced on and on. “Did we like that shimmy?”, she seemed to say with her eyes. “Well, you’re going to love this one even more”, she smiled, and kept on giving. And when it was all over, she came up to my video camera, looked straight into the lens and said, “I love everybody!” and kissed the camera! If that wasn’t enough, she pulled off her wig, whirled it in the air and kicked off the stage!

We went wild! We stood clapping and zaghareeting until we ached. Oh, Lucy thank-you for such a show and for such inspiration. Ever classy, ever beautiful Lucy.

Early the next morning (the same day- in fact only 3 hours later) the group met for an excursion inside the Great Pyramid. I didn’t make it to that trip, but instead went to Khan el Khalili for our first shopping adventure. The fun began before we’d even reached the shop. The walk-over was closed, so we had to hop a waist-high fence to get to the other side of the street. The curious stares were almost more entertaining than the previous night’s show. Though other women were hopping the fence, none seemed to elicit the stares we did. We must have made quite an sight!

It was my turn to stare once we reached the costumers. I knew the sight of all the goodies would create squeals of delight. And it did. Not knowing where to start first, we tackled one pile of scarves, then a row of beaded belts and bras, then moved on to the beledi dresses. Trying on this and that, we quickly found many favorite items, but some things weren’t perfect, so we asked to have them made to fit our dreams. And poof, just like that, our wishes were granted.

Meanwhile back at the ranch... well, almost! That evening we did go to the ranch- Egyptian style. This “ranch” was desert side and had camels as well as horses. We chose our mounts for the sunset ride past the pyramids from the Abu-Basha stables. Shi-coco Abu Basha served as our guide. Dressed in a dusty gallabya, he looked like he could have been from any long ago time period in history.

The slower camel caravan plodded behind those of us with horses. Some horses wanted to run, so we let them. Susana’s horse wanted to fly like the devil and took off! I knew Susana was a horsewoman, but I had no idea she had such skill. This horse charged full speed ahead directly up a sand dune with Susana’s hair and laughter flowing behind her. This crazy horse didn’t have enough with doing this once, but did it continuously throughout the ride. Watching must have been as much fun as being on the devil’s back.

Back at the stables, Shi-coco treated us to a look at his prize dancing stallion. The horse danced to the clapping of our hands and seemed to enjoy the encouragement as much as Lucy did the night before! As a special surprise, Shi-coco hoisted Mel, who particularly loved the horses, upon the famous horse’s back and allowed us to take pictures.

But the night was just beginning. We walked to Gouda’s house for dinner and a rooftop viewing of the sound and light show. Susana’s friend prepared quite an Egyptian feast for us. Pure Egyptian hospitality at its finest. We ate native cuisine like kings.

We spent the next day at Sakkara, then back to the bazaar. After shopping, we went to an Egyptian restaurant where real Egyptians eat. It wasn’t so much a novelty to me this time and felt more like a comfy place. Bread, pickled carrots, tahini, baba ghanoush, french fries, chicken, and water for four cost around $11!

This was also the day we found out about the horrible Egypt Air crash. Since people had been calling for me and had not been able to reach me because I was not registered as a guest, I went looking for a cyber cafe to make sure the wrong messages weren’t being sent. My e-mail box was overloaded with concerned messages. After sending a mass message to family and close friends, I felt comfortable returning to my vacation.

We flew to Luxor the next day to begin our 6 night cruise on the Nile. Nothing could have prepared me for this experience. Cleopatra had the right idea! Driving, train rides, or even camel rides, just aren’t the way to go. If you are going to see Upper Egypt, you must cruise. The longer the better. There is no greater luxury than a 5 star Oberoi cruise ship.

Our ship, the Shehrazad, was everything we could have imagined. They gave us free wine with dinner and complimentary laundry service. By that time, we all needed it! I was in heaven beaming over their crispy laundry. But the laundry wasn’t the only thing worth applauding. The food, the view, the entertainment, the service, the sights, the company, the crew. Everything just added up to make it all a magical floating adventure.

One of the most fun things was unplanned adventure. Some fellucas came alongside the ship selling gallabyas. They threw them aboard wrapped in plastic bags and bargained over the side of the boat in all languages. Bags sailed through the air hitting us in the head. Some fell back down into the water. I don’t think anyone in our group ended up with any that night (as if they hadn’t done enough shopping already), but many of the tourists were happy with their overpriced garments. The laughter was priceless.

The day I conducted a dance class in the lounge, the ship got the cleaning of its life! Suddenly boys appeared from everywhere vacuuming outside the door, setting up for tea, carrying water, and just hanging around. If I saw a group of American women aged 23-70 learning the Laughing Dance choreography, I’d want to take a peak too! We were laughing at the humor of the choreography, but the sight of all those guys fumbling around was just as funny.

The gallabya party was the next night. We all dressed up in our Egyptian finery, danced, played “grab the spoon”, “potato butt”, and “who’s knees?” while laughing until our sides ached. I am sorry that this night didn’t happen our first night on the ship. I think it would have brought the various tour groups together. Some of them were pretty stuffy initially, but how standoffish can you remain after having a potato swinging from your behind?

We’d been dancing the entire time we were aboard, but the captain gave us special permission for a real performance. I believe most of passengers and crew attended this performance, as they were fascinated with us. Donna went first. Dressed in a long black gown and white beaded belt, she slinked like I’ve never seen anyone slink before. Head tosses, strutting and long drawn out curvy hips which accentuated her long body and oozed femininity brought the audience to its knees! Present in every moment, she stuffed sex, comedy, technique, and pure entertainment into ten minutes.

Hard act to follow, but Mel proceeded confidently in her newly bought bright orange beledi dress. Obviously in love with the music, she sang, pranced and teased the audience. Bringing a totally different mood to the room, she was sweetness and light.

Before the audience reclaimed the oft-used dance floor, I performed in bedlah. I began with an Egyptian piece, in honor of our host country, then moved on to a strange sounding drum solo. I finished with a popular folkloric song and brought the audience up to dance with me. Soon the floor was full and we were all dancing together again.

The nights are all blurring together now, but we did see an Egyptian belly dancer on the ship. She came with a rebaba band. All I could see of her at first were her biker shorts, which looked like granny underwear. She was entertaining and had some nice moves. She concentrated on our side of the room, probably because we were the only ones clapping and making noise. Most of our group got up and danced with her. Why not monopoloze the dancer? Those conservative people across the room certainly weren’t appreciating all this as we were!

We hired a Nubian group to come and entertain for us on the boat also. They were incredible! I have seen Nubian before, but not like this! I don’t know how they could continue breathing after all that exertion. They captivated me with their fancy footwork and all that drumming. I’d rather see them than a stale old belly dancer any day! (Not to say that the dancer was bad, just dull in comparison).

Needless to say, our nights aboard the boat were entertaining, but our days were busy as well. Each day we visited a site or two. The most impressive for me was the Temple of Hatshepsut. The trip was designed knowing that the ancient places and energies often bring up stored memories from past lives. The two psychologists were there to assist in integrating these experiences. I felt my own story lay within the area of Hatshepsut’s tomb. For years I’ve had an approach/ withdraw feeling about the place, and it was the same while standing right in front of it. Suddenly, my breath was sucked from my lungs and I was unable to breath. My body filled with panic and excitement as if something special was on the edge of happening, then I’d deflate and fill with sadness and fear. It was the same as we were leaving. I didn’t want to leave. I wanted to be there alone (instead of with literally half a million other people). I had an irresistible urge to clutch a pylon and never leave. There were no revelations on this trip, but maybe next time.

There seemed to be special moments like that for others. We didn’t really talk too much about it, but the opportunity for transformation was there. We visited many magical places, touched the gods and initiates, and experienced their rituals. The carved stones spoke of old and fascinating tales, but the invisible energies had stories of their own.

After so many wonderful moments, it was difficult to leave the boat. We’d made friends here. Mario, our maitre d’, Ahmed, with the wrinkling nose, Isam, the young waiter, and Mr. Hany- how could they live without us, or we them? Walking up the stairs to the bus, Mario called from the top deck. Laughing once again, we waved back and said our good-byes. But that wasn’t the last of it. Mr. Hany and the “navy” (the sailors) seemed pretty emotional. I think if one person had started crying, we’d all have been a weeping mess!

The anticipation of our new home for the night had us quickly forgetting all of that! The Old Cataract Hotel was simply gorgeous! We were all looking forward to experiencing this historically rich place. Too bad our expectations were crushed at every turn, but one. The service was horrendous. The place, though beautiful, had an air of neglect. The rooms were so different from one another. Our room was huge with two double beds and lots of furniture and space, but no view. Another room was tiny with one bed (for two people) and no view. Other rooms were mid-sized with two beds and a fabulous view of the Nile. This is where we spent most of our time, crammed on the balcony of these two rooms. The view of the Nile by night, or even by day, held us captive.

We did manage to tear ourselves away long enough to get hennaed. At the first shop we saw, the boy offered us henna at 60 pounds per hand for fancy designs. We quickly walked away. After a few looks back, we were down to 10 pounds and accepted. In ten minutes, he promised it would all be over. Four hours later, they were wiping the last of the oil from our hands and admiring our Nubian designs. Boy was everyone surprised to see our black henna fingernails!

Sunset in Aswan was seen by felluca. We sailed a lazy course on the Nile while our Nubian sailors drummed and sang. Of course, we got up, danced and sang with them. We couldn’t let them have all the fun! Nina and Trish lead a little chant, and our guide, Ahmed, also sang a little for us. As the stars twinkled in the African sky, serenity kissed our group.

We knew we were back in Cairo when we could no longer breathe. Honking horns, air thick with excitement, and the crush of humanity, welcomed us back to Cairo. Though I am sure it was not the highlight of the trip for some, I shimmered with delight and anticipation. Tomorrow I interviewed with a 5 star hotel!

I did not come to Egypt prepared to network. I fancied that idea after the first trip, but after investigating, I found out that a common dancer makes about $10 US per show. Despite the low cost of living in Egypt, I had real American bills. That kind of salary just wouldn’t do. I filed that dream away content to dance on the Nile, maybe pick up a wedding or two, and just have some fun.

And that is what I did. I danced when we were scheduled to dance, danced in the disco, and just whenever the urge hit me. It was never rehearsed, never a big production. I was just having fun. The more we danced, the more we were asked to dance. People loved the American dancers. Then one person loved me enough to arrange an audition. And that is where I found myself my last day in Cairo.

Susana was the liaison. I could tell from her side of the conversation that the man was not excited about seeing a 31 year old American dancer. He was only doing this as a courtesy to his friend. He was extremely busy and really didn’t have much time.

Despite his lack of enthusiasm, I felt it was not something I could pass by, so I went. Susana entered the office first while Erica and I stood outside. After a few seconds, she motioned us inside. The man looked up, pointed to me, and said, “She’s the one.” She? That’s me! Dressed in jeans (I had a limited clean wardrobe), hair pulled back, and only a little make-up. That she? I am the one!!!

While still talking, Susana handed him some of my pictures. He glanced at them and said, “Wow”, then began talking about terms of my contract. He lead us to the nighclub and asked me if I liked it. In a small voice I replied, “It’s nice”. He said, “We can change it to anything you want.” Too overwhelmed to speak or think, I really don’t remember what happened next except that we were ushered throughout the hotel to this office and that meeting all kinds of people.

The rest of the trip went by in a blur. We made a mad scramble back to Khan el Khalili for last minute shopping, rushed to our farewell dinner, then some of us went to the Abu Basha wedding in Giza, while the rest of us rested or did last minute packing.

Ten thirty came to quickly. We were all assembled in the hotel lobby watching our luggage being loaded. The ride to the airport seemed somber. Maybe we were just tired and burned out, or maybe everyone was feeling sorrow like me? Everything seemed to move in fast motion from then on. Suddenly we were flying, then in New York, then home.

Now, a week later, I still feel a bit disoriented- half here, half not. I immediately noticed and loved the greasy bacon REAL bacon!), egg, and cheese croissant I ate at JFK, how my clean my car is, how the air doesn’t choke me with diesel fumes, and how traffic moves in an orderly and predictable manner. I welcome that familiarity and luxury! But how I miss Egypt!

Egypt presented its headaches: major changes in itinerary, cries for baksheesh, noise, congestion, unexpected curves, and delays for simple things as well as big things like flights. But for me, that is part of its charm and part of why I feel so alive there. I love it. So much is possible there. Dream it and it is yours.

Incredible layers of energy exist there. Ancient and modern spirituality overlap and meld together making soul work accessible and instantaneous. Incredible stress and intense release make breathing ecstatic. Pretenses are hard to find in Egypt making it easier for us to discover ourselves. You can experience Egypt as a tourist seeing the surface of ancient greatness. You can discover yourself. You can integrate these energies and become whole. So much is possible in Egypt.

When I left Egypt the first time, I ached for it. Since that time, it has become such a part of me that I am never without it. I long to return to Egypt and smell the burning dung in the Cairo sky, but until my feet can once again touch the sand, Egypt is right here in my heart. May the magic never cease. May that wonder lead you to Egypt and claim your soul as it has mine.