I love this Nile River life of feluccas, temples, and interconnecting villages and canals.
I love running along the Nile and through the villages. My Egyptian name is Sama. It means “sky.” Children run along with me, yelling, “Sama! Sama!” It’s a lovely sound and puts a big smile on my face. I look to the blue above me. At night, wispy clouds have covered the sky and the big yellow moon has seemed more mysterious than ever as it slides in and out of the shadows. I love the skies of Luxor.
But I can’t just live here. I have to contribute and be a part of the community! So, I brought a boxing bag and set it up on my terrace.
Now I teach boxing to young people. I have a twelve year old girl who is amazing. It’s her parents’ wish for her to be well educated and go to college. Her father is very proud that she is learning boxing. She gets it better than any of my male students–she can remember combinations and she naturally breaths right. I also have an eighteen year old young man who is on the Luxor villages soccer team. He wants to get in the best shape he can because he wants to apply to be a police officer. Main thing, give me strong abs, he says!
My boxing student, Iya, and her little brother.
My boxing student, Osama.
I feel like I’m doing my little bit to bring power to young girls here and show boys that girls are equal. Life still goes on in these villages as it has for hundreds of years. But change is coming, and I contribute to the most positive aspects of that change.
Two nights ago I got married. It happened on this felucca on the Nile with the moon overhead and the lights of Luxor Temple shimmering on the water. It was the most romantic and also the most fun night of my life.
In a moment of reflection, I looked across to Farouk’s Winter Palace, remembering how as a ten year old child my family stayed there, pulling a mattress onto the balcony to escape the heat. I remember asking my dad why only Christians went to heaven while everyone else went to hell. I had met so many people of other faiths and cultures who were truly good people and didn’t deserve such a fate. My dad assured me they did (and let me say I love my dad and respect that he always stood for what he believed). However, it was then I started to question the dangerous myopic view of the zealots–of any religion. So it was especially meaningful to be on that boat thinking how fate had brought me back to this place.
I traveled for three years, from Turkey to Bolivia to Morocco to Costa Rica and beyond, not sure where to lay my head. I have found my home. Many people might think this is a crazy decision but hey, I’m a crazy person. Life is an adventure, and I’m living it to the fullest, one moment at a time.
Today early morning, I run through the village my regular route to the Nile. People cry, “Very good, sport!” with a thumb’s up. A boy on a donkey runs beside me for a bit. Past the awakening shops to a place in the shade where sweet Turkish coffee awaits me, along with a breakfast of eggs and mashed peanuts with butter, made fresh in the village, bread, cilantro and flafel. The boiled eggs come from one man and are taken to the man who sells peanuts from a small cart, where he mixes the eggs with the crushed peanuts. This man has been selling peanuts from the cart since forever. This is life.
The sights, sounds and colors of this intimate city of Luxor, built on the east bank of the Nile. Why go over there, except to the supermarket to buy the things you need, or maybe to see some museums, okay, of course, you should see the museums, the people on the west bank say. These people have been born beneath the golden mountain where rests the kings and queens of ancient Egypt. I am living on the west bank for two months amongst interconnecting villages built on canals, interspersed with wheat fields and banana groves. I awaken to the cacophony of birds, braying donkeys and children’s laughter, call of the muezzin–and loudspeakers of people selling wares who drive by all day, various farm machines, motorcycles–everyone rides a motorcycle…but mostly birds.
I’m sorry to say I can’t recommend where I stayed, at Irie BnB, Al Bairat, West Bank. It’s a beautiful building and great location, however the woman who managed the place was a nightmare and most unprofessional. I paid two months in advance and when her behavior became so erratic and aggressive, I had no alternative but to leave. She promised to refund me for my second month but never did. I have nothing against smoking pot, however this woman smokes it constantly, even had many pot plants growing in full view on the terrace, a public space where tourists are invited to sit. This made me very uncomfortable, considering it’s illegal to grow pot in Egypt. The washing machine is on the terrace and guests are invited to use it–except when she decided I shouldn’t use it anymore. She threw my laundry on the ground and when I asked where I should hang them to dry, she responded that I should find a rope and string them up in my room. When I asked if this was how she treated all her paying guests, she laughed, used some foul language I won’t repeat and told me if I didn’t get out of the apartment immediately, she would throw my clothes out on the street. Needless to say, I left, and to this day she has not reimbursed me for my money. I’ve never had an experience like this anywhere in the world in my travels. It verged on scary and could be termed most bizarre.. She started out nice, although somewhat brusque, but it seemed once she got the money, she just didn’t care anymore how she acted. Her behavior was unethical. to say the least. I didn’t report her because I happened to fall in love in love with her brother-in-law, the man who owns the building that she and her husband manage and we got married. (He husband is very nice and seems to find himself in an awkward position). Perhaps that was her problem, she didn’t want me marrying her brother-in-law. At any rate, it’s impossible to know what goes through someone’s mind when they are so bitter and angry and I can only imagine it has more to do with her own problems within herself than anything else. Case in point, the next person who came to stay lasted about three days before she packed up her bags and left. I don’t think anyone has stayed there since.
So my advice would be stay somewhere else! There are many, many wonderful places to stay on the West Bank. After my initial fiasco, I stayed for ten days on the sandal, Amira Sudan, the most romantic of sail boats. It is where my husband and I got married. I am now moving to Luxor permanently, it has captured my heart–in more ways than one!
In a few weeks I will be taking off for two months in Egypt. It’s time to start up the blogging again in preparation….
I was last in Egypt at age ten. I can imagine much has changed since then. Of course, the monuments of Luxor, where I will be staying, will not have changed. I look forward to walking among the queens and kings and breathing in their spirits, as well as the slaves who suffered in order for those in power to gain immortality. This is the dilemma that drives me, the juxtaposition of yin and yang. Is it evil and good, or is that just how we have tried to explain it? Perhaps it is really something else that we don’t understand.
Luxor is my next stop in gaining inspiration to write Throne of Desire, book 5 in the NIGHT ANGELS CHRONICLES series. Writing six books is a lesson in endurance. It is also a spiritually uplifting experience. I found that while writing Land of Talismans, book 4, the characters truly took over the story. They are leading me on their own mysterious journey. I am learning much as I travel along.
Writing this series has taken me from Los Angeles to Istanbul, Turkey; the Sahara Desert, Morocco; Martha’s Vineyard; Lausanne, Switzerland; Sucre, Bolivia; Lake Arenal, Costa Rica; and now Luxor, Egypt. My characters represent many cultures and ethnicities, the stories are steeped in history. The themes of free will (does such a thing exist?), spirituality vs materialism, the corruption of power; the sedation of the masses, well…let’s just say it’s all in there. What would you, as an ordinary human being, do if you had the opportunity to become a god?
And what, really, does that mean–to be a god? What does it mean to be human? What is life and what is death?
We don’t know the answers to these questions, no matter how much we fool ourselves into thinking we do. To know these answers means to have the knowledge and power of what many call God…or the universe… or whatever words one wishes to use. As finite beings in an infinite universe (a concept impossible to comprehend) we theorize, speculate, believe we know, kill each other over theological technicalities, but the fact is, we are tiny ants climbing up onto blades of grass, thinking we have scaled the highest mountain when we haven’t even made it out of the backyard.
That said, it’s a lot of fun speculating and I am putting it all into NIGHT ANGELS CHRONICLES. We’ve each been allotted a certain amount of energy to put back into the universe. So, this is how I use mine. Telling stories, creating my own little worlds. And along the way, traveling where my spirit takes me to absorb all I can of the wonders of the world I live in.
What a life! We should make our lives worth living–to ourselves, which is why I have such a hard time writing in this blog. It’s all in NIGHT ANGELS CHRONICLES, it’s all in my other writings. I want people to read what I write. I want to share my little worlds and hope that others will get lost in them, too. It’s a way to find connection in the void of infinity.
Life shouldn’t just happen to us. We should give our all to creating our best adventure.
This is my best effort. And I’m loving every minute of it.