The bush at Saint Catherine's monastery

Inside the monastery at the base of Mount Sinai is the burning bush that God spoke to Moses from. It has been carbon dated back to thousands of years old! When I touched it, a thorn pricked me to bleed. When I took a photo of it, this is what came out. Whoa!

Jebel Musa

It's been 3 days now since I've returned from climbing Mount Sinai. I haven't been able to find the words to describe the trip,or at least the effect it's had on me. I can tell you that we left our hotel in Dahab at 11PM in a minibus with other tourists and drove for 2 hours to St. Catherine's Monastery at the foot of Jebel Musa (Moses Mountain). We then joined the many other pilgrims and climbed 1000 meters over 7 KM for about 3 hours. The moon was full and so we hiked without lamps. The granite mountains were all white against night sky. It really was beautiful. The last part of the climb consisted of 750 steps and I have to say it was tough. There was a group of Nigerian pilgrims going up and we would play leapfrog as we each took our turns resting on the boulders along the trail. Sometimes, they would sing hymns as they walked. But mostly, we walked up in silence. Bailey and I tried to keep away from the groups in order to really take in the power of the hills. At the top, which is just an outcrop of rock with 2 small churches, we searched for a place to lay down in our sleeping bags. Found a spot and zipped ourselves up to get away from the cold. From inside the bag, we could hear the Nigerians singing. We could hear the Jewish Rabbi chanting. We could hear the Muslims praying. And we could hear the Bedouin man selling "Black rock" over and over. It was a symphony. But a strangely eery sypmphony, sung with so much soul. After a while, I peeked out and saw that the light was coming, so we jumped up and found a panoramic spot to watch the sun come up. The full moon was setting just as the sun came up. It was last friday, the vernal equinox, and good Friday, and the full moon... all at once. We stayed at the top as long as possible until our guide, Sobe, came and found us. Took the 3000 step path down. Knees were in pain, but I felt strange inside mostly.
I have since been searching the internet for other people's accounts of their trip and I found one description which describes the experience much better than I can. Bruce Feiler says, "I realized that my trip had begun to affect me some place deep in my body. It wasn't my head, or my heart. It wasn't even my feet, though there occasionally. It was someplace so new to me that I couldn't locate it at first, or give it a name. It was a feeling of gravity. A feeling that I wanted to take off all my clothes and lie face down on the soil. I recalled my grandmother's funeral and the gulping ache I felt when they tossed a handful of soil on her coffin: "From ashes to ashes, from dust to dust." Not until that car ride, staring at that soil, did I fully understand what that phrase meant. Adam had been made from dust; his name is derived from the word adama, earth. "For dust you are," God says to Adam, "and to dust you shall return." Here was the source of that soil, I realized, and at that moment I had to resist the temptation to leap out and touch it."
I am still feeling this energy work on me. It's powerful. Full of peace, so much that I find myself having to take deep breaths. I'm just letting it be inside me and hope that it will help me become a better person, less judgemental, more accepting. For now though, I can feel gravity more. I feel more rooted to the earth, more like a part of it all than the speck of floating dust I was before.

Visit Dahab

Let the morning light slowly pull you out of your dreams as you listen to the fan slowly cool your room. There's no rush to leave, not ever, at $5 a night for the two of you. But soon, you start smelling fresh toasted pita drifting from the seaside restaurants. You brush your hair and wash up, put on freshly laundered clothes sent out the day before for only 20 cents a piece and slide into your flip flops. There are a good dozen places to eat at, each one offering breakfast for $2. You might choose the one with the bright cushions and a seat at the edge of the sea. There's some exotic dreamy morning music playing and you lose yourself in nonthought as you gaze off over the Red Sea to the mountains of Saudi Arabia. There are no windows and so the breeze helps blow away any sleepiness. The Bedouin tea comes to you fresh and you have to spoon out some stray herbs before adding sugar. I like to get the Egyptian Breakfast of falafel, fooul (beans), tahini, friend egg, tomatoes and fresh pita. But you can get just about anything here, including pancakes with ice cream or a typical diner plate. You place your order with the smiling waiter and turn back to the water. There may be a diver out there already, enjoying the watery kaleidoscopic underworld. There are cats sunning themselves on the rocks, secretly hoping you'll share your plate, but not begging for it. They look content and very Egyptian with large pointy ears and faces and squinty happy eyes. Your thoughts turn to an awareness of this most perfect place. "I'll be back again and again" you say, and really mean it.

The daytime is a perfect balance between relaxation and exitement. After returning to the Bishi Bishi hotel for a quick jump into your swimsuit, you grab your snorkel and head down the pedestrian walkway lined with shops. Here in Dahab, you're not bothered as much as other places in Egypt. Perhaps the shopkeepers invite you in, but after a polite "La. Shukran" they will wish you a pleasant day and you can calmly continue towards one of the many coral reefs. You notice the divers are in one area today and decide to follow them. The water is still a bit chilly in March, but once you're in and moving, all your focus is on the hundreds of fish floating below you, picking at the rainbow colored reef. There's a massive school of irridescent blue fish following a warm current just beside you and some barracudas floating peacefully in the distance. Feeling brave, you dive down and follow a school of striped angelfish as they run from you. As the divers pass beneath you, their bubbles float up and surround you in a million tickles. There's no telling how long you stay out there. Time doesn't exist.

The reef calls to you several times over the afternoon and when the sun starts to set, you realize you haven't even eaten lunch. The restaurants are always open and serving delicious dinners. You might want to choose your own fish out of an ice laden stand or maybe, like me, you want to enjoy a large bowl of Koshary (noodles, rice, chick peas, lentils, onions in a spicy sauce) for only $1. If you take it to go, you can enjoy it under the palm trees of your hotel courtyard, then maybe fetch an icecream cone before sprawling out on the mats and pillows with the rest of the guests and read a good book. There's the smell of Sheesha (tobacco with apple or strawberry) floating in the air and your eyes start to close. There's no question about getting cozy in your bed, listening to the fan again as it cools the night air, and falling fast asleep. Dahab, as it's meaning is translated, is pure gold.

The Travelers

There's a country I've been in that I haven't told you about yet. It's this place where you can come and go as you please and everyone is welcome. It's the country of explorers. Every time I live out of my backpack, I'm there. Instead of comparing kitchen appliances, we're talking about the latest little camp stove. Instead of showing each other our new clothes, we're explaining the map of stains on our pants. We share rooms and taxis and meals. In a bus full of locals, we share a smile of comraderie. And mostly, we share our stories. There's very little chance of a civil war here, because we don't want to own anything or anyone. We want experience. Our book: Lonely Planet and Rough Guide. Our bank: the money belt. Our crown: the headlamp. Luxuries: seated toilet, toilet paper, a hot shower, a bed off the floor, a clean towel. There's no leader her either, just a bus schedule. We've quit our jobs and we're open to the future. But the best part of this place is that it lives in the present, with open eyes and ears and an ever changing landscape.

Dahab's Jewels

After our felucca journey, we got in a minibus and visited 2 temples - Kom Ombu and Edfu. Bailey and I enjoyed them from outside the gates cause our money is running out. It was OK though, you could see them really well and we're a bit templed out at this point anyway. We rode on to Luxor, said goodbye to our friends, ran a few errands and walked down dusty streets with our full backpacks to the train station. Our final destination - Dahab, on the Red Sea. We ended up riding a bus for 18 hours to get there, my legs and neck in pain from the cramped seats, but I managed to sleep a bit. We met Tom from England on the bus. He's 25 and looks like one of the Monty Python guys (not Terry or John clease - the other guy). Once we arrived, we shared a "taxi"(back of a pickup) to the BishiBishi hotel where we're staying for $5 a night (for a double room!). The shore is just across the road and the water looked so inviting that we decided to forego eating and go snorkeling. Bailey and I jumped into our swimsuits and met Tom in the palm tree courtyard. Walked a good 30 minutes to where the reef makes islands under water and headed into the sea. The water wasn't too cold. We walked out a bit before starting to swim over the shallow reef. Then, all of a sudden, the bottom dropped 50 feet and we were on the edge of the most amazing coral cliff! Fish were everywhere, just like in the documentaires. I followed a school of irridescent blue fish, then just explored the rainbow colored reef, occasionally shouting out to Bailey to look at some creature. At one point, I asked Bailey to just hover over an area with me and she nervously explained that she didn't want to look like an injured fish to a hungry shark that might come by! WE never saw any sharks, although small ones do comy by, but I realized then how shocking this all was to her. Later, Bailey admitted to freaking out somewhat, being surrounded by so much life, but it was so beautiful that she just pushed through the fear. Tom, who is an experienced diver, said it was better even than the Great Barrier reef or Thailand. So, we're just gonna stay right here till Saturday, with snorkel. Again, nature is being awesome! Stay tuned for underwater pictures.

Feel lucky on the Felucca

There are 2 ways of travelling down the Nile - in a large riverboat resembling a floating mall or a romantic felucca with its teradactyl-sized sail (in other words, big, like the ones I've seen in movies). Of course, we chose to glide slowly downriver, mostly just pushed along by the current, since the wind was so low. It was easy to find a boat. Our hotel was near the captains' cafe where all the felucca captains hang out and watch football, drink tea and smoke sheesha. Ayoub, our handsome 33 year old captain, took us there to discuss the trip. We ended up being a group of 5, Bailey and me, Jessica, and Heather and Christina from Canada. Then, there was Mustafa the cook and Abdu the skipper. Abdu did just about everything on board. He's almost 70 and frequently climbed to the top of the mast, dressed in his MC Hammer pants and turban. He was always talking fast to me in Arabic at full speed and I tried to assist him occasionally by steering or holding the sail taut as he made repairs while docked. I liked participating in the function of the boat, even if it was minor. It's the difference between just looking at a game or playing in it. I became part of the movement, rather than just a rider. But, ride I did. I loved hanging over the edge and letting my hand cut through the still water. I watched the east bank and then the west bank float by as we tacked from riverside to riverside. Once, I watched a white fox trot down the river. He stopped to drink where the cows were drinking. Must have been a fresh spot. I loved laying on the flat, cushioned deck and just reading or thinking under the cloth roof.

We spent 2 days and 2 nights on this deck, all 8 of us. It was tight. We talked a lot and played cards. And at night, everyone snored so much that Ayoub recorded us on his cell phone at 3 AM for a good laugh the next morning. Any time you spend 48 hours with 8 people so intimately, there's bound to be some drama. The first came as we crossed another boat going upstream. Abdu started yelling back and forth with the driver of the other felucca. It was so heated and passionate and then he spit at him as a finishing touch! I looked at Ayoub and he said that was his son, the bad son, who had gone to jail and was a shame to the family. Yikes. Then, there was some kind of scene between Heather and Ayoub and Jessica when they went ashore to tour a "museum" of someone's home,in a tuk tuk (a motorbike taxi) and were being charged 32 Egypt. pounds for it. Christina and Bailey and I had stayed behind on the boat, but when they returned, you could cut the air with a knife. No one would talk about it on board, so it was a bit weird trying to figure out why Jessica and Ayoub were in the cabin together talking seriously and Heather just sitting on deck rolling her eyes. I told Bailey about a trick I know of to keep other people's bad mojo off of you. We closed our eyes and imagined a blue light around us like a bubble that would keep us fresh and lighthearted. It worked pretty well and so we just continued talking and playing cards and enjoyed the delicious dinner that Mustafa had cooked.

The firswt night there, Bailey and I rode across the Nile to the other side in a small fishing boat with Ayoub and his fisherman friend. I only found out later why we did this when I say the captain rolling a joint in his cabin. It's apparently quite common in these parts, but he was very discreet about it. Anyway, I loved hearing the oars hitting the water and rubbings against the wooden boat. I've become so much more of a sound junky on this trip. The noises, or lack of them, are a huge part of the picture. It could also be that since I've lost hearing in one ear I'm more appreciative of this sense.

The trip on a whole was pretty peaceful and I don't remember doing very much, just watching the palm trees and mossy grasslands at the shore with sand dunes rising ot too far in the distance. I liked waving to the giant riverboat passengers. Have you ever seen the Woody Allen movie where he's in this train and it's all dull and colorless and then he looks out at another train and everyone inside is beautifula dn having fun? Well, I felt like we were the beautiful people on our felucca, all tanned and happy and peaceful, waving to the poor bored folks on deck of their metal and glass shoebox boat. I felt like were were living the good life, free of motors and chairs and buffets. Give me wind and river and a good book anyday!

Sand Castles

When I was little, I loved making sand castles. My bucket would be the castle form and then I would always try to dig out the insides as far as possible without having it collapse. I imagined the spiral stairs and the cavernous rooms inside. Well, today, I found my imagination in reality. I found Abu Simbel. This is a temple carved out of a sandy mountain along the Nile by Ramses II for his queen Nefratari. The entrance is collosal, with 4 gigantic sitting figures on each side of the massive entryway. The door faces the sunrise and we arrived at 7AM, so we were able to experience the beauty of having natural light stream into the temple rooms. I cannot imagine how simple men scooped out enough mountain to make rooms with 18 foot ceilings and then engrave heiroglyphs and paintings on every surface inside. 4000 year old paint is still there on the walls. And although the crowd of tourists was a bit overwhelming, Bailey and I managed to find ourselves alone in one of the rooms at one point. These are always special moments, and the sand castle was ours for a minute, letting us inhabit it as our own and feel like queens. As we walked out, squinting towards the sun and the Nile, I felt proud of being human, for once, knowing we are capable of making amazing beautiful things.