Tuesday, 6 May 2014

Two sides of a coin

Pour la traduction en Francais, cliquez ICI.


A few centuries ago, gazing at the stars as you fell asleep was common to our ancestors. Nowadays, we look up, having supposedly “evolved”, knowing very little about the constellations above our heads.


My recent trip in Ras Mohamed, near Sharm El Sheikh, south of the Sinai Peninsula, was exhilarating but also sadly combined with a reality check.
 




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                      The first aspect to mention is the scenery. Tents, sand dunes and water are the only things in focus, guarded by mountains in the distance (and a military point nearby!). At dawn, the whisper of the waves a few meters away and the light of the sun tune in with your biological clock and help you welcome another day. If you wake up early enough (5.11 with enough coffee), you can see the sunrise and the changing of colours all around you, as well as the crabs dancing on the shore and returning to their sand holes.


 
During the day, the temperature gradually increases and reaches its climax around 2pm; it is beautifully warm and sunny, and the nights are quite cool, depending on your heat/cold tolerance level!


 
At dusk, dinner and company discussions revolve around the diving of the day, lit by candle light and the roaring fire sitting on the sand, a few meters away from the water. Upwards is where the real party is: countless stars, spots of light shine from all directions and light up the sky and make you realise how rarely we ever look up and enjoy their presence.

In our time, we pay for desert camping or nature adventures! We have regressed so far in our illusion of progress, that our natural connection is partially or fully severed, leaving us stare upwards occasionally, dumbfounded by the celestial map.



·                        The second experience is diving. After enjoying a sunrise, you can gear up and enjoy another element. The water is crystal clear and the aquatic life is buzzing, as always. Part of the advanced diving qualification includes the deep dive and a night dive – I was personally worried by the latter. The deep dive was amazing, with the spectrum of lights changing. As for the night dive, it was a frightening/magical moment, where you descend with a lamp as  your only source of light around. If you stop it for a while and move your hand around, the plankton will light up, like sparkles or stars dancing around you, following your movements. 


All the above is marveling at Egypt. I coincidentally have started reading for the third time the Alchemist, that young boy who discovers Egypt with the crystal seller and gradually learns to love its wonder, despite his poor start, having been robbed from his money.

Similarly, when we came, I felt we had been robbed of our initial feel of Egypt, with the state of emergency and curfew and I have, since then, insisted on trying to see its best assets, and they are plentiful!

Yet, marveling is state that passed with a strong slap, right across your face, as during dinner, a glass was raised to an announcement.


         The plan was to drive back yet, as dinner happens, an announcement is delivered. There had been 2 bombings at a checkpoints near our camp. At this stage, despite the décor, the very same magic scenery turns into a tunnel vision that only leads towards fear and uncertainty. Suddenly, it doesn't feel like you are living the dream in the land of sand, it feels unsafe and responsibilities come back assailing your head with questions. Flying was the option and thanks to good friends, it is a first class ticket that took me home. Retrospectively, having arrived and reunited with my responsibilities, the detour in Dahab was really wonderful. 

              That night, I hated some parts of Egypt, I hated it for its insecurity and its whirlpool of violence. Am I comfortable knowing that the upcoming elections will spark more troubles? We remain, the expats, a very lucky population in Cairo and across the country; I guess we just need to focus on that luck and hope for the best.


3 comments:

  1. Very poignant Lucie (I am trying to use French words; my few pale in comparison to your beautiful and vibrant use of English).

    I loved Dahab, although I never did any SCUBA there. But I must say these are the things that scare me. It is so remote over there it is hard to imagine anyone coming to your rescue should you need it.

    I do share your fascination and wonder with the stars. It is like that in parts of Wyoming, and on the Navajo reservation where I met Ben's dad, and in the Mediterranean in a small boat with no lamp... but I haven't seen the stars properly in years, and many people never have and never will.

    Merci beau coup for the blog! Holly

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  2. Thank you so much Bethany and Holly for taking the time to leave a comment on the blog!.
    Holly, you're completely right about the stars... I miss our chats, you would have loved this trip, it was really "soul-soothing".

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