I
want you to think really hard at your latest crossroad, the last time you had
to make a life changing decision, not knowing the outcome at the time.
Now
it is done, I would like you to think about what you know today, about what
time has told you, and I wish to ask you one question: Would you make the same
choice?
Flying
back to Egypt, last week, was like looking through a sepia filter, the same way as you gaze at old photographs and the way they tickle your senses. The colours, as you
hover over Cairo, all blend into shades of sand. As much as one can romanticize, Cairo is not beautiful, it is hard
to the eye of the foreigner and since nowadays, everything must be nice and
pretty, it slaps you back across the face as its wind does during the
sandstorm.
The
risk, when returning to a place after having left it, is the mere realization
that this place has moved on without you, its chaotic traffic is untouched, its
welded wires are still sticking upright and the Earth kept revolving at a
delightful chaotic rhythm, undisturbed by your departure.
The
Gulf of Aqaba is always a soothing place. The Neptunian world is always
seducing and the options are endless. This time, to my surprise, Petra became
an opportunity.
There is much to learn of the Nabataean people and their
mastering of rock carving, as well as water system. In this humbling trek of
many kilometers lay the remains, the iceberg of Petra.
Revealed
again to the world recently by an eager archeologist, they say Petra is still
uncovered up to 80 percent.
The gate of Petra, Al Khazneh (the treasure) is as
flabbergasting as the many tombs and caves that lead down to the Bedouin
village, at its Southern tip. As you walk down the narrow passages, the Siq, carved
by both ancient seas, marked and shaped by the colourful whip of the wind, this old
artificial oasis comes to life and allows you, for a few seconds, to envision
its busy past; first crowded by its builders, then taken by the Romans and finally the Bedouins.
Punctuated by the gate, the caves and amphitheater, you finally
reach the final plain where your hike upward will be rewarded by the most
colourful caves, the royal tombs, where the acoustic is as striking as its
nuances, due to the concentration of both iron and granite trapped in the
sandstone. You may meet Ahmed, a sweet little boy who lives nearby and strolls around Petra daily, smiling away.
It
was a wonderful solitary trip, and despite the long journey (bus/ferry/boat – 6
hours), it is a decision I would make again, if I was asked.
Meeting
students is also another way to replenish your heart in the fastest and
strongest possible fashion. To have been blessed to teach young minds and have
been allowed into their hearts is something to be grateful every moment, every
day. Another decision to validate.
Meeting
friends, or rather family, in Cairo is also a wonderful feeling, even though it
implies the fatidic question: How’s Tunis/are you happy with your latest chosen turn in life?
It
is a very interesting question, as if one could uproot deep links and simply
replace them in another land. You hear yourself say that it is fine, implying
it isn’t the same and then your mouth improvises for you, adding a few French notes to your unconscious melody, before you can even
think of what your real answer is.
Then,
you hear this thought, in the middle of a reunion with a friend dear to your
heart, a deafening thought is crowding your mind: Would you change
your mind about leaving, knowing what you know today?
It
remains an unanswered question, dear friends.
Realistically,
moving to a new place, especially when you carry more bags than your own, is a
challenge. For the past decade, the roots have been moved about for the fourth
times, sometimes uprooted, other times severed. Does it mean that they will never latch on again, or is it simply part
of the expat game we all try to play at………
Time
will tell, but the truth is that, in our nomadic Esto/Franco garden, the two most important flowers are happily and strongly blooming daily and the oaks, sheltering them, are also contently growing, which in fact means that, yes, we must all be happy here.
Tunis, out.
