after a couple of days

Its been a few days now. This morning we took the Metro to another part of Cairo where Travis spoke with such authority on the Word that it dripped from his lips like sweet sticky honey that you just can't get off your fingers or out of your mouth. And to have thoughts of submission sticking to your fingers all day will manipulate one's attitude. I rolled in it.

While we were there, we young and virginal interns dipped into the Egyptian culture for the first time. The roads were a bit more frightening (for the girls, not me; Me man -- me no scared of big dumb machines). Then once we arrived, and I'm not sure any of us knew exactly what we were to uncover when we stepped into the dawning room. Before I type another letter, I feel it necessary to mention that the hospitality of this country, whether resident, refugee, or expatriate brings shame to the term "Southern Hospitality". Egypt wins. Back to the shyly curious interns. My personal thoughts moved towards listening to Travis speak about something Biblical for an hour or so. How wrong was I.

We began by splitting up. I don't care to expound on this but I've observed a couple different times when our intern team chooses to split rather than gather the same experience. The invitation for each of us to join a separate group sprang to my dumbfounded ears. As I dug the rocks out, I blessed God for removing that rubble so that I could for the first time see the look on an Egyptian face when he and I connected despite our linguistic differences. At that moment, the discussion meant so much less than the connection that had just happened. Why these people are so enamored by we Americans, I will never know. Someone tried to explain it one time. Perhaps I am just a bit too calloused by my criticism to find the glories of my native land.

We took pictures, exchanged email, and left.

The present 71.4% of our youth team (5 of 7, I had to use a calculator) worked for most of the rest of the day and blah blah blah. Boring boring things that are probably important on some level but useless to write about, just as the time it takes to write that it is useless to write about how useless it might be. Follow? Good.

Shower, rest, be late to Thursday night church (holy day is Friday here, by the way), grab dinner and head to a falucha (sp?). Our team plus a few loving souls joined us for this ride. A falucha is a traditional Egyptian river sailboat. We fumbled across a couple other rickety rockers before we planted a wobbly stomp on our own vessel. Departure and we kicked back and set sail for a 3 hour tour, a 3 hour tour. Really it was only 2 hours but a strong 2 hours. We spent our time with conversation that only a falucha could solicit. In the dim twinkle of the bulb above us we poured out our souls with scorching vulnerability. Who does that? It rocked more than the our tiny ship.

Though we actually had 8 we still personified that dearly loved cast - With Gilligan (KG), Skipper too (Travis), The millionaire and his wife (Annie and Revo, actually two girls attached at the hip), the movie star (Ashley), the professor (Colin) and Mary Ann (Mo), here on Gilligan's Island. I'll be the at-home viewing audience, since that is how I felt most of the night. Even as I spoke, the scene was so surreal that there was no way I was actually experiencing this trip.

We never did crash on any deserted isles but Maadi will suffice. I like it here. I think I'll stay.