The Reason for the Season

Its beginning to look a lot like Ramadan,/ Everywhere we go. / The fasting lasts til five,/ when they drink, feast, smoke, and jive,/ Til the long morrow.

This week marks the beginning of a lunar month long "celebration" of the holy Muslim month of Ramadan. This is a time of fasting and devotion to the almighty Allah. Allow me to enlighten you on the daily process: It kicks off with a huge feast the night before the fasting officially begins. All the Muslims then wake the next day and to starve themselves not only of the pleasures of tasty Egyptian food but also from the essential hydration found in such delectable liquids such as water. The sweltering Egyptian sun steals the otherwise cool breeze of the sweet evening chill, announcing a massive Muslim mood monopoly mourning meals until moon muddles more mystery in place of the blazing ball. The forks hover over husky plates hungry to splurge at the reminder of the five o'clock chime.

American radio stations spit out the garbáge colláge of advertising-indited Christmas tunes we all sweetly hum along to as we curse our trafficmate who is nosing into the line we patiently waited in while trying to access a remote parking spot a mere mile away from the mall entrance. One month. From Thanksgiving until nearly the end of our established year we graze in this holiday festivity. So it is with Ramadan.


The street lights are decorated with goofy Muslim festivities and strange lanterns hang from shop corners. There is one near our home here that has a hot pink man adorned in one version of a neon green (traditional) man-dress garb. The man-dress is traditional, not the lime green. The streets are a bit reminiscent of Christmas decor, and if you go out at just the right time, it almost smells like a turkey roasting on a sweet rotisserie until the gorgeous smell of guts and garbage burn our nostrils. Then there is a good chance you might dismiss those festive memories.

Story #2

Yesterday we went crept across the burning desert sands at a snailing 120 km/h yesterday. That's not really all that fast (75 mi/h) but we, on occasion scooted our little snail wheels up to a decent 160 once or twice since the Egyptian tollways refuse to police at night. As we inched forward on that ride, the white sandy beaches and salt of the sweet blue sea water stole away my thoughts to another time taking me back to the beaches of dear Mexico. And oh, how Ain Souhkna surpassed our expectation. Because of this, my forehead itches a bit from the slight singeing it received, but well worth it. I wish I had words to articulate the experience but as with many experiences here, I lack the patience to wait for my muse.

Onward to the next new experience.