October 4, 2010 to October 20, 2010
I pray what I write here is clear and concise. We’ve been so extremely busy the last four days that I haven’t had time to write a word. I did take notes on the plane, and that’s it. So I’m depending on my memory for all the amazing things that can happen in four days.
October 4 – 5.
Out at the YVR at 2:30 pm we were excited and packed and off to the races, so to speak. The travel from Vancouver to Frankfurt was extremely uneventful. Nothing more than a few minutes of turbulence.
I scribbled on a piece of paper because I didn’t have my journal with me.
Oct 4, 2010:
The first day of pilgriamage. We started at the airport. Gary’s ticket info was perfect. No problem. I however, had a problem. My tickets were all refunded. I did not exist on this flight. So, thanks to Priscilla, things got fixed. The counterman said to us, “I’m sorry, you should contact your travel agent, regarding this problem. Well, in a minute my travel agent was standing beside me at the counter.
Currently I am flying over Hudson’s Bay. Most of the people on this flight are German. So very interesting.
St. Hildegard of Bingen. My favorite new friend in heaven. Well, I see her. A beautiful, violent eyed woman of around 60 years old, slender and hair of silver. Pure silver. I see Hildegard in her measured movements. So makes me smile when I look at her, which probably makes her think that I’m nuts. Besides that, I am captivated by the thought that Hildegard looked like her. So amazing.
People on this plane are going everywhere. I hear French, see a woman reading a travel book on St. Petersburg, and of course all of us Pilgrims.
I have to say, this flight has been the best ever. Great food and drink, thoughtful air stewards. I really hope to sleep soon. God willing.
Our priest has been in Cairo four 5 days before us. How cool is that.
FRANKFURT AIRPORT:
So, it’s 4:44 am in Vancouver, but 1:44 pm here in at the Frankfurt airport. I go from adrenaline high to extreme tired. Gary slept for awhile, listening to the radio shows. Just for info the SONY noise reducing headphones suck, compared to the BOSE. (The Sony’s were $49, the Bose were $300. Go figure.
Frankfurt to Cairo.
CAIRO
Whatever you have seen of Cairo in movies, or read of Cairo in books. Forget about it.
You can watch youtube videos for hours, as I did, to get an idea of what to expect. Forget about it.
You can read travel guides, tourist advisories, internet travel information. Forget about it.
Nothing you read or watch on tv can prepare you for the sensory overload that Cairo offers you. It is a city that vibrates with energy, with life, with the unknown, with centuries of heritage, with secrets behind every Egyptian eye.
A friend of mine told me a few weeks ago how he loves to look into a person’s eyes carefully. He says the eyes are the windows of the soul, and he’s always looking for God within the person.
Well, in Cairo, the eyes of the Egyptian are magical, secretive, beautiful, alien. There is no way you can, with the eyes of the westerner, understand or quite see God, although of course He resides in all the creatures that He loves. There is a pulse to this city that speaks centuries. I look at these beautiful people and imagine Pharoah and his armies, his concubines, his children. These people come from the stock that witnessed the building of the pyramids, who prayed to Isis, Horus, and Seqt.
The children are so beautiful. Their lean bodies, their huge eyes. Many of the children we saw sold things. As our pampered children go to school all day, come home to a comfortable couch, play on their computer, watch tv, and complain about the food on the table, these children work all day for an American dollar for just a few trinkets. One cannot imagine their life as evening comes, and they have not enough or much money. They may make more money than their parents, it is hard to say.
Imagine if you will, a city of 21 million people. And in this city there are two traffic lights, which by the way, are largely ignored. And in this city there are no traffic lanes. So in most cases the lanes are not obligatory. Our guide says in Cairo there are three schools of thought when it comes to driving.
1. Say sorry. Then do what you want.
2. Do what you want. Then say sorry.
3. Don’t say sorry. Do what you want.
While we were driving to our hotel room, many people were concerned about the driving. Our guide said, “no problem, don’t worry, it’s just Cairo”. All around us were cars with no lights, bashed in side parts, brand new cars, motorcycles with three people on them, donkey carts filled to the brim, being driven by one donkey and a child, motorcycles converted into some sort of vehicle, buses with people hanging from them, cars with kids on the trunks, hanging on. No seatbelts, children standing and sitting. A car could have as many as 12 people crammed into it. Volkswagen buses with no trunks, no doors, people hanging on the backs and sides. There would be six lanes, then five, then six. Cars constantly honking. Beep Beep Beep, BEEEEP, Beep, BEEP BEEP, BEEEEEEP. Looking to the side we see motorcycles merging into our lane at the halfway point, cars everywhere, people walking across the street in this mayhem. Animals, people, stray dogs. Cars stopping in traffic, people getting out and walking across the street in full traffic. People parking on the bridge, getting out their plastic chairs and having a little sit down with some sheesha in waterpipes. Plastic chairs all across the bridge. After dinner, people take their chairs, and might sit in the median of the highways, watching cars go by. Outside of shops everywhere, people sitting and watching traffic go by.
Driving to our hotel, we saw so many buildings which looked empty. At least at night. No lights. We find out that all of these thousands of buildings are indeed occupied. It’s a play of wills between the government and the builders, who build on property which was supposed to be farmland, and protected. Well, they built anyway, and the government has cut off all power to these buildings, which are occupied anyway, so you can only imagine what this looks like. Believe me, you can only imagine.
It looks like a war zone. It looks like the bombs have dropped, but there are survivors.
On the Giza side of Cairo, there is garbage everywhere. Garbage on the streets, sidewalks, in the Nile, on the banks of the Nile. Garbage. I’m not writing this down to discourage you from visiting. I hope to visit this city again someday. It’s just the difference of life between where we live and this city. It certainly makes you appreciate where you live, but at the same time, this is life here. Millions of people, living in buildings, built a few years ago, with no power. Can you imagine, no power, no water in one of the biggest cities in the world?
Our hotel room is fine. I still do not sleep much however. The cars honk all night long and then at four am the “Call to Prayer” begins, which is stirring me. Amazing, and beautiful and longing. You can hear the man’s longing for God in the voice.
Of course our shower does not have hot water, and the bathroom toilet, it just barely works. But the breakfast and dinner buffet is tasty, and interesting.
On to to the pyramids. Again, you can watch movies with pyramids, read books, watch youtubes. You cannot imagine exactly what is happening at the pyramids at Giza until you experience them for yourself. And if everything I have written about so far has scared you off, I am sorry for you. Because even in the craziness of the street vendors and souvenir hawkers, there is more, so much more to experience.
Find your spot and look up. Look way up. If you are lucky enough to have a certified Egyptologist/archeologist as we did, then you can only begin to understand the construction and religious aspects to the building of these amazing structures. You can try to let go and just experience them.
The Sphinx and the whole Giza experience is amazing, when you let go and immerse yourself in the full experience, which includes the noise of the hawkers. Some people really hate this experience because of the sellers, but I think it’s part of the Egyptian experience, nothing more, nothing less. People have been selling things on the streets here for thousands of years. Just because we’re used to going to Costco, doesn’t negate the fact that this is part of their way.
However, there was a strange, surreal experience that I did have. I don’t know if I can put this in words.
We were at Sakara, the ancient pyramid, which is considered the oldest, the grandfather of the pyramid system. Indeed it was beautiful, and intact, and there was a colonnade that was built recently to resemble what was there at one time. This collonade was like a hallway, in a way, with pillars and a dark cool interior which led us into the open courtyard of the pyramid and supporting structures.
Our tour group decided to ascend the stairs of one of the supporting structures, which gave a beautiful view of the area, etc. The stairs had no handrail, and people were walking up and down these stairs, but going down stairs without a handrail makes me have vertigo, so I decided to stay.
As I was walking around, a man selling things came up to me, and I did look into his eyes. He wanted to sell me postcards. Just a dollar, he said. I had no money with me. It was safely in the bus. I just had a camera and my hat. That was it. He said, no problem, if you want anything lady, just look for me, Hasheem, Got it lady? Yes I said. (no big deal).
The day was stifling hot and I was starting to get daydreamy tired. Gary and his group had long gone upstairs, but just before going upstairs, Gary handed me some postcards that he bought.
So there I was, standing in the shade. Postcard and souvenir hawkers started to pounce on me, and bother me. A beautiful man, German, told them to stop bothering me. He was very forceful and helpful. The hawkers left me alone … for a while.
I stood and waited, and waited. Time goes by sleepily when it’s hot, it’s the afternoon, and you’ve had maybe three hours sleep in two days.
Hasheem came up to me, angry. Why lady, you lie to me, why lady! You have postcard! Why you not buy from me, Hasheem!
No, I have no money, and as I looked around I realized I was alone. Not one member of our tour group was near me. Anywhere. Just this yelling Egyptian.
I realized I had no sense of time, and didn’t have a watch. We were supposed to be at the bus at a certain time, but without any idea of what time it was, I was suddenly very frightened. I had been distracted by the vendors and Hasheem. Had they left without me?
I started to walk very fast towards the colonnade, with Hasheem right on my heels, yelling at me, wanting money, saying “Where is your husband, you tell me lady, where is he? People were turning to see this man following me, with total sympathy, but that was it. I had to get to the bus. I had to see if the bus was still there.
There were 20 buses all lined up, and they all looked the same. I had to hope one of them, was ours. Suddenly I saw the bus. Sampguita tours bus #2.
Thank God. I ran into the bus. Hasheem gave up. Huffing and puffing and thanking God that I was okay. There were three or four people sleeping on the bus. They did not go to this grouping of pyramids, opting for sleep instead.
____
We were fortunate enough to get tickets for Aida, an opera based out of an Egyptian story, and see it at the pyramids at Giza, at night. Gary opted to stay home.
It was an experience of a lifetime. So far I have said so many times that nothing prepares you for Cairo. Well, nothing prepares you for this either. It was beautiful. Yes, the singers, some of them, were not perfect. I was in fact, sitting beside serious opera lovers who could recognize every wrong note, every nuance missed in every aria, and that only made me want to see the perfection of a leading opera singer one day.
I came to tears many times throughout the evening. The reality of sitting outside, in Cairo, looking at the Sphinx, the two beautiful pyramids, a red carpet entry into the darkness of the seated area, the warm breeze, the lights, the staging. I cannot put into words properly what an opportunity I had.
_______
So the next day, we got up at 6am. I work up early to hear Gary. He had received a curse of Cairo. An intestinal disorder which took his whole body and like a wet rag, pulled him into a walking zombie. He was sweating, diarreah,, vomiting. So sick. Fortunately, we had the medicine to do the job, and we had one doctor and several nurses in our group, which instructed me on how to help him. I came upstairs with the instructions, and Gary stayed home, as we toured mosques, synagogues and the Coptic section of Cairo.
I liked the mosque very much. I learned a lot about Islamic history and it was interesting being in the presence of these people.
I felt much more at home in the Coptic neighbourhood, which included a synagogue. The Coptics are Christian, and there is a historical reason for the synagogue. I felt at home on the narrow streets and the little churches, and really loved the major Coptic church, the Hanging Church, which had relic and the most amazing Coptic Iconography that I will ever see. I could have spent hours, no days, looking and learning about the icons in that church. The Hanging Church of the Coptic section of Cairo will stay in my heart for a long time. And I am writing this down so I can learn more about the Icons. One Day. Lynda bought a book on the Coptic Icons. I wish I had bought one as well. Maybe one day. But then, it’s not like I’m not going to see an icon in Jerusalem….
We went to Zeitun, to the Coptic church where Our Lady visited in 1968. It’s a very holy place with very gentle and beautiful people. It’s not a tourist trap. Yes, there were still souvenir hawkers there, but the prices were ridiculously low. I received five nice rosaries for $3, and that was in a store. Apart from that, there is real beauty here in the people and in the place. Her visit left a long-lasting impression on the people. A wedding was happening in the church that night.
In fact, on the way home we saw four weddings, and then in the hotel a wedding was finishing up, and in the lobby, the Egyptian flute and drums were going. Very very loud. The women were making that unique sound in their mouths. The trilling sound. And they were taking turns dancing in front of the bride and groom, and inviting other women to dance as well. I’m not quite sure what that is about, but there was a lot of laughter. So in the lobby you have this loud Egyptian wedding and in the other corner of the lobby you have some pilgrims (from another group) singing and praying loudly, songs to Jesus.
Welcome to the Middle East.
________
The next day, we flew to Amman. In the middle of the night, I got sick. I thought I had gas. I didn’t. A nightmare. As I am already used to the type of pain that is experienced, due to having IBS, that didn’t throw me, but the idea of eating wasn’t a good idea. The first pill was taken at 2am in the morning. We had to get up at 3:45 to pack and leave on the plane to Jordan. I took the next pill at 9am. I started to improve.
We reached Jordan.
______
Jordan.
You have not experienced Jordan. You have not read about Jordan, or seen movies about Jordan. You don’t even know where Jordan is on the map.
That’s a probable. If you do know these things, then, honestly you know more than I did.
Yes, I tried to prepare. But everything I prepared for did not compare to the pleasant surprise of this beautiful country.
How clean it is. How friendly the people are. How wonderful and charitable they are.
I had the best lunch, maybe one of the best dinners I’ve ever had. Definitely the best service. The lunch was a mezza and a mixed grill and fruit. I have videos of it. I have pictures of it. Nothing that I took pictures of compares to the experience. Again, Sorry.
I can’t write about perfection like that. One thing for sure, if you read this, and you are not me, ask me to make lemon and mint for you. Trust me, you may not want to drink anything else, ever.
I was going to fast, for heaven’s sake. I thought, a little tea, that would be good. Basheer, our guide, he told us how wonderful the Bedouin culture and food is. Yes, he is not lying. The food and culture and the people are wonderful.
We got home, I went to bed at 3pm, and did not really rise until 6am the next day. 15 hours of sleep, minus a few minutes here and there.
I woke up in the middle of the night with the Don Bosco Song singing away. It was like a choir of voices were singing away, Now I really wish I could write the words down, but trust me, in the middle of the night I was singing with the choir and knew the words. How strange is that. The more strange thing is that the relics of Don Bosco are coming to my church. Today.
Another beautiful strange thing is our mass today. During mass, I always pray for intentions of various people. I let the Holy Spirit direct my prayer. God knows more than I do, and there are so many intentions that I know to pray for. During the intercessory prayer section, I ask God to bless all the intentions that I bring with me, and there are many, but I allow and hope that the Holy Spirit brings certain people to mind. Today, the Holy Spirit brought me the two Brians. One Brian, is my brother in law, and he has a really bad back, the other Brian is my daughter’s husbands Uncle Brian, who has terminal cancer. I asked the Lord to Bless and heal both Brians, and as I always do with men, bring them closer to Jesus, ESPECIALLy in the Sacred Heart. The Sacred Heart of Jesus. I always pray for every man in my life to be blessed in this way. I also prayed for Anne to be blessed and asked that St Joseph bless her and bring her heart closer to the will of God.
Anyway after Mass, I asked Father, what was the name of this beautiful church?
Sacred Heart. He told me. There you go.
Today we also visited the Citadel and Jerash.
We drove by the place where legend tells us that Uriah the Hittite met his end. The wall is there. It is chilling to know this. We are starting to enter into our Biblical historical walk here. In Egypt we stood in the place where Joseph and Mary were hidden. Which is so interesting because it is literally steps from where Moses was hidden and taken by the queen of Egypt. Both were escaping the murder of the innocents. Just steps, literally steps from each other. My Lord. My God. You are a God of Surprises.
One surprising thing about this pilgrimage so far is the surprises. At the Citadel we kept on hearing bagpipes. Now imagine this, if you will. You are in a Middle Eastern Country, looking over the city of limestone and the heat bearing down on you. You have experienced so much in the last few days you are fully aware that you have sensory overload.
A ridiculous thing happens to your senses. You start to hear bagpipes playing. Irish songs, Scottish Songs, Southern US civil war songs. Amazing grace. The music drifts in and out of your head. Are you hearing this? No, your mind tells you. This is impossible.
Then you walk up to the museum. Yes, bagpipes. An Arabian, complete with red and white headdress, and white arab robes playing a bagpipe.
Is he amused by the look of wonder on each person walking by?
In the museum, another surprise. My eyes are looking at the Dead Sea Scrolls. Just another thing, that I say again, you can’t imagine. You can’t experience this until you are standing there, in front of something that changed history. Forever.
____
Jerash. I suppose I will get tired of saying you can’t imagine. Maybe I should just use a shortcut word like yci (similar to lol).
Jerash is a Jordanian City, built in the 1st and 2nd century AD. By the Romans, but inhabitated by the people of Jerash.
Elijah was born here.
I want to close my eyes and feel the wind. I feel the wind. God, is he in the wind?
I want to close my senses and wait. Did Elijah look for God in the space I’m inhabiting right now? Was he six, seven, 12 years old, thinking about God in the exact space I’m inhabiting?
There is the sound of bagpipes. Now this is simply getting ridiculous. What is happening here?
Our tour guide is helpful. Bagpipes are loved in Jordan. Now that should not deter you from coming here, please. Come to Jordan. I’m a tour guide there now. The people, the place is so lovely.
The shepherds of Jordan had an instrument made of the stomach of the sheep and they also had drums made from the skins of the sheep. They used these instruments in their herding. The music was very similar.
When Britain took over Jordan, they brought some of their culture, as they always do, and the Jordanians took the bagpipes. And made it their own. But I must say, Watching them play their bagpipes and strum their drums in pure Scottish fashion in their Arabian robes is something completely… well…. You have to experience this really, yourself.
Personally, I loved it.
We were walking back from Jerash when we encountered Roman soldiers, slaves, and gladiators. Only in the Middle East, right, can you walk down a Roman Road in a city pretty darn intact, complete with two ampitheaters, you can see exactly where the shops are, you can see the ruts of the roman carts, see women in full burka nursing their babies in alcoves.
You are not in Surrey anymore, Marla.
Okay, this is all that I remember at this point. Unfortunately, due to the business of pilgrimage, typing away at the computer is not a priority.
But fortunately, this is a pilgrimage, and throwing away the necessity of having to write everything down all the time is the way it is.
I am thankful to God to letting me walk in his home turf. I am thankful for being able to prayer. I am thankful that the medicine works. I am thankful that Gary was at mass with me one day. I am thankful for the people I am pilgrim-ing with. I am thankful that we are for the most part, a family of pilgrims.
Praise God.
Dear Diary, Hope to write again soon. TOMORROW, we go to mass on Mount Nebo, where Moses overlooked the HOLY LAND. We will be at Petra tomorrow.
Petra. Tomorrow. Wow.
OH, it rained for the first time in months. The first day of the rainy season. We saw COUNTLESS accidents on the streets, which turned to a soapy mess. The combination of sand, and product, and oil on the streets turned the streets to a sliding mess.
It’s sunny now.
Suppertime in a few minutes. So bye bye, Computer. And bye bye reader…. Blessings to you, in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ.
Mount Nebo and Madeba, Jordan.
Sunday, October 11
John the Baptist lived close to this place. Herod had a palace here. There was an earthquake in 749 that made this little town of Madeba a ghost town for a thousand years.
The Christian famiies here are grouped by family tribe. They call themselves tribes. As in tribes of David.
The tour guide's family has been here for centuries as farmers and herders of sheep and camels. Turks settled here in 1884 and the ottoman governor okayed permission to rebuild the ancient churches.
Madaba – the city of mosaics. This place, as small as it is, is historically, biblically and spiritually important enough for ottoman kings, and two recent popes to visit it. On the day that we visisted, the King of Jordan was going to visit and speak to his people, listening to their problems, offering solutions. The people of Jordan love their king and respect him. This little town really hasn’t changed much at all in the last 1,000 years, in most cases. Yes, there are Kentucky Fried Chickens, and Pizza Parlours, internet cafes, and tire stores, but somehow they all blend in. I love the faces. Children were just coming out of school when we were walking the streets. People were sweeping their store fronts, to get ready for the king. The most unusual thing is that there were linen sheets, 20 to 40 feet long with spray painted messages literally all over the place. In 100 feet you might see 40 of them across the street and over storefronts, with greetings to the King.
That brings to mind that things really haven’t changed here. Ancestors of these same people paid homage to David, to Herod, to any king in power. A big difference from where we live. Our leaders get hoards of protesters, political cartoons and scathing reports on CNN.
Now I’m not saying that we should lay down and give homage in a slave like manner to any elected official. They are held to a certain degree of honesty and integrity and deserve the respect earned.
Mount Nebo (from my on the road journal)
Joshua and Jessica, I prayed for you both here today. Moses on this mountain, saw the promised land. He saw the hills of Jerusalem, Jericho, the River Jordan. God told Moses he would die on this mountain and a new sheperd, Joshua, would lead his people into the promised land.
A perfect place to pray for you, Joshua, that the Lord bless you with wisdom and strength for any journey that you are called to.
My dear sister Shelley, your rosary lay beside mine on Mount Nebo. I took a picture. Your rosary, my relic rosary and my working rosary. I prayed for you in the silence of my heart.
Gary pulled me away from the scorching heat to shade.
As I stood, looking out to the hills of Jerusalem, my heart, it suddenly broke into pieces. I wept, I sobbed. I could not stop. Gary and I started down to the bus. Other women were weeping as well. So, I finally stopped crying. Until I started writing this.
In Madaba I purchased some locally made jewellery (Bedouin women have a cooperative) Apparently, it’s a new practice for Bedouin women to do unconventional things, such as making jewellery. With the assistance and encouragement of the queen, and the queen mother, they are doing very well. I now have a ring, and bracelet and necklace.
We had a Shawara for lunch, a sandwich rolled with grilled chicken, and a dip made of mayonnaise and garlic, with French fries, such as mom would make, and Jordanian bananas. Bananas are so much better when eaten in the country they are grown in.
Okay you already know the scene. You've seen it in many movies. Picture a desert. Incredibly hot. Man, dragging his feet, slowly slowly slowly. He goes to his knees. And drops. And dies.
I will never watch that movie again without thinking about today.
I am proud of myself today though. I lived the gospel proclaimed today. I really don’t want to say anymore about that.
Rode a donkey, haggled with Bedouins, saw the Prime Minister of Finland. All in one day. Whew.
As I write this, Gary is climbing the mountain to the monastery (NO not a real monastery) Just a rock formation they call the monastery. It’s bloody hot, like 90 something out there, and he’s climing up a bloody mountain.
At this note. I’m signing off. I want a shower, and a gin and tonic, not necessarily in that order.
More about Petra later. When I get Gary’s story. Love to you my friends, my computer.
Blessings in the name of Our Lord, in the Land of Moses.
Marla
Mystery in the Sands of Time – Petra
Yesterday was such an emotional experience, words were really impossible.
Imagine yourself surrounded by sandstone mountains. Two mountain ranges touching each other as two hands in prayer, leaving just a thin space between the palms to allow for just a cart or a horse or a few people’s width for kilometers. Light rarely touches the siq’s floor, and when it does, it explodes in a golden light only to be swallowed by the next turn. As you walk through this narrow gorge, small clues indicate something very special is ahead. A crypt carved into the wall here, a large carving of a camel there. As you walk you hear the yell of the cart drivers, “Make way, Beep Beep” as the carts, driven by Arabian horses wildly careen down the rough stone floor. There are no modern springs on the cart and the passengers bounce and bob like flotsam on an angry sea.
The beautiful Arabian horses are so expertly ridden by the caretakers. They spin, and dance, and gallop at full speed, even in the 100 F heat. They throw their heads up in spirited energetic emotion as they dance with their riders. And then, regrettably, at a tourists beck and call, they plod along the stone floor, with a rein held by their previous rider. So they dance, stroll, dance stroll.
We are nearing this magical place. Our leader calls us to stop some 200 steps before the entrance into the city. We line up, and he asks us to trust him. Close your eyes, and I will guide you into the city. Do not open them until I say to.
I comply, mostly because I really want to experience this. It’s hard to hold on to the shoulder of the person in front of you, people pushing behind you, people stopping or staggering along the siq floor.
Suddenly the eyes can open, and a wonder appears before us. A rose city, carved into the sandstone, literally bathed in light.
As most things on this trip have proven, this is really impossible to experience by reading these words. You must smell the dust, the smell of the horses, the carts, the bodies sweating around you. You must feel the occasional cool breeze that brings respite. You must hear the different languages and imagine what it must have been like thousands of years ago, when this was an important trade city.
It all becomes real to you when it is your senses experiencing it. And it is my sincere prayer, that you reader, have this opportunity.
Of course the treasury is not really a treasury. It is a temple. The gods of the Nabotians resemble the gods of the Greeks and Romans. Very politically correct for their time these people. Very accommodating to the several cultures that traded here.
Beautiful Bedouin jewellery can be found here, and deals can be made. One must be pleasant, charming, but firm.
There are several people trying desperately to sell one thing or another to us. Only $1 dollar lady, $1 dollar. (Which by the way changes to $40 or $50 when it is in your hand. There is nothing more challenging than trying to be reasonable. But that is not the problem of the people selling, it is my problem. I am simply not quite used to their culture. As I become accustomed to it, and remember that this is a century or even millennium old culture of bartering, selling, huckstering, I am much more understanding. These lovely people would be a fish out of water in a Skytrain Station, or in a Vancouver downtown office. And they would hate it.
MY DESIRE VERSUS GOD’S WILL
The above statement sounds so holy. But believe me, my intentions were not holy, they were selfish.
I wanted to ride a camel. I love the spirited Arabians, and wanted to ride them too. I had that opportunity and I had the money. Gary had decided to take an adventure of his own and attempt the most difficult climb in Petra, and off he went, with my prayers that he would come back to me, in one piece.
Suddenly though, I saw a couple of our tour members in trouble. They were somewhat older than I, and the heat was really getting to them. They were disoriented and just wanted to get back to the bus. I remembered how I felt in Egypt the week before and wanted to help them. I forgot about the camel and saw the donkeys.
At home I am God’s donkey.
The nature of a donkey is not a humble thing. I am stubborn, and without leadership will stay still and be lazy. It’s much more reasonable to me. But if God is leading me, I can do no more than to be a donkey, and take people to church, lead them in RCIA to Jesus. I’m not trying to blow my horn here, I’m blowing Jesus’s horn. If Jesus can get a lazy donkey like me to follow him, then any kind of miracle can happen.
I saw the donkeys and knew God wanted me to ditch the camel ride and help these ladies.
They certainly did not want to get on a donkey. They wanted a cart. However, there were no carts where we were. We were around a kilometer from the carts. They were having trouble walking. They needed the assistance of a donkey. We negotiated with the donkey driver for three donkeys and after much intrepidation, the ladies were on the donkeys. They were so nervous at first, but after a while, they were laughing. I reminded them that Mary rode on a donkey. One of them said, “Well, Mary was a lot younger than we are!”
After they dismounted they were so happy. And a little while later, it was looking good. They got a cart and were off to the bus.
Another person in our group wanted to do the walk back, around 2 k or so, a reasonably steep incline, maybe 20 degrees or so. I knew she wasn’t that healthy, so I decided to walk with her. Maybe I could get a horse later.
We walked and walked and walked. We tried to negotiate a horse ride, but it was expensive, she thought, so we walked further.
Exhaustion got the best of her. She couldn’t go on much more. Suddenly an Arab on a white horse rode up. Yes. That was what happened. So knowing she was in trouble I told her to go. I would be okay.
The rest of the walk was my own personal via dolorosa. It was hard. I was dizzy, hurting and stumbling. But I made it. Too late for the bus though. So I took a cab back.
In the end I was really happy. I really understood God’s will, and not my desire. In the end I was much happier doing His will than riding a silly camel. Another time…
And my in –shape husband did the big walk and was back at 4pm.
_______
Up the next day at 5:30am
The Allenby Bridge. The Jericho Walls, the sycamore tree, the Church of the Good Shepherd, the goat herders, the shepherds, and Bedouins. There is so much to write about. But I have to let this day settle on my mind before I write any more.
Blessings in the name of all that is Good.
Jerusalem lies ahead, and I must sleep, because tomorrow is a huge huge day.
I just have to say one thing before I go.
Tonight’s dinner was beautiful.
No comments:
Post a Comment