Its a little hard for me to grasp. The rifle thing…. Even the tourist police carry 9mm hand guns and automatic rifles. They wear white uniforms and very few speak an other language other than Arabic. They try to be helpful yet I think they’re presence is more a benefit to tourists than to do much more.

Driving along the route to Aswan there were many check points where we stopped and the taxi driver was asked what? Where? Why? The police were friendly. Still carrying large guns. It probably had more to do with to women tourists traveling alone. Its still hard to get used to seeing even if it is for my safety.

Some time later….

The train ride is twelve hours if it runs on time. Its a jerky bumpy ride. The train pulls past canals and the back side of villages and towns. From the window I see extremes…. Donkey carts… Piles of trash… Lush fields… Mud brick buildings with date palm leaf rooves…. New construction… Unfinisheded construction… Cows… Shaggy goats…. Women carrying pots and bags on their heads…. Men pushing cars…. Small boats floating in the canals… An endless stream of pictures framed in the window. I sit and take in this documentary as my train moves along toward Giza.

Nothing/Everything is neither created or destroyed

Dust is the great equalizer. Nothing can contain it, everything is dressed with it, nothing can over come it…

Today the curbs seemed like dust pans collecting the bits and pieces of each day. But instead of throwing out the pile at the end of the day it sits there for everyone to see.

Its all weighed the same….

Ancient pyramids=Piles of dust.

Starting to miss home…..

Water is everything here. The Nile is the source. From every high vantage point I could see the green that comes when water is present. Bananas, dates, corn, sugar cane, and sesame, are just a few of the crops here.

We are staying at hotel Habou. Its a bit rustic. A bit run down. Very cheap and across the street stands the temple Habou. The road that runs between the hotel and the temple is being excavated. They found some ruins when they were creating a drainage ditch. There is a German group overseeing the project. The road for several hundred feet is trenched exposing a series of what look like small dwellings. Labors come and with recycled car tire buckets and shovels slowly move the soil from inside the trench to a huge long pile running long the trench. Watching the operation with complete boardom is truck load of Antiqities police.

I’m giving a small lecture this morning and will present just the practical applications.

While sitting in the open central square of a mosque one evening watching the central dome go from sillouette to a warm orange color. I noticed how the energy in this set of prayers felt feminine. It was warm,opening and asking the person to be one with a greater source. It is a call to go inside and find stillness in tne maniacal pace of the day to remember who we are. The word that came to mind was “surrender”. Dalia told me later that “Islam” means “surrender”.

It was another day at the museum. I was able to focus on a few pieces and had more time in the Tutankhaman exhibit with out a mob of tourists.

I decided to take the subway back to Dalia’s place in Giza. Kind of as a challenge to myself. I wanted to see how I was at navigating and communicating in a place where my grasp of the language is limited. I even left this morning without the written address in Arabic.

The subway has cars designated for women. I got on one and realized I was a curiousity to them. First my head was not scarfed, second I look kind of masculine except for my long braid. The eye game began… I would gaze about and find several women looking at me then quickly look away. Most of them were on there way home from work or shopping.

I got off what I thought was the right stop. It wasn’t. Walked around a bit to see if anything looked famillar. I stood next to a donkey cart full of carrots. There were alot of men walking about shouting. Dust rose from passing cars… It didn’t…. Went back into tbe subway station. To see if the police officer could offer some help. He’d didn’t speak much english… Although he did ask me what I was doing there. I finally said I needed to get over towards the pyramids. He said something I didn’t understand. I walked back out side and Cairo cab was sitting there. I didn’t have the address so told him a cafe name not far from Dalia’s. He knew where the cafe was and took me to it. From there I walked the rest of tne way.