Sinai

Crossing into Aqaba, Jordan yesterday, it was a rather low point into the trip. There have been amazing highs, high as 2800 meters above sea level on top of Mount Sinai, following Moses' steps over 2000 years ago. In the mid-afternoon sun, on a pleasantly cool day, we begin the climb up to the church on via two routes. Half of the group mount the steps of repentance, 3300 steps to the peak while the rest of us follow the camel trail, a 7km hike up followed by 700 steps to the peak.

Two hours later, I'm rewarded by the spectacular views of mount st. Katherine and Moses, a startling arid landscape that extends into the horizon. Driving through this desert earlier and on top of the peak, I'm semi-curious why anyone would even choose to live in this landscape, much less why Egypt and Israel fought bitterly over this piece of land. Along the drive, we pass through dozens of check points, all staffed with a egyptian soldier with a machine gun hanging out in front of his legs. If the soldiers are protecting this territory from another invasion from Israel, they would seem to need to revisit bootcamp a few more times.

I suppose if religion factored into more of my upbringing or if I could just believe, the entire experience would have made more of an impact. Certainly the next morning, when we solemnly proceed through the halls of St. Katherine's monastery, built by the Greeks around 300 A.D. and still with continued monks watching over the alter, the body of Saint Katherine and the burning bush that signaled the voice of God, I would have felt closer to a higher being. But as I turned the corners and looked around to the wispy willow-like bush, I am reminded the years of Catholic and Christian service I attended from age 12 to age 17 and always just wondering what my companions were endlessly discussing, not from incomprehension, but rather disbelief.

After the non-religious religious pilgrimage, we traversed more of the Mars-like desertscape east and end our Egypt journey at the red sea. Again, I'm reminded how ignorant and ill-prepared I am for this trip. The Red Sea is not red, not a single shade of red I could see in this body of water. Even snorkeling didn't endear me to find any red colors underneath the clear sparkling blue waters. It's not until I cross to Jordan that a guide enlightens us that the Red sea was originally named Reed Sea which just means Sea in Arabic. Well sea, sea was the water that carries so may pilgrims back and forth. Standing on the beaches of sawa camp, we can clearly view the mountains of Saudi Arabia. It is strange to be able to look across the water and see the richest country in the Arab world, so tantalizingly close for many Egyptians and others who serve as almost indentured workers there.

For the week I was in Egypt, I almost continually hoped to find the better, brighter side of the country. I certainly admired and revered the history, the ancient achievements and amazing heritage. Yet, I never found or heard the hope and desire in the current environment in the country. Writing to JC, I expressed how I was ready to move on to the next country. Her reply wildly amused me and expressed succinctly how I felt, especially on a hour walk through the heart of Islamic Cairo, "it looks as if it was carpet bombed and never recovered." In a way, someone recently told me I have high expectations of people. My hope for Egypt is for a renaissance, or at least a catch-up, that it'll recover some of the glory from the past. I didn't look back when the immigration officer scrutinized my visa, because he didn't know what a visa from Cairo airport looked like. I collected my stamp and stepped onto the ferry for Jordan.