Friday, November 27, 2009

THANKSGIVING BOXED DINNER


    OUR HOTEL NEAR TABA ON THE RED SEA

It was the eve before Thanksgiving, 2005. As we boarded the bus at our hotel near Taba, set on the shores of the Red Sea, and pulled into the black ink night, my thoughts swam through the surrounding darkness to my children at home in Idaho. I thought how they would be preparing for the next day’s feast. Sadly, I envied them just a little. Under my seat, a small box was tightly tucked that held my dinner for the next day. At the time, I did not consider it would be my Thanksgiving Dinner. I had forgotten in the excitement of the next adventure of our Holy Land trip. Our bus was taking us into the blackness of the Sinai desert, blackness akin to the khimar the Muslim woman wear as they quietly and mysteriously glide through the streets of Cairo, Jerusalem, and Amman. Our destination was Mt. Sinai and the climb to its summit for a view of the desert sunrise. 

As our bus hummed through the thickness of the night, the lights from Aqaba and small towns along the coastline of Saudi Arabia sparkled like amber jewels. Gradually they disappeared. Only the stars and their consequent constellations remained. They seemed to suck us up into an eternal black hole. Gradually, we succumbed to the lateness of the night and fell asleep with the gentle rocking motion of the bus.


Our slumber was short-lived. We had arrived at St. Catherine’s Monastery at the base of what traditionally is Mt. Sinai. It was 2 am and we sleepily stumbled our way to what was humorously referred to as “Camelot,” as it was the station where we were to mount our camels for half of the assent to the mountain’s top, truly an unforgettable experience. I did not say pleasant. I just said “unforgettable.” We were assigned a camel with its accompanying “camel boy.”  We mounted the camel with some difficulty and were maneuvered out into the heaviness of the moonless night. The camels lumbered up the rather steep trail passing Bedouins attempting to collect a dollar or two for anything they could sell, from the resident rocks to American candy and sodas. I pondered the scriptural exodus story of the Israelites and where their encampment might have been in the valleys below us, as well as how Lehi’s family probably felt as they left Jerusalem, never to return to their homes. The feelings were intense and moving as the camels made their way along a well-worn rocky trail.
 


    CLIMBING MT. SINAI

Finally, after two and a half hours of an excruciating rocking on a saddle far too small, between two saddle horns, one stabbing sharply in the spine, and the other in the front, of which I will not describe or discuss, we arrived at the camel-dismounting station. It was the end of one of those “life sucks” moments. There was no death, however. The air was filled with what I referred to as “camel dung dust.” The assent, I quickly learned had only begun. The remainder was mandated to our feet that oddly enough had been stricken with numbness from the camel ride. With flashlights in hand, we began the grueling two-hour climb for what seemed like miles of switchbacks. We helped each other along the steep and demanding trail, climbing over boulders while attempting to keep our equilibrium in the darkness. Finally, we arrived at the peak of Mt. Sinai, along with 500 other curious tourists, and pilgrimage-seeking people of all nationalities. Oddly enough, we were the only Americans, and all were pushing to the edge of the rocky face vying for the prime photographer’s position. We waited. Gradually the luminescence of the dawn slowly chased the blackness of the night away to expose the low-lying fog softly blanketing layers of violet, blue and purple mountain ranges before us. Finally, the sun pierced the dawn sending a needle-like sliver of yellow across the horizon. 

 
     SUNRISE AT THE TOP OF MT. SINAI

At that point, the orange sun moved quickly upward splitting the single yellow sliver into multiple orange-red spikes of brilliant light. Breathtaking! It played a game of tag with the shadows among the desolate mountain peaks and crevices, chasing them and recreating our view from moment to moment. It was the reward for the extremely arduous and exhausting trek up what now was exposed as a rocky desolation that still held a breathless beauty in its grip. At that moment, it seemed like the pinnacle of events we had already experienced on our journey through the Holy Lands of Israel, Jordon and Egypt.
 
     MT. SINAI AS SUN MOVES SLOWLY DOWN THE RUGGED CANYONS

  
Our descent down the mountain was much faster, even though we were dependent only on our feet to do so.  We arrived at St. Catherine’s in good time, made our way through the various booths of vendors to our awaiting bus. It felt good to sit…on something other than a camel. Others in the bus were pulling out their boxed lunch and making comments on the dryness of the bread and cheese sandwiches. Someone noticed a young Arab boy standing outside of the bus longingly eyeing the Americans.  One of the men on board stepped outside and offered this young boy what was left of the boxed lunch we had all be complaining about. Eagerly, he grabbed it. Immediately, all of us in the bus began gathering up what we had thought was unacceptable food, and delivered it to this, what appeared as a starving little Arab. We watched as he hid his treasure, hording over it so that others boys would not find it. In our minds, we all wrote the ending to this experience. We had hoped that the little one had taken his treasure home to others who were hungry. I thought to myself that it was much like Thanksgivings across my country where people share with others the bounties of the earth. Perhaps this Arab boy was living a very real “life sucks and then you die” life, while I had plenty, even without my boxed lunch. Now, it became a very memorable Thanksgiving Dinner for someone else.
                                                                                                                                                         


      ARAB BOY RECEIVING BOXED LUNCHES FROM ONE OF OUR GROUP

                                                                          

                                                                                                                               

3 comments:

  1. Your story was wonderful and reminded me of when we I was at the plaza in Lima, Peru. After touring the capital building we were all very hungry and stopped at a pizza restaurant for some quick grub. As we were leaving with our left overs, we noticed a young boy sitting with his younger brother looking for any help. It was interesting to watch the various people walking pass them without evening taking notice they were their. My little sister then walked over to them and gave her the rest of her pizza slices and it was amazing to then see the people walking pass take notice and follow pursuit in donating coins or food to them. It’s truly amazing what one action can lead other people to do. Thanksgiving truly helps me remember that I am entitled to nothing in this life and have everything to be grateful for.

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  2. I still love that story!! We missed you that year!

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  3. I didn't miss your dry cheese sandwiches, but I did miss you. :( Still want to see Sinai--even if you don't want to do that again.

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