Twilight Zone
I spent Sunday November 15th walking through one of the most cosmopolitan cities in the world, New York City.
I had this strange desire to spend some time at ground zero, a location that I last visited in January 2001. At that time the giant twin towers that rose above all other buildings in the busy city awed me. Those busy ground floor rotating doors that allowed thousands of people to enter and exit must have had their bearings changed weekly in order to operate properly. My son and I counted 100 people entering and walking through in less than one minute.
We all know what happened later on that year. We all cried for those who died on the airplanes and in the buildings.
I went back to New York in February of 2007 and was in the Manhattan area but did my best to avoid The World Trade Center.
I do not know why I wanted, needed to go.
Was it to pay respect to the firemen who gave their lives in a valiant effort to save others?
Was it to pray for the souls of those who died?
Was it mere curiosity, to see the progress?
The filling of the enormous crater left behind by the downed buildings seems nearly complete. The skeleton of “Freedom Tower” was rising out of the ground, already several floors high. My spirits soared as I walked around the foundation of the new tower and the area where the National September 11 Memorial will be constructed, I could only smile at the progress.
I spent several hours walking around the area. I entered surrounding buildings in search for better vantage points from which to see the progress from higher grounds. I walked towards Battery Park to see children frolicking to the rhythms of music playing nearby. I saw the sun setting over this vibrant city. Life seemed to be good.
I left Battery Park and walked towards Ladder Company 10. Once there I was standing with a crowd of people waiting to be photographed in front of the house of the First responders. Maybe some of the fireman that now resided in this building would come out just to say hello?
As I waited in hope, I looked to the east and saw the suns waning rays reflecting against the new Bank of America Tower. The bright recently finished glassed building was just a glimmer of hope, for better things to arise from the ashes of what was once a symbol of not only New York City, but also of The United States. As the sun set I decided to head back to the airport.
At 11:00 pm I boarded a beautiful 777 Boeing that would take me on a long planned trip to The Middle East. What I did not know is that I had entered not an aircraft but: The Twilight Zone!
As soon as the door to the airplane closed I took a Tylenol P.M. and instructed the flight attendant not to disturb me. I reclined my chair and fell asleep before the meals were served. I woke up several hours later and was pleased to find out that there were only five hours left of the thirteen hour flight.
I arrived in Cairo at 4:00 pm Monday. The doors to my time machine were opened revealing an antiquated aerodome. The crowd of passengers filed out behind me. We entered a people mover that looked like it had last been cleaned before its delivery to the airport sometime back in 1970.
A short ride later the bus delivered us to the terminal, where as in every other country unsmiling agents were already attending passengers from earlier flights, smudging their passports with worn down rubber stamps. Yes, as always it seems, the aviation geniuses try to land as many airplanes near the same time as to not inconvenience their government employees. It is the visiting passenger that should be grateful and willing to wait in long lines for the honor of spending their time and money in this case the exciting land of Egypt.
Two hours later and way past sunset I am allowed to leave the airport with my travel guide and two other members of my soon to be tour group.
As we left the airport dust blew into my eyes. After I blinked, I was immpressed by the modern six lane, well lit highway that led us out of the airport.
For some reason I blinked, and in that one blink of the eye I traveled back in time. It was no longer 2009 – I was transported back to the late 1960’s.
Most of the vehicles looked old, dirty, wrecked and belched blue smoke. All of the trucks were overloaded - stuffed to the spilling point with chickens, constuction materials, livestock and people.
Our van was traveling in the middle of what should have been lane four of a six lane highway. But, as I counted the lanes of cars, I noticed that there were nine. The drivers were making their own lanes as they darted in and out of traffic, horns blaring and brake lights glowing. Much to my surprise a small Toyota pick up was passing us on the left traveling 8 to 10 miles per hour faster, then the driver was changing lanes to a clear spot in front of us. What impressed me was that the bed of the truck was filled with layers upon layers of eggs, not in cartons, but in open air containers. I could only imagine that this was not this drivers first voyage with this fragile cargo as he sped away changing lanes at every opening.
Our hotel was only 20 miles away from the airport. This translated into two hours.
We arrived at our hotel. One with a modern looking entrance. Before we were allowed into the lobby we had to send our luggage through an x ray machine, a new experience for me.
It actually gave me great comfort to know that I was spending a few nights in a well protected hotel. As it turned out this was normal practice in all of the Egyptian and Jordanian hotels where we would be staying.
The next morning I awoke to beautiful blue skies and the noise of 10 thousand, or more like 1 million, vehicles passing nearby. Soon enough along with a couple from my tour group who also arrived one day early, we were on our way with thousands of Cairo commuters to Mempis and Saqqara. Out of nowhere the three magnificent pyramids came into view just across the street from Cairo’s outer limits. It was amazing! As we were driving through the outskirts of the not so pretty city, seemingly out of nowhere, in all their ancient glory, stood the great Chufa’s Pyramid and Khafre's Pyramid. There was a third smaller Pyramid that was not visible. I did not care for my heart was pounding with excitement at the sight of Khufu or Cheops.
We drove right by without slowing down, even though my heart and soul stayed with the pyramids.
I have been to many countries (44) in my lifetime. I have seen extravagant palaces and historical monuments. Most of them impressed me. Memphis and the statue of Ramses did not. Saqqara did not either. The Egyptian Museum, the museum that held most of the oldest artifacts of ancient times, the showcase of antiquity was… one of the greatest disappointments of my life.
Once inside the museum the crowded unkempt artifacts were poorly displayed, poorly lit and the glass that seperated the artifacts from the tourists was dusty, smudged with who knows what, making viewing difficult to say the least. With over 10 thousand visitors a day you would think that the entire museum from the front gates to the deepest corners would be immaculate. But… they were not. I decided that the curators kept the place dark and dirty to discourage the viewers from lingering.
After staying in Egypt for five days, I realized it was not only the museums, but the whole country that was a big garbage dump. The water canals that fingered through the city and the countryside bringing water to farms and towns or villages outside of Cairo were filled with debris. Plastic of every form floated above and who knows what filled the waters below.
A country that depended so much on tourisim. A country that has so much unem-ployment and, therefore, available labor to clean not only the tourist attarctions but the entire country, should do a better job.
What the heck… Oh yea, I was talking about my long awaited trip to the Greta pyramids. The dream of my childhood. Eventhough we could see the pyramids two or three times a day during our stay in The Cairo area, it took several days of touring Cairo until we finally made it. Despite their crumbling stages, it was worth the wait as the view up close and personal was more then I anticpated. The size of the stones that were used to create the structures is awesome. The new learned information that the foundation of the pyramids were dug by hand down to rockbed, and that this excavation could have gone on for years before they were able to place the first stone, awed me.
To see what was left of the smooth façade at the top of Cheops, the limestone surfacing that once covered the entire pyramid allowed my vivid imagination to realize how magnificent these structures must have been. For this I came to Egypt. I got my money’s worth.
But there was more. The Sphinx, just a few meters away from the pyramids, was more amazing in person as I walked around this monument carved from one piece of stone.
The different stratas are visible, giving a slight change of color but, also allowing uneven erosion, as some layers are softer then others. The erosion makes the structure more amazing since it shows its age: FOUR THOUSAND YEARS OLD!!!
I could now leave Egypt in search of cleaner air, landscapes and historical sites.
Egypt was not ready for me to leave. It wanted to impress me.
And it did. It took another ten more sites to visit before I was truly impressed.
Around 1:00 am on some cold dark morning (I cannot remember the day.) we boarded a bus for a short ride to the base of Mt. Sinai. Our guide was nowhere on the bus or in the lobby even though he told us to be on time.
I started to get nervous. We were told that the ascent would take approximatey three and a half hours. The reason for this climb was to witness one of the most amazing sunrises in the world…and I love a beautiful sunrise.
Our guide arrived almost an hour late. This meant that we did not make it to the base camp until 2:30. If we hurried that meant we could get to the mountaintop about 5:30 am. Sunrise was to be between 5:45 and 5:50. We might be able to make it. If we left immediately.
But, we were detained because some on our tour decided they wanted to go up by camel.
We waited till arrangments could be made before we were told that we could start.
“Stay as a group!” Was our guide’s last words before he headed back to the bus.
There were three of us who started to walk at a quick, even pace. Andrew a young guy in his early forties, a much younger lady, Mary Ann, in her mid-twenties, and myself - the old guy in the group at fifty-five.
Andrew took the lead since he had the most powerful flashlight. Mary Ann followed Andrew since her flashlight was not as bright and would help illuminate the area immediately around our feet. I had decided not to buy a flashlight and would use my super powerful iPhone App Flashlight if needed.
For safety reasons I wanted Mary Ann in the middle. I was afraid that she would be too tired to speak-up, and that Andrew and I would have to go back down and find her if she lagged behind…and, that if we did find her, she would either be stomped to a pulp by the camels that we were quickly passing or by the hundreds of other climbers that would not notice the frail young lady as she quickly became another pile of cattle dung.
We were all amazed at each others’ stamina as we passed people as if they were standing still. And then, of course, little miss athlete whimpered between breaths, “ Can we stop a while?”
Even though Andrew was ahead of me I could hear his eyes rolling and through mental telepathy heard him say, “Ok, now we get to stop every five minutes!”
After all we had been climbing for almost 90 minutes and we had passed hundreds of people. I was feeling a little short of breath as well. We stopped for about five minutes before Mary Ann anounced that she was ready to go. I was impressed.
Another ten minutes passed before Andrew’s flashlight gave out and we were still on semi-smooth trails. Mary Ann took the lead. Now ahead of the two older men, she took off. Was it fear of embarassment for slowing down our pace, or was it for fear that her flashlight would also lose power?
We made it without a second stop until we got to the first of the 900 steps for the final 1,500 feet of the almost 8,000 foot mountain. Then Mary Ann pleads, almost begs, “I have to stop guys. I feel dizzy. I might faint. Go on without me if you must.” Under the brightest star lit night I thought that I saw a glistening tear trickle down her cheek. Even though I wanted to leave her behind, I needed to continue on my quick ascent, I relented. I told Andrew that he could go on, but that being the gentleman that I was I would stay behind. I looked around for a chair… like rock or a place for her to sit down. I offered to get on my hands and knees so that she could sit on my back. Fortunatley she said no, but in a still soft voice:,“ I am not that tired.”
Andrew stayed with us as I knew he would, after all his flashlight was dead and even though the stars above were bright they did not have enough juice to light the way.
While we waited Mary Ann’s flashlight died. I am sure that if we would have continued walking we would have made it all the way with her light showing the way.
Luckly for the three of us I had my iPhone. I turned it on, and as the cub scout that I was, lead the way. I remembered the motto, “Be prepared!”
We made it to the top. Two, maybe three short stops along the way. To our surprise there were only ten people on top. We had passed hundreds on the way.
I congratulated Andrew and Mary Ann on our quick climb as we found out that it took us only two hours and fifteen minutes.
Now, all we had to do is wait for what we hoped was a spectacular sunrise. Sometime later the skies began to change from black to gray. A few of our group started to arrive. The sun was now creating a very thin line of orange just above the distant mountain tops. More people arrived, sweat rolling down their foreheads and cheeks. Mouths agape and tongues hanging out.
Almost in unison about five hundred people gasped as the edge of the sun rose into the brighting sky. The brown mountain tops began to change colors. These colors seemed to race from one mountaintop to another. The anticipation of the sun rays and the blast from the speed of light made you hold your breath. Below us, around us choirs began to sing. The moment was a blessed one. I would have bowed my head in prayer but, could not, for if I did I would miss one second or a minute of a truly magnificent moment in my life. Sunrise at Mt. Sinai standing next to one of the fittest young ladies from California.
Andrew did alright.
After the climb and the descent I do not remember much of the rest of the day. As a matter of fact, I do not remember much until we arrived to the Hilton Inn Resort in Aquaba, a small town on the coast of The Red Sea. Despite the tour guide’s objections, claiming that we did not have enough time for me to go swimming, I did.
I had anticpated this moment since 1990. I had paid for a scuba expedition to The Red Sea and was a week away from departure when Desert Storm interrupted my plans.
Also, in anticipation, I had my bathing suit underneath my pants and my swim goggles around my neck.
As I ran from the bus I began taking my shirt off. I heard a faint scream: “Mr. Roh…”
I kicked my left shoe off. My right shoe. I started to unbuckle my pants. They quickly dropped to my ankles. I stepped out of them. I stoped at the edge of the concrete pathway.
I bent down to take my socks off. I felt the cool air against my skin. I realized that my clothes may not be where I let them drop. I decided it did not matter, I could always get the driver to open the storage space and get more clothes. I looked towards my group, they were all entering the restaurant. “Fools!” I thought out loud. You can eat anywhere you can only swim in the Red Sea when you are at the RED SEA!
I got to the water’s edge. Clear as glass. I started to dip my toe to measure the temeprature when I realized that even if it were ice cold I was going in. I took off running and before the water got to my knees… I laughed out loud. The water was warm, maybe mid 70’s. Warmer then atmospheric temperature. Yeeeeeee haw! I dove in realizing that I could see underwater - I could see beyond what I wanted to see. What I wanted to see were the millions of fish that I had jumped in with. As I darted to catch them they easily swam away. I would turn to the left to find that they now shadowed my every move.
I could not stop smiling. It was the happiest that I had been in years. I could feel my body heat from the excitement. I swam for what I thought was an hour. I did not want to leave but I did not want a bus full of pissed off tourists growling at me because I held up the departure.
I planned on jumping in the pool to wash the salt from my body, I gathered my clothes as I retraced my steps. Everything was where I left them. I jumped in the pool and was shocked by the cold water.
As I got out of the pool I saw one of my tourmates leaving the restautant. “Are you the last one, is everyone on the bus?”
“No, it’s only been thirty minutes.”
I started to run back to the clear blue, fish filled waters. I stopped. I put a shirt on and ran into the restautrant and went from table to table expounding the beauty that I had swam in, the need for them to enjoy what I had.
One by one they trickled out. As they came near the water their lips grew sideways, cheeks reddened. Shoes came off. Now everyone came to see to touch the waters. But it was only me, Me, MEEEEEE who had swam with the fishes in the Red Sea.
Blah, blah we saw some more stuff, entered Jordan and arrived at our hotel where I ate dinner then quickly went back to my room, said a prayer of thanks for the beauty that I became apart of earlier in the day. And then I slept. It was the best sleep in some time and when I awoke I realized that eight hours had passed.
It was a good thing that I had slept so well. That morning we headed of to Petra….and boy was that spectacular! From the moment you enter the park you are in awe of the spectaular facades carved out of solid granite. When you think that you saw all there is to see you move around another bend and see something more spectacular. We entered the Siq, a narrow water-eroded path that leads you through a narrow passage coming out onto a small plaza in front of The Treasury. Here you stand still just as time has for thousands of years. Your feet stick to the ground. Your mouth drops. Your eyes want to leave their sockets. And then you get pushed from behind by the hundreds of tourists that also want to look. So, you move away and look slightly left or right and you realize that there are more buildings in this valley that are as spectacular or more so than this famous “Indiana Jones” Building.
I could go on for ten pages, and by now most of you know that I can, the beauty of each individual carving and the lost city as a total, the enormity of the valley and the quality of structures are indescribable, so I will not dare.
The colours of the exterior rocks and the stratas seen inside the chiseled out tombs and dwellings reveal several million years of sediment compacting from centuries and centuries of pressure, making hundreds of rainbows of colors. Six hours later we left this wonderous location, truly one of The Most spectacular places that I have been to, and worth every penny of my entire cost for the whole trip. Definitely one of the Seven Modern Wonders of the World.
Once again we continued seeing one site after another, blah, blah, blah.
And then we got to The Dead Sea. It was so much fun to get in the water and read a book floating as easilly as if I were on a raft. Unlike Salt Lake in Utah that had a terrible smell similar to rotted eggs, the Dead Sea was warm and had no odor whatsoever. Once in the water, I swam away from shore for just a few minutes and with very little effort found myself about half a mile away. Making it back to the shore, I noticed all of the couples from my group were giving each other salt scrubs. Luckily, one of the wives offered to scrub my back. I was left with a smooth oily feeling that stayed on my skin for about three days.
Another great sleep and we were off to Masada, a one time beauty of a city built on top of a plateau overlooking the surounding Judean Desert. From this fortress the Jews fought off the Romans for several months, ending the battles when the generals decided that mothers should kill their babies, husbands their wives and then their comrades. The last one would kill himself. This would ensure dignity over slavery to the conquerors.
The last four days were spent in and around Jerusalem. Let me tell you the Old City of Jerusalem is truly a marvel in construction as well as a test for your sense of direction.
A tour of the tunnels below the city allows you to see how the walls have lasted so long.
Foundations were built on top of solid rock 40 or 50 feet below ground level. The stones that were used for erecting the walls and the dwellings are solid and should last several thousand years more.
We followed the Stations of The Cross, feeling the pain that Jesus must have as we traversed the city’s rough cobblestone ways and imagining the weight of the cross on our shoulders.
There are two locations that we visited that could have been burial sites for Jesus.
The Church of the Holy Sepulcher, which I do not believe is the burial site just from the majesty of the tomb and the Garden Tomb.
It is in the Garden Tomb that I felt an inner peace. Here among the gardens, the trees and the open air I felt a presence that I had not felt in a long time. Was it the beauty of the location, the fact that I received communion with my new friends?
All in all I enjoyed my vacation, the long awaited trip to Giza to see the Pyramids was a dream come true.
Swimming in the Red Sea was one of the happiest moments of my life.
Meeting new friends, all with a great sense of humor and a desire to travel, made this trip one that will be hard to beat.
As I boarded Delta’s 777 back to the US I realized that I was going from a time long past back into the future. My future.