Sand in the Wind

by Ruth Hay

  “You know, I think it’s a good thing we have perspired so much and been so active on this trip or else we would be unable to fit in our clothes by now.”

  “That’s true!” Anna observed. “I don’t know about you, but my waistline has actually shrunk by some inches. I may have to buy a new leather belt in that great little shop we saw last night.”

  “Now that is the worst excuse for spending money I have heard for some time!” laughed Alina. “But seriously, you should catch up with my spending. I am way ahead of you on that score so far.”

  “Don’t worry! The trip’s not over yet! There could be some special objects at the Luxor Museum later this afternoon.”

  “We’ll see! At least I won’t be tempted to buy more textiles there. I am warning you, Anna, no buying of stone artifacts is allowed. We would never get them home.”

  Relaxed laughter drew a waiter to their table.

  “Ladies, am I speaking with the party who are to meet Mr. Philip Purdy?”

  “Oh yes!” replied Anna. “That’s us.”

  “Would you be so kind as to inquire at the front desk where some mail awaits.”

  “I will do that at once, thank you!”

  Anna hoped no change to their plans had occurred while they were out of contact. She stopped by the desk on their way upstairs and sat on a leather sofa in the foyer to read the note aloud.

  Looking forward to meeting you tonight at your hotel.

  Delayed until 8:00pm unfortunately.

  Have a good day.

  Philip

  “Well, short and sweet describes that information!”

  “Do you want me to stay upstairs and leave you two to get re-acquainted on your own?”

  “Heavens no, Alina! I will need all the support I can get. Philip is not an easy conversationalist at the best of times and he is a working architect here, who is bound to be tired out at the end of a day. Please come with me.”

  “Whatever you wish, my dear. For now, let’s take care of some more mundane matters.

  The sun will be full on our balcony by this hour and I think we could dry some clothing there, if we are discreet about it.”

  “Excellent thinking! I need some choices for tonight and I am down to my last outfit at this point, I fear.”

  “Right then! Washing, photographs and a light lunch before we visit the town. That’s the order of the day!”

  “Yes! Oh trip guru! Let’s march ....... but slowly, please. I am awash in coffee!”

  A taxi to the Luxor Museum, in the late afternoon, was accomplished very easily. The desk manager called one of a line of taxis to the front of the hotel and a note of their time and destination was made at the front gate where a guard stood on duty with a clipboard.

  “Nice to know someone is aware of our movements,” stated Alina.

  The driver introduced himself as Hassan, asked where they came from, and invited them to come to his village for tea, which they politely declined. Hassan volunteered to be their driver for the rest of the day, if they wished, and only if they were entirely satisfied with his service, of course.

  He continued to talk rapidly, commenting favourably on Anna’s few words of Arabic, all the way into the main town so the women had no chance to look around them before they arrived at the entrance to the Luxor Museum.

  “Very fine place, very fine!” was Hassan’s verdict as they paid the reasonable fare in Egyptian pounds.

  “Hassan will wait for you, ladies?”

  Anna could not see where on the busy Corniche street he would park but she asked him to return for them in two hours, which seemed to be agreeable to him.

  Passing under tall palm trees, they approached a modern building with glass entrance doors but no other windows on the facade. As soon as they entered the doors, cooled air met them and a shop display of exquisite jewellery and well-crafted replica objects caught their attention.

  Admission was expensive, but the foretaste of what was to come, as supplied by the shop’s high standards, promised a visit that would be well worth the price.

  A sense of calm enfolded them. The lighting was subdued overall with concealed spotlights sending shafts of light down onto the exhibits. Each item was accorded space and emphasis, so that visitors could stand and stare, or read the information plaques without the sense of hurry that many museums instill with their noisy clatter of moving feet as a constant background.

  The atmosphere was hushed. It was obvious that the displays were of the highest quality and the few visitors spoke seldom, and in low tones, to maintain that atmosphere of reverence.

  Without consulting each other, Anna and Alina took different paths through the museum as their interest was piqued by exhibits.

  Anna was drawn to the gilded cow’s head with extended black horns in a glass case. It came from the tomb of Tutankhamun. She was reminded of the many images of Hathor they had seen so far.

  On the entrance level, were statues of pharaohs in polished granite of hues from pink to lightest grey. No chips or missing limbs here. These were the finest and best–preserved statues she had seen anywhere.

  A rubber-padded ramp led up to the second level and a statue of a seated Sobek with a pharaoh by his side. The crocodile head was detailed and Anna smiled, remembering all she had learned about his fearful worship in Kom Ombo.

  Funerary objects like coffins, jewels, amulets and tiny shabti servant figures were displayed, but it was the insight into daily life of ancient Egyptians that moved Anna the most.

  Scribes, always seated on the floor with knees drawn up supporting papyrus and pen, seemed to epitomize their duty as ears and hands intended to record silently and never to speak or divulge the contents.

  A beautifully-painted wooden carving of a man and woman smiling toward the visitor, but with arms and hands linked together, expressed human emotion in a way the more formal portraits of palace life could never do.

  Scenes of hunting and fishing in the Nile were common but Anna found one with dancing girls in skimpy costumes and cones on top of their long black hair. Were these headdresses or some religious symbols?

  Anna found a stone bench on the upper level and sat down, happy to rest and absorb the beauty around her. Nothing could be more different from the hot, dusty, exhausting temples she had explored on this tour. She sat silently, considering whether quality might be more important than quantity in life.

  She must have dozed off for a moment.

  Suddenly, Alina appeared by her side, shaking her shoulder and making signs that Anna should follow her at once. She was too dazed to protest and allowed Alina to lead her through another section of the museum and into a cafeteria where Alina began to speak hurriedly.

  “Anna! Something extraordinary just happened! I know you won’t believe it so I took a dozen pictures when he wasn’t looking. I can hardly believe it myself. It’s the most unlikely thing you could imagine. Here! Look for yourself!”

  Alina pushed her camera into Anna’s hands but she put it down on a table and grasped her friend’s hands firmly, saying, “What’s wrong? I have never seen you so agitated. Please calm down. Sit here and we’ll have a drink and you can tell me what happened.”

  Alina took a deep breath and apologized. “I am sorry, Anna. This isn’t the way to introduce this tricky subject. I was just shocked.”

  “Well, I am listening now. Sit here and I will bring us drinks and a snack. When we’ve had something to eat you can tell me what upset you so much.”

  By the time Anna returned with tall glasses of lemonade and a fruit plate, Alina was much calmer. She began by setting the scene.

  “I was reading the information about the reconstructed wall figures of Akhenaten’s era that had been assembled after they were found buried beneath a courtyard, when I saw a reflection in the glass just behind my shoulder. I moved over to let the man read and just glanced at him in passing. I thought there was something familiar but I couldn’t place him at first so I stood back and watched for
a minute. He bent down to read, then he turned so that the light shone right on his face.” She hesitated before going on.

  “Anna, it was Richard!”

  “Richard? Richard who? Wait! You don’t mean that Richard? My ex-husband? Richard Mason? You are joking and it’s not at all funny, Alina. I am surprised at you!”

  “You see, that’s what I thought your reaction would be and that’s why I took the pictures.

  Go on, check them out for yourself.”

  Anna shook her head in disbelief at this turn of events but she picked up the camera and flipped the switch to see the most recent photographs Alina had taken.

  She chuckled out loud at the first three which were out of focus and obviously taken quickly, but the next two showed a man’s face in profile. Could it be her ex-husband? It had been years since she had seen him but it was impossible to imagine him here in Egypt. Impossible.

  The man may have had some slight resemblance to Richard but that was all.

  She dismissed the whole idea immediately and handed the camera back to Alina.

  “Look, the lighting is dim in here and I don’t blame you for jumping to conclusions. It couldn’t be him, of course. Just forget about it. Egypt is beginning to affect us both and we haven’t even been to the Valley of the Kings’ tombs yet. Let’s walk along the Corniche for a few minutes. I think I saw a row of shops nearby. We’ll return here in time to get a ride back with Hassan.”

  Alina was still convinced she had seen Richard but she did not want to contradict Anna’s logic.

  They finished their snack before exiting the museum and their conversation turned to the safe topic of the superlative exhibits they had seen.

  But Alina was still thinking about the pictures in her camera.

  And Anna was wondering how it was that her past and her present were colliding in this most unlikely location in all the world. Nigel, Philip, and now the ghost of Richard had appeared.

  What mystical influences did this ancient land bring to bear on its visitors?

  She tossed a scarf around her shoulders and walked briskly along the sidewalk with a silent Alina in tow. Retail therapy was what she needed to clear her head of these fantasies. It was time to spend some money.

  Chapter Twenty

  By eight o’clock the two women were showered, and changed into clean fresh clothes.

  They were seated in the front foyer of the hotel. Anna was nervous. She had not met with Philip since their brief encounter in Scotland, a year ago, at Bev and Alan’s wedding.

  A tall man in dusty work clothes, with a shock of white hair and a deep tan entered the open area in a quick stride and scanned the groupings of sofas and chairs until he set eyes on Anna.

  “There you are! I am sorry to be so late but work problems intervened. Have you eaten?

  Have you both had an enjoyable day?”

  Anna did not know where to begin to answer so she stood and presented Alina to Philip in a formal way. The two shook hands, then Anna suggested they should move to the pleasant outside seating area she had spied to the right of the foyer. She led the way and settled at a low table with four very comfortable cushioned chairs covered in the hotel’s signature cream cotton that was replaced each day. Philip dusted off the seat of his pants and apologized for not having time to change his clothes.

  A waiter approached as soon as they sat down and Philip ordered drinks and tea.

  Until their order arrived they discussed the view of passing Nile ships strung with lights, which they could glimpse through a variety of trees near the terrace.

  Philip inquired about their VJV tour and the women soon regaled him with the glories they had seen, including the Luxor Museum. Philip expressed some knowledge about the site so Alina asked politely why the Akhenaton panels had been in such a poor condition.

  Philip was happy to explain briefly.

  “He was the heretic pharaoh who tried to abolish the worship of Egypt’s many gods in favour of the one god, Ra. Once he died, many of the works of his reign were obliterated and Egypt returned to the old ways again. The museum has a statue of him, if I remember rightly. You would know it by the strange elongated shape of his head and body. He had an unusual disease, Marfat Syndrome, so the medical experts say.”

  “So, you are interested in archaeology as well as architecture, Philip?”

  “It can’t be avoided when you have spent as much time here as I have.”

  “How is the building project going?”

  Philip shifted uncomfortably in his seat as he replied to Alina in a weary voice. “Not as well as I had hoped. Our company planned a green building with new technologies incorporated to provide energy from solar panels. It was to be an example for the local firms and a school for their future workers.”

  “But that’s excellent!” interrupted Alina. “This is exactly the right place to make use of free sunlight, I would think.”

  “Of course it is, but there are problems. The materials have to be imported, the labourers are inexperienced, causing breakages, and the work day is short. Everyone downs tools during the mid-day heat. Nigel and I are working from early morning until late in the evening solving constructions problems and planning the next steps with our suppliers.”

  “You must be exhausted!” Anna blurted out. “Please don’t let our presence here distract you. We are quite able to be independent by this point.”

  “I did not mean to suggest you are unwelcome, Anna. It’s just a busy time.”

  He hesitated as if recalling another contentious issue.

  “By the way I have made an appointment for dinner for all of us. I hope you can attend as it is the suggestion of the government minister who is responsible for your special visas.”

  “Oh, we will certainly wish to thank that gentleman most sincerely. We have had wonderful treatment and accommodations on our trip. Far above the level of our ticket price, I am sure.”

  “Good to hear. The Canadian embassy representative is a woman and she stays here in Luxor for part of the winter every year with her husband. She has invited us to dinner at The Winter Palace, an old, respected hotel in Luxor, on Sunday evening.”

  Anna and Alina exchanged delighted looks and Alina jumped into the conversation. “Will Nigel be attending? We met him briefly in Aswan. Did he tell you?”

  Philip breathed a sigh. “Indeed. Nigel tells me many things, many times a day. He must have mentioned it but I screen out much of his constant chatter, I’m afraid.”

  “We thought he was charming,” announced Alina with an edge to her voice that Philip missed completely.

  “Hmm! He is a good draughtsman, certainly, and he is a useful computer expert but this is his first venture in Egypt with the company. There’s a lot to learn.”

  Anna decided to change the subject before Alina came rushing to defend Nigel.

  “What architectural style is your new hotel, Philip? The Sheraton seems like a very happy blend of traditional and modern styles.”

  “Agreed.” was his response. “They do have plumbing problems, however, because the infra structure is inadequate for the size of the place. You can’t just add capacity above ground without ensuring the electrical and plumbing sub systems are in place.”

  That did not sound too reassuring so Anna tried again.

  “What is your own favourite architectural style?”

  This topic was much more to Philip’s taste and he happily informed them about his personal affection for the Arts and Crafts movement of the 19th century and, also, the 2009 award given to his OPT Architects firm for Manchester’s Small Hotel of the Year which incorporated green technology and a rooftop garden. He was apparently involved in the re-vitalization of Manchester’s warehouse area and mentioned a string of names that meant nothing to his listeners.

  Anna could see Alina’s eyes glazing over. As soon as Philip drew breath she insisted that they had kept him far too long and although they were grateful for his time, he must not tire himself out.
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br />   Philip did not notice any irony in this statement and took his leave almost immediately.

  “Well, he’s hard work, isn’t he?” remarked Alina, after they were again alone on the terrace.

  “Oh, I didn’t mean to disparage your brother, Anna, but you must admit........”

  “Don’t apologize! I am aware of his difficulties. Fortunately we won’t have to carry the conversation the next time we meet. The dinner should be an interesting occasion.”

  Alina agreed, and their talk became more relaxed as they contemplated the Nile view once again and reviewed the next day’s itinerary.

  “I believe tomorrow is our last day with the Jules Verne group,” said Anna. “We have a big day in the Valleys of the Kings and Queens. Another early start, of course. Let’s head upstairs and get our clothes out for the morning.”

  “Suits me.” replied Alina with a stifled yawn. I can’t wait to sink into that comfy bed.

  * * *

  VALLEY OF THE KINGS/QUEENS. LUXOR (THEBES.) WEST BANK.

  What a day it has been! I am finally able to lift my pen and write after a delightful swim in the Sheraton’s outdoor pool and a snack of delicious pita bread, fresh and hot from the hands of a local woman who bakes them in a clay oven, in the hotel grounds. The oven looks just like an igloo! She works for the hotel kitchens and will give you a few pita for a small payment. They never tasted this good in London!

  We set off early, as usual, and crossed the Nile by the public ferry accompanied by workers, black-clad women (I wish I could talk to them), men with beautiful, patterned shawls draped around their necks against the morning chill, and farmers with goats on rope halters. Alina and I managed to find benches to sit on but many people stood for the short trip.

  A tour bus waited for us on the west bank and we rode past the seated Colossi of Memnon statues and saw a little village on the opposite side of the road with washing lines and children running everywhere waving at the bus and smiling those wide smiles.