I believe that she sacrificed herself for the wonderful days, or rather the evenings with good food in good hotels.
She was honestly convinced that she would never experience it again in her whole life ever again. Also that I had not urged her to go to bed with me till then. This was probably the ‘Thank you’ for me.
She thanked me this night several times.
I had stopped counting. In the morning I was awakened tenderly because she wanted to thank me once again. And I had to answer her! So I mobilized all my forces that remained in me and showed her that I too could be a grateful man.
Only around noon we were ready to release the room for the room-maids. On the same day I went back to Sharm and Evelyn left for her three-star hotel to take care of the Bible-tourists and to drive with them via Sinai to Israel.
I had no idea whether I would see Evelyn ever again. She also could give me only the address of her home and work. We wanted to allow ourselves to be surprised if fate would bring us together again. In Cairo Hannes, the rat told me that a job had become vacant in a big five-star hotel and he would explore if I could possibly take up this post. Hannes made this job position sound so attractive, that I agreed and resigned from the Hilton, in Sharm.
My Director was not impressed but he said that a city hotel has a completely different mode of operation, which I certainly see for myself once. He thought it would not hurt me to also get to know the difference between a tourist resort and a city hotel. But he was sure that I would not like Cairo so much. According to him, the competition was very tough and people were also not squeamish about fighting with their elbows. Moreover, it was such a big hotel with so much more work and more responsibility.
But I wanted to know if I too could master such a task. Here in Sharm el-Sheikh we had almost 150 rooms, that is to say, chalets but a hotel with almost 600 rooms awaited me in Cairo.
I would be able to experience this in a month. But emotionally I prepared myself for the change. I was sitting at the beach bar of the Ghazalla Hotel with some friends and we ordered a few drinks. Someone was in a generous mood once again and the champagne arrived at the bar. Not that I made much of it. I preferred beer more than the flavored bubbly water.
Two German tourists sat next to me.
Since I was always the one to make advances, I tried to flirt with them here too. I spoke to both of them and asked them if they wanted to drink a glass of champagne with us. They did, but there weren’t any more glasses. But why did we need glasses when we had shoes? I picked up a shoe, which the person next to me had removed for the sake of comfort. The two of them must have just arrived since they were not yet wearing the correct beach outfit. That is they had their street shoes, which they had removed halfway and still did not have any sandals. So I bent down, grabbed the shoe, poured the champagne into it and passed on the half-filled shoe to my neighbor.
She took it, tipped the expensive contents into the sand and severely reprimanded me!
What was I thinking of doing by messing up her new shoe like that!
The objection that the champagne here in the desert was more expensive than her shoes, did not convince her.
Now she also rapped with her empty but wet shoe on my head.
The devil! What kind of a woman was this, I thought and ran for cover.
But after the general laughter she calmed down and we talked with one another like two civilized people. Only much later, the "enlightenment” came and I became aware what a treasure I had there. In the meantime, a waiter brought two more glasses and a new bottle.
Thus I got to know that the two of them had arrived only two hours back, that they were staying at the Ghazalla, they were from Munich and were planning a diving holiday. So gradually we got closer to one another; we forgot the previous small dispute and the girls were more accessible.
I was immediately impressed by the blond woman with long legs. Although she had not fully forgiven me for the shoe attack, she was quite nice and she was pretty as well! Something about her seemed familiar to me - I could not get rid of that feeling that I had seen her somewhere before.
But she could not remember ever having encountered me before. Her name was Renate and her girlfriend's name was Conny, probably Cornelia but this was not so important, because I didn't have any plans with her.
But it “clicked” with Renate for me somehow and I developed a great interest for her.
But she was a bit somewhat reserved and I had to be very careful with my words. She was of the opinion that I was a windbag and that she would not fall for my “charms”, she said this with her Bavarian dialect. Perhaps she was right. But I planned to convince her otherwise. I promised her to be a good boy also want to prove that to her, if she would give me the chance to do so.
I invited her for dinner, to emphasize this. If this was fine with her and if she wished to accept my invitation, she could also decide on another day and time for this. She hesitated for a while. Then she said that she would come to the Hilton the next day for dinner.
A person known to me earlier became my new life partner.
She came and I sat down next to her in the restaurant. Now she knew that I was the chef at the hotel. She liked the hotel and also the food. I needed a few days in order “talk her into it”. But one evening, on my free day, on which I could devote myself entirely to taking care of her, I got her to the point, where she did not have any more excuses and I could show her my room.
Unfortunately I did not have my stamp collection to show her, but she too knew what I wanted. I got it, and Renate too was happy I believe, with what I had to offer. I had already felt a spark with her earlier but now even she was convinced that I was not the one, she had believed to have known. I had convinced her that I was not windbag. From that day she came regularly to me. After my evening we sat together at the beach and enjoyed the moon that reflected in the water. Or we saw the shooting stars, which fell in plenty from the sky.
Being in love under such a starry sky and looking at the falling comets, what else could one wish for? Except that it remained forever like that!
But Renate’s holiday time was over after fourteen days!
But Sharm el-Sheikh's or even my charm was so great that it resulted in her girlfriend flying back alone to Germany. Renate extended her holidays and moved with me into my modest Hilton room.
Now we had fourteen days more without the girlfriend in the proximity to disturb us. Renate wanted to know just whom exactly she had got involved with.
Now we also had the whole night to tell one another stories. Of course she got to hear only the not-so-explosive episodes from my past. She would get to know soon enough with whom she was saddled with.
I talked to her about my daughters, my mother and also the messed up mother of my daughters. But I kept a lot to myself. If it was going to be a longer-lasting commitment, I still had enough time for confession.
Renate also talked to me about her relatives and parents. And also about her home city of Munich and the surrounding area.
Quite proudly I told her that I had worked as a bouncer in the “Ship”, which was also called “Atlantis". Now it was Renate, who surprised me and asked me if I had had a colleague named Harry and if I had owned a black Mercedes 190 with red-upholstered seats and if I had something to do with the wardrobe woman.
Since I had to answer all the questions in the affirmative, she said that she was sad or even surprised that I was the guy that had almost raped her at that time!
I defended myself and told the truth that I had stopped harassing her after I had noticed how young she was.
I had never started anything with her nor would I have.
This was fair enough for Renate. She knew that I hadn’t done anything to her. But she surprised me with a confession: At that time she had imagined being with me together. She had also imagined that we had sex together.
They were simply the wishful thinking of a teenager! And now, after such a long time, we were together a
gain and she did not have to dream. She had sex with me.
As I have experienced often, life had some surprises ready. We were both excited when we found out how long we already knew each other. While calculating, we realized that she had been 16 years old at that time and that 16 years had passed in the meantime.
Renate was 32 years young. There was a difference of 16 years between Renate and me. Thus we noticed that the number 16 could perhaps be a lucky number for us. But even these two weeks, which the most wonderful for me since a long time, ended. And Renate had to return to her hospital in Munich, where she worked.
The farewell was very difficult for both of us. But Renate claimed that it was possible that she would return to me quickly. I hate any goodbyes. While saying goodbyes, I have always had the feeling that something died. But a goodbye can also be a pleasant anticipation! You need only a little bit of optimism, a lot of time and patience. Then it will go smoothly even with the joy of seeing again. It is like how the footballers say: After the game is before the game! And I thought so positively now with regard to Renate’s return.
I was aware that my move to Cairo was impending.
Suddenly I didn't have any ambition to go to Cairo anymore. But there was no going back because I had signed the contract for the hotel with Hannes, the rat. And Hannes had signed this contract in return from the hotel and brought it back from Cairo.
I still had my jeep. But I was planning to sell it in Cairo, since I didn't need a jeep in this crazy city. Not only I was sad, even my kitchen brigade as well as my friends and my current director and friend were. I didn't have much to pack, but nevertheless two suitcases and some card-board boxes were brought to the loading area of my open jeep. And finally it was already after midnight; I made a tour once again through the kitchen and was still giving advice and promising them that I would come and visit them on my free days.
There was a 15-kg fire extinguisher hanging, which was not very stable any more on one of the pillars supporting the high ceiling and which was located in the middle of the kitchen. I had already reported on this many times to the workshop team. Now, I pointed this out once again to my representative and rattled at the fire extinguisher. This broke out of its loose fixture and landed on my head. I saw stars and fell on the floor.
A crowd gathered in the kitchen and I was accompanied by almost the whole kitchen crew to our hotel doctor. Once I got there, I received an injection. I never came to know for what or against what I got this injection. But I saw the head bandage, which had been put on, in the mirror. Any Indian would have been proud of such a turban.
I also had to get a haircut since the doctor had to somehow fix sutures and clips. I was advised not to travel to Cairo that night. But I had promised and I was scheduled to be in the new hotel the next day. How would it look like if I came late on my first day or didn’t come at all!
So I wore a baseball cap on the turban, took the lunch box prepared for me, packed some beer in the small refrigerated container and swung behind the wheel of my jeep. Honking loudly, I drove from the courtyard into the night.
It was already after 2 o'clock in the morning and I had to cover a solid distance of 500 km. There was a buzzing sensation in my skull in higher pitches than my 6-cylinder Chrysler engine. Not only did I feel ill, I was ill!
Often I had to stop and throw up.
But the headwind won over my fatigue and pain, which was hammering in my head. Soon my balance was restored and the new day already dawned, which made it easier to drive. After half a chicken from my lunch-box and two beers, I felt really good.
I also put a couple of the pills, which the doctor had wrapped and given me, into my mouth and flushed it down with a hearty gulp of beer. I progressed very slowly, because I often had to take a break. The hustle and bustle on the highway from Suez to Cairo was too much and I was sleepy.
So I drove a bit further into the desert under an acacia and tried to sleep a little, which I also succeeded in.
I was shaken awake by two strong men's hands, which belonged to a policeman. He had been told that there was an injured foreigner and that perhaps he was already dead.
A truck driver had seen my jeep from the road as he drove to his uploading point in Suez and while driving back, he noticed the jeep was still there. So he thought that something was wrong and he informed the police.
And now they were friend and helper even in Egypt, on the spot, to clarify the situation.
I must have looked funny with my turban on.
So I arrived at my new job only in the afternoon. I parked the jeep in front of the hotel. It was marked “Reserved for guests".
That was okay, because I was still a guest. In the huge lobby with the pleasant coolness, which was not due to the air conditioning system alone, but also due to the amount of marble, with which it was fitted out, I looked for the person, whom I could approach. I didn't have a choice because a very attentive lady came up to me and asked me what I wished.
I explained to her that I was the new chef.
She looked at me almost with shock and said I should first go to the bathroom and look at myself in the mirror and when I had tidied myself, I should come to her once again. Then she would help me to find the Director.
I should have thought of looking at myself in the mirror before coming to the hotel, because the woman I spoke to, horrified me, although I should know myself.
What I saw in the mirror was anything but a reassuring sight. My once-white gauze bandage turban was soaked with blood, on which there was a sticky gray layer of dust from the Sinai.
My once-white baseball cap was just a gray head protection matted with blood. I needed nearly a half hour in the bathroom, till I had tidied myself to make myself presentable as a person.
I could not avoid going through the lobby once again to get my toiletries from the suitcase. This was very embarrassing for me. Finally I was able to report myself once again to the nice lady. She took me to the director's office to regulate the formalities.
First, I was to get a room, so that I could move around the hotel at any time and make my inquiries. The next day I would be make myself familiar with my staff. I got acquainted with a direct supervisor, the F&B Manager, all the hotel managers of course from housekeeping, the purchasing manager up to the engineering department, and everything in between. It took a long time till I got the names of the head waiters and all the service personnel into my skull. Oh yes, I have to say something about my skull: The shaved hair grew again and after the sutures and clamps were removed, it looked good once again!
The "Sapphire Hotels" and the war in Kuwait
I was allotted a kitchen office and four sous-chef, as well as another more 80 employees. It was a business with 24-hours kitchen operation.
First I had to now find out who the dishwasher, cook or kitchen helpers were.
Basically I had my four sous-chefs, who were my direct contact persons. I gave them the orders and they knew what to do. So the staff that was right next to or in my office were reduced. My work consisted of completely other things, apart from just cooking. Since I was thrown into the cold water, I soon realized that I did not have a good job.
On the second day I already got a long list of what had to be done at all costs, from my director and also the F&B Manager (Business Director). In the first place it was stated that I had to write a defect report to the engineer and explain to him that the defects and repairs had to be corrected immediately. Indeed there were major repairs to be done.
But the man certainly knew already that there no new things that had to be repaired. I was told to also make complaints to the storekeeper immediately, thus also to the buyers that certain things were not in stock. My F&B offered that his secretary would write these things for me.
I was so naive and followed the requirements on the list and steamed things up. Of course I wanted to show how I was a man of rigorous actions. Only I did not know that I was being bullied from day one. But there were particularly
not so nice letters from the individual departments that I should first bring my kitchen in order before I attacked other departments. What I did not know was the fact that they did not want me.
The chef prior to me was a local man and I had the suspicion that I had taken his job. Moreover, he had been a good mosque-visitor and had been understanding, if his cooks were away from duty up to four hours, to go to the mosque. But I allowed them only one hour, not more. So my kitchen staff were already against me.
And now these letters that I had passed out.
In the meantime, I had an apartment across the street from the hotel and moved in there.
The only ray of light was that Renate arrived. She came once again to determine whether we would compatible with one another. It was just the right time to clean the dirty dwelling that my predecessor had left behind. Although the cleaning staff of the hotel were available and according to their report, everything had been cleaned, the place was just a pigsty! Renate, who was used to the cleanliness in the hospital, and was responsible for disinfection of surgical instruments, found it repulsive and started to clean the tiles in the kitchen and the bathroom with a razor blade.
I was all day in the kitchen and had trouble with my Muslim brothers. But I had to go through it and show them who was stronger.
Every day there was some nonsense.
Once there was too much salt, then too little salt in the soup or vegetables or rice. The boys wore me out. Once I told one of them to add some salt to the broth. What came out was not edible any more. The response I got was that I had not told him how much salt he was to add!
Another time, the guests had glass fragments in the rice in a chafing dish at the buffet. Ironically, the lady from the German development aid office, who was also responsible for the order, was the “lucky” person to get the glass splinter on her plate. The G.T.Z (Society for Technical Cooperation), who were regular customers, were then considering to change the hotel.
My Dream to Be Free Page 47