by Snoe, Eboni
‘ ‘Good morning, ladies, ” a voice called from the other side of the truck. George Mercer erected himself from where he had been stooping beside the vehicle. Smiling, as he dusted off his hands, he asked if everyone was ready.
"I guess you two ladies can sit up front between Na’im and myself, if it’s all right with you. Kareem can ride in the back.”
Kareem’s small nose wrinkled in disgust at the thought of having his new attire covered by dust from the sandy roads.
Felicia looked at George with amusement. “Mr. Mercer, when did you decide to grace us with your presence on this trip?”
“Actually, Felicia, I thought about how awful it was that with three men on the team, the one female team member had to ride all the way to A1 Karaj ah to search for and load supplies onto the truck, Felicia, you know that I’m a gentleman, so I knew you wouldn’t mind my tagging along. I talked to Na’im here, and I made a deal with him. I told him that if he wanted to. I’d take the truck, making it easier on all of us. So here I am.”
“And you’re telling me that the Egyptian circus had nothing to do with your wanting to go?”
“Well now that you mention it, I thought it would be an interesting experience. Yes, I did.”
Felicia looked at George’s sparkling blue eyes. ‘ ‘Well, George, since you put it that way...sure I’m glad to have you come with us.”
Felicia and Fatimah talked incessantly throughout the trip, trading ideas for the school. George also contributed some things he thought would be helpful, and Felicia noticed how his eyes became more tender each time he addressed Fatimah.
But it was Na’im who astounded her. He was more relaxed than she’d ever seen him. Cracking jokes about how Fatimah would look as a teacher, he created an even more jovial atmosphere.
They passed many people with carts and camels on their way. Na’im said it was because of the circus. It was a time when everyone could forget about the heavy woes of daily life and get lost in its magic.
It didn’t take Felicia and George long to complete their shopping, once they arrived in A1 Kharijah. Fatimah’s search for school supplies was more tedious and consumed more time. It was only an hour before the circus began when they finally finished.
Felicia could hear the exotic music before they came upon the big top, made of tawny canvas. They shuffled along among the crowds of people, all seeming to be headed for the circus.
Activity picked up as they neared the center of excitement. Vendors peddled their wares in boisterous voices. Women wearing bras and gauzed rags tied low on their hips beckoned to them with serpent-like arms and fluid hands. Painted eyes in soft dark faces surrounded them, giving a preview of things to come.
Na’im bought a bag of toffee for Kareem, who sucked on it noisily, taking it in and out of his mouth until his hands were sticky.
As they walked, they gazed upward at large drawings of performers displaying their talents, which were mounted on tall wooden stakes. Sabir Hamid Rammah (Sab-ear Hom-eed Ram-muh), ‘ ‘The Rubber Man,’ able to bend his body so effortlessly, it appeared to be boneless; ‘ ‘The Brave Amin” (Ah-meen),Master of the Trapeze; Sutannah (Soo- tan-nuh), “Mistress of the Serpents,” all looked down upon them as they entered the circus grounds.
Na’im handed the attendant a fifty pound note to pay their way in. She was a toothless crone, who wasn’t the least bit embarrassed to show her decrepit dental condition. Grinning all the while, she greeted the steady flow of patrons.
Strategically placed torches could be seen through the large tent. Because it was still daylight, they had not been lit, but sat ready for the time when they would become necessary. Pennants of gold, green and red were visible at the end of the rows of wooden chairs, dividing them into sections.
Na’im had secured four seats only three rows from the
front. They squeezed by countless knees before they were comfortably seated in the best section of the house.
Kareem’s small dark eyes could not contain their excitement as he turned this way and that, watching the scores of people. There were children and adults. Some carried babies, others gooey treats dripping almonds and cream. All the while, Kareem’s bow-like mouth continued its suction on the toffee.
Felicia too was amazed as she watched the sea of people. “Does the circus come here often?” she asked Na’im, who was seated beside her, noting the huge crowd that had turned out for the event.
“From time to time. But this is only a small group of performers from the Egyptian National Circus, which has a permanent site at Giza. Historically, circuses were held to honor anniversaries such as the birth of the Prophet or other religious holy men.”
Lively music began, and clowns dressed like dancing girls with enormous swiveling hips entered the center ring. Explosions of laughter filled the air as they danced to a tone played by dwarfs on toy flutes. The tune reminded Felicia of the cat in the old Mighty Mouse cartoon being enticed along in midair by some hypnotic fragrance, his body as limp as a rag as he floated along to an exotic beat.
Robust figures collided together as they imitated the classic belly dancers of old. All of them prostrated themselves in the end, with huge, touching rumps forming a circle. Felicia laughed until tears ran down her cheeks at the ‘ ‘dancers’ ’ whose faces could barely touch the floor in reverence because of gigantic breasts.
A young camel proved itself to definitely be a beast with a burden as it brought in the clowns’ object of worship. She rode on what Felicia concluded to be a large sled.
Elephantine legs and thighs were crossed in her best semblance possible of queen of the Nile. Rolls and rolls of flesh jiggled with the motion of the sled, as she was drawn to the center of the ring.
Ooos and aahs emanated from the crowd as this gargantuan Cleopatra rose onto her elbow. She threw her head backwards and opened her blood red lips for the grapes being fed to her by one of the clowns. Fanning the clowns away, amazingly tiny hands flipped a massive black cloud of hair away from her face, which had been made up in the most extravagant fashion.
Once again the dwarf musicians resumed their tune, and to a dumbfounded audience, this “beauty of Egypt” commenced a dance where each limb performed solo. Like instruments in an orchestra, each mound of flesh contributed its part to the awesome performance. George’s mouth remained in a perpetual “O” until the lusty beauty had been removed from the ring.
Now the entertainment took on a more serious tone. The Master of Ceremonies welcomed everyone with expressive gestures, bowing over and over again, the semiprecious stones surrounding his headpiece glittering in the light. Felicia and Na’im’s heads touched as he generally interpreted the ringmaster’s words.
There was a constant flow of animals in and out of the ring, with beautiful women and ravishing men. The excitement mounted after the introduction of the contortionist, Sabir Hamid Rammah. The crowd watched in hushed silence as he bent and twisted his body into positions that one would not have believed possible for a human being. At the climax of his eye-popping act, Rammah, a frill grown man of normal proportions, folded his body up to fit in a box no bigger than a large suitcase.
When he emerged from his small cage, thundering applause rained down upon him.
Felicia, in her excitement, rose to her feet in a standing ovation. Then Na’im joined her, and Fatimah, George and Kareem. Soon the entire audience was on its feet shouting their praises to the great ‘ ‘rubber man’ ’.
‘ ‘I can’t believe it,’ ’ Felicia exclaimed. ‘ ‘How was he able to do that?”
‘ ‘It is the power of the mind, aros al bher. But it is also the ability of the mind to tap into the power of the universe, making them one. The physical is no longer the dominating factor. It is a slave to the mind’s commands. Rammah is the perfect example of this.”
Sutannah, Mistress of the Serpents, was next. She was a beautiful woman with copper-colored skin. A golden band, highlighted in the front by an intricately colored cobra, adorned her f
orehead. Jewelry decorated her lower and upper arms, neck and the waistline of her sheer skirt that hung low on her hips.
As she entered the ring, petite cymbals that were attached to her fingers created an enticing tempo. Similar cymbals with small tassels were perched on the tips of her full breasts.
Throughout her undulating exhibition, a tall reed basket remained balanced on the top of her head and four others were brought in by a slender man dressed in the traditional galabia.
George, who sat on the opposite side of Fatimah, called down to Na’im. “Ooh, I know I’m not in Canada now. The closest thing I’ve seen to anything shaped like her, was a poster picture of a girl in Hawaii. I don’t think I could take it if one of those center cymbals should happen to fall off.”
‘ ‘If you think this is something. I’ll have to take you to a place called Ya Noor El Ein, meaning Light of my Eyes. There you will see the cream of the crop, all trained in the vanishing art of belly dance.”
“I’m going to hold you to that.”
“My word is my bo—”
Felicia’s sharp elbow made contact with Na’im’s rib before he could finish.
‘ ‘If these women are so irresistible, why don’t you have one of them staying in the west wing at Karib,” she complained in a voice that only Na’im’s ears could hear.
“With these, should I say ‘ladies’, there is no need to bring them home. One can sample their assets without all that, and might I say, for a reasonable sum.” One naturally- arched eyebrow lifted with a hint of mischief, and Na’im chuckled under his breath at Felicia’s disconcerted expression.
By now, Sutannah had placed her woven container on the floor in front of her and removed its top. A cobra with its colorful hood expanded wavered back and forth inside.
Sutannah had removed the cymbals from her delicately curved fingers, which seemed to enthrall the reptile. Moments afterwards, her entire body appeared to be a hypnotic instrument, as she bent over and curled herself around the “king”, who continued his movements, seemingly to the rhythm of the accompanying music.
Next the enchantress was up on her feet, enticingly making her way to each of the reed baskets that had been placed around the ring by the flutist. She flipped back each lid with a flick of her foot or the flounce of a feather-like hand.
Once all of the containers had been uncovered, Sutannah began a personal dance, a serenade for each of
the king cobras that had emerged, hoods expanded, from their lairs. Each performance culminated with the reptile allowing her to coil its hooded body about one of her limbs, lastly her waist.
Once again, George felt provoked to speak his feelings about the remarkable performance.
“I’ve got to say what I heard a bunch of the boys say back in the States-she’s too much woman for me. And they weren’t even looking at anything like this. This lets me know I just need a simple girl to meet my needs.’ ’ He glanced at Fatimah, who blushed, but kept her eyes focused on the center ring.
Several acts followed Sutannah. “The Brave Amin” was infallible on the trapeze, followed by tightrope walkers and animal acts.
By now, the torches were burning brightly under the big top, illuminating the satisfied expressions of just about everyone in attendance. The ringmaster was basking in the admiration of the crowd as he announced “Bakkar (Bah- kar) of the Blades”.
The mesmerized audience watched as Bakkar swallowed torches aflame with fire and maneuvered swords of various lengths down his slender throat. Faster and faster, to music similar to “The Sword Dance,” his beautiful assistants passed his swords. Then Bakkar demonstrated his unique ability to actually swallow blades, regurgitating them back up at will.
This brought forth booming applause from the astonished audience who begged for more. Bakkar mounted a small podium near the front of the ring, spoke briefly and began to look around in the audience. Felicia didn’t understand a word Bakkar had said. Just as she turned to Na’im for an interpretation, he rose to his feet.
‘ ‘What’s going on?” a bewildered Felicia asked as she tugged at Na’im’s pants.
“Bakkar asked for a volunteer from the audience for his next act. Nobody seems to want to do it. So I’m volunteering.”
Felicia’s face was struck with confusion. ‘ ‘Volunteering to do what?”
“I’m not sure yet. But I guess I’ll find out in a few minutes.”
Applause rang out again as Bakkar acknowledged Na’im, who was making his way toward the center ring.
Felicia watched as Na’im was greeted by one of Bakkar’s female assistants, who led him over to a large board held steady by wooden braces. Next, his arms and legs were tied spread-eagle to the makeshift dartboard, and a blindfold was placed over his eyes. His golden brown chest gleamed under the torch lights, as it heaved evenly with every breath. His glossy brown hair was slightly pulled back from his face because of the blindfold, giving him the appearance of a Native American.
Everything was happening so fast that Felicia didn’t quite know what she was feeling, until one of the women placed a blindfold over Bakkar’s eyes. Then Felicia knew. Cold fear gripped her, as she watched Na’im standing blind and helpless. Before she knew it, Felicia had reached out and grabbed Fatimah’s hand.
Bakkar began to swallow two short blades at a time, each time bringing them back up with such force, they became projectiles that landed at various points near Na’im’s taut frame.
Felicia covered her mouth, willing herself not to scream as she watched the exasperating ordeal.
At long last, Bakkar projected the last blade, which
landed at the top of Na’im’s head. Snatching off his blindfold while his assistants removed everything that restrained Na’im, Bakkar walked toward him and raised his arm high as the crowd shouted and clapped their approval.
It was a smiling Na’im with sparkling eyes who seated himself next to Felicia, who felt as if the wind had been knocked out of her. What was he so pleased about? Didn’t the fool know he’d just put his life on the line for some stupid circus act?
Kareem was the first to voice his opinion. ‘ ‘Na’im, you are so brave. I want to be like you when I grow up,” he announced in his best boyish voice.
Na’im rumpled Kareem’s hair as he looked at Felicia, who had not looked his way.
“That was quite brave of you, my cousin, but I do not know if it was wise. In your father’s absence, you are the head of Karib and should not risk your life without real cause.”
“Fatimah, that is only the female side of you talking. You know that all of our lives are governed by a source higher than ourselves. I will die when my work is completed. Not before.”
Silently, the group found their way out of the tent. Felicia could not find her voice to say anything. It had only taken that short period of time, seeing Na’im at the mercy of Bakkar’s sightless blades, to make her reali2ehow much she loved him.
They made their way into the darkened streets of A1 Kharijah. Na’im could feel Felicia’s unrest, so he chose
not to taunt her. He wasn’t sure why she was so quiet. As a matter of fact, she was quieter than he had ever seen her, except for the first silent days of their acquaintance. Maybe she felt he had shown off by volunteering. No matter what he had first thought about Felicia, he now knew in her heart she was a true humanitarian; one who very much valued the gift of life, and who was actively seeking ways to help prolong it.
George and Fatimah were the first to reach the rambling ba2aar that dominated the section of town through which they now walked. Even at nighttime, the booths teemed with activity.
The bazaar at night was much more alluring to Felicia. Numerous candles lit rows of booths, adding a mysterious quality to the scene. She reflected on all of the lives that had touched hers since she had come to Egypt. Najid and his family, Aisha, Shabazz, Na’im.... She didn’t know if she’d ever truly understand these people born in the place that many considered the cradle of civilization.
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Haunting voices drifted from the colorful booth to their right. Three men were playing an oboe and two string instruments that Felicia did not recognize. In front of them, a man and a woman sang a sort of ballad. Their dress was different from what she’d seen since her stay in Egypt.
The man wore clothes similar to the nobility in the movie, “Jason and the Argonauts.” The woman’s clothing was of a lower class, simplistic but with the grace only ancient Egypt could bestow. The man’s voice and motions portrayed feelings of remorse and longing for this woman who was obviously below his class. She, in turn, would reply in a voice reeking with sorrow, pain and disappointment. The sounds the duo brought forth were so sad.
‘ ‘He sings of his love for her. But because of his station
he cannot her. He can only take her into his household as a servant, never to be given the respect due the position of a wife,” Na’im’s voice spoke near Felicia’s ear.
“But she is a woman of pride,”Fatimah added. “Even though she loves him, she says she would rather die than live so close to him, knowing they can never really belong to each other. She could belong to him like a cow or camel. But never as two people who love each other.”
“It is so sad that we as human beings have complicated life so much,” Felicia reflected. I don’t believe that love should be treated as a business deal, but as the highest human emotion that we should function from.”
Na’im’s face clouded at the solemnity of Felicia’s words. He was glad that the cover of night kept the entire group from seeing how Felicia’s every mood had a definite effect on him. He no longer knew if he had been truthful with himself about his feelings for her. He’d told himself he was attracted to her because of her beauty and a sincerity he found rare in most women; especially if they had a career that allowed them the leverage that Felicia’s allowed her.
He hadn’t thought twice about putting her in a room so close to his, and making his estate available to her research party in order to keep her close. But how long would that last? Another four to five weeks? Then what?