Amen.

Yo

Yo.

Return

When I left the country on April 27 it seemed that snow was still a constant threat. The trees where still uncertain of Spring. I've come back to incredible colors of green, full blooming trees and a complete sense that summer is here.

I've been gone for a long time.

It is good to be home. Still, I can feel the post-trip blues coming on.

The Road To Dahab

The backdrop in which this story unfolds needs to be understood in order for you to fully comprehend how I found myself believing I had been kidnapped by the Taliban.

Ever since arriving in Egypt on Sunday evening I was a target. As a westerner and furthermore a single westerner I was hard to miss and I imagine hard to pass up for anyone who had any interest at all in taking advantage of someone unfamiliar with the seemingly backward way Egyptians go about doing things.

The entire week I was in Egypt I had been the target of shady dealings and outright cons. By the end of my trip I was on edge and extremely suspicious of everyone. All of which came to a crescendo at the end of my trip in Alexandria when my camera had been stolen by a guy I had spent the evening with.

And so on the last leg of my travels in Egypt I was wanting to relax but didn't find it at all easy to do so. I was at the Taba border, the crossing point between Israel and Egypt. I had just endured the 7 hour bus ride from Cairo and was weary of travel. I had one last leg of my journey to go, the 2 hour ride from Taba to Dahab which was my final beach front destination in the Sinai Desert on the coast of the Red Sea.

And so after having found a taxi that was willing to drive such a distance for a reasonable price, or so I thought (another story), I sat back in my seat for the long and I hoped relaxing drive along the Red Sea coast line.

All was well for about thirty to fourty minutes. While the cab driver drove a bit fast on the winding road I had long since become accustom to the wild insanity that is Egyptian driving.

After about half an hour a white unmarked van flew past the taxi, pulled in front of us and slammed on its brakes forcing us to slow down. The van pulled over as did my taxi driver leading me to believe that this was to be expected although entirely confusing to me. It was fruitless to inquire too extensively into the matter as the driver spoke very little English.

Immediately two men jumped out of the car, decked out in burkas and head coverings. This in and of itself wasn't all that unusual in the Middle East though it was uncommon for taxi drivers to be wearing them. It was also strange that there were two men in the car as this was also uncommon for drivers. One man came up to the driver side window clasped hands and greeted the taxi driver with the customary kiss on the cheek between close friends. They obviously knew each other. The other man went to the back and grabbed my backpack. The taxi cab driver turned to me and stated in broken English, "you switch cars."

I'm taken aback at this point as this had not been customary behavior at all for taxi drivers even on long rides. I'm sure my voice carried an edge and wary quality as the taxi cab driver responded to my inquisition with another broken statement, "it's ok, he's my brother."

You may know the feeling, a sense of sinking downward. Sinking into a situation that you have absolutely no control over. A situation that has no certain outcome but one that seems to be defined by an overwhelming sense that whatever it is it can't possibly be good. I walked from my taxi to this van, weighing my options. You may also be familiar with the feeling of uncertainty over being suspended either over a deadly cliff or what amounts to nothing worth being afraid of. I could have demanded that the taxi driver take me the whole way or take me back at that point but I was caught in a feeling that, despite my uneasy sense, I was being overly dramatic. I was aware that the previous weeks events were probably weighing on my mind.

After having boarded the van the driver threw the vehicle into gear and sped down the highway. As I continued to weigh my situation I noticed the Koran nudged up against the windshield on the dash. Not a big deal you might think, after all I was in the Middle East. While they may have been present, I had yet to note the presence of the Koran in any Taxi I had ridden in thus far. Arabic music was blasting out of the speakers from the front of the cabin where the driver sat throwing periodic glances at me from the rear view mirror. I remained uneasy about the situation until the van suddenly pulled off the main road and started heading up a mountain pass away from the coast at which point I went from feeling uneasy to feeling outright alarm about my circumstances. While I hadn't been to Dahab before and thus didn't know the way, I did know it was on the coast...not in the mountains.

The man riding shotgun turned to me for the first time and asked me, "where are you from?" in a heavy accent. Stupidly I replied, "America." He gave me a knowing nod and said something to his counterpart in Arabic. "Stupid" I said to myself. I should have said anything but that. While accents may be easy to pick up for anyone who speaks English as a first language, I could have easily said anything I wanted and they probably would have believed me.

This all may come across as an over reaction but its difficult to paint an accurate picture of how the week had seemed to culminate to that day. At that point in my journey to Egypt I think I was more on guard than I have ever been in my life.

Soon the horrific imagery of the home videos of the executions committed by various terrorist groups started flicking through my head. Again, while this may seem extreme it made perfect sense to me in the moment.

It was at this point that I decided to start taking proactive steps to ensure I had the best chance of survival. I realized that, if I needed to jump out of the van side door I wouldn't get far as I was wearing flip flops. My pack was only one seat back and at the top of my pack were my shoes. Ever so slowly I reached over the back seat, undid the strap and pulled out my shoes. I carefully slipped off my flip flops and replaced them with my shoes as slowly as possible as to not attract attention from the drivers.

After about five minutes I was ready to book it across the Sinai desert had my drivers proved to be malevolent. I then started visually examining the windows as the thought occured to me that they very well could have engaged the child safety mechanism on the sliding door preventing anyone from opening it from the inside. It would be tight but I knew if I had to, I could squirm out of the window. The landing would be rough however.

We had driven for about 40 minutes before we finally passed a sign that said "Dahab - 40 Kilometers." Despite the positive sign I remained on edge until I saw Dahab for myself and in due time the front door of my hostel.

This all may seem strange to you but I grew increasingly edgy as my time in Egypt wore on. I've seen amazing things in Egypt. Probably some of the oldest and most mysterious things I've ever seen. I've really enjoyed my time here. But I think I would have enjoyed it more if I had someone watching my six.

Around The World

I'm sitting in a coffee shop in Cairo, Egypt and the 80s classic "If You Don't Know Me By Now" just came on.

This is so weird...

Planned Obsolesence At It's Finest

What is it with these light bulbs man!

Ads

Oooh. Looks like I could sell some ad space to google on my blog and become filthy rich with all of my readership.

Shall I sell my soul?

Another Quote...

Come on, you know you like um. This is yet another one taken from "The Life Of Pi". If you can't tell, I do like this book...though some have told me that it was a bit slow for them at least in the middle.

This one really makes sense to me right now...

"The worst pair of opposites is boredom and terror. Sometimes your life is a pendulum swinging from one to the other."