|Within walking distance of our hotel were the Great Pyramids. |
One of the few stoplights I saw is in the foreground, and
was rarely obeyed. The driving there was exhilarating as
a passenger, but not something I would want to attempt myself!
|this boat was inside the pyramid ready|
to be assembled for a ride to the afterlife.
|below this Coptic Christian |
church was where Jesus
hid from Herod with
his parents when he was little.
|my dad is quite red after |
our descent into
the oven-like pyramid.
|inside the beautiful|
|The famous Nile River.|
The village I stayed in, Kafr el Albien, was the best part of my trip. Being surrounded by such wonderful, generous and kind people truly felt like home. Everyone treated me like I was family and I shared tea with so many lovely new friends that I could not begin to name all of them. The village was peaceful. Family was their first priority after God and it was perfect to me. The farm land was vast and the homes were not filled with the distractions that permeate life in America. Quiet, simple living, laughter, cool nights and warm days, children playing, men and women going about their daily chores. It was all exactly what I had hoped it would be and more.
|a game of soccer in the courtyard|
|We visited many people in the|
village. Here is my father with the
police chief and the mayor.
We are at the mayors home.
|a stable for animals.|
|a delicious breakfast. note: the |
women put out some of the
jams I brought over :)
|This group of farmers set out mats for us |
to sit in the fields and when we said we
hadn't had breakfast yet, picked us
potatoes from the field.
|After harvesting alfalfa, a husband & wife|
stopped and greeted us and posed
for some pictures.
|the view from the roof top |
of the home I stayed at.
|the canal along the main road provided|
water for washing and irrigating of the fields
Here a woman quietly does her
laundry and dishes as we walk by.
|the fields were in long strips. Divided|
amongst the families that lived in the
village and allowing for them to grow
what that wanted to grow.
In the mornings, we often rose far earlier than the others in the home we were at, so my father and I would go for strolls around the village. The dusty roads were quiet and when we did come across people they were warm and friendly and immediately offered us a seat, offered tea or something of their own. While there was very little I could communicate other than thank you (sho-kren), the smiles and nodding and laughter seemed to be enough. When we would get back to the house around 10am, there would be a fine breakfast with fresh produce, falafel patties, hard boiled eggs, pita, yogurt, yogurt cheese, tahini and fava beans.
The last day of my visit, lunch, which is served in the early evening was done outside. Called a farmer's lunch, we ate in the fields on mats and blankets. I loved it! They put out a wonderful selection of foods and we watched the sun set as we ate. After dark, we had turkish coffee and tea. My father managed to get in a water fight with some of the men and they chased each other all over the field in an effort to soak one another.
|boys will be boys|
|our last night in Kafr el Albien|